On April 21, 2006 I drove to Commonwealth Park in Culpepper for the first time in three years to show my horse. My "once in a lifetime horse" Tally Ho had unexpectedly passed away in July of 2003. I had been competing on a very consistent level, achieving a major goal I had set for myself before this tragedy struck.

Now three years later the "butterflies" were having a field day in my stomach and my heart was pounding. My new horse, Spatz (Splash Art) is relatively green with not a lot of horse show mileage. I was having to "dig deep" to prepare myself. I am a great advocate of sports psychology. I function best in a calm, tranquil state. Over the years I've developed a discipline to achieve that state of mind, but where had it gone? Was I allowing all of the joy and love of riding to be overwhelmed with fear and worry. Was my "inner horse" deserting me?

I think adult/amateur riders offer certain challenges to their trainers. True our trainers don't have to worry about chaperones for us at overnight horse shows or be concerned with our transportation etc. Yet, I know we show up with a lot of "other baggage!" We adults are worried and fearful, particularly after a mishap, and I have often heard that "we intellectualize too much."

Rocky Rochlin, an accomplished rider showing in the a/o division and jumpers, is a sports psychology consultant. She has been a great help to me in the past. I recounted the comment made about how " I intellectualize," as I am always open to taking a good look at my behavior and wanted her analysis. She said, "You go through stages in learning a new skill. You HAVE to tell yourself what to do until it becomes a skill. It is always an evolving process. It's knowing what you NEED to do and having the MENTAL DISCPLINE to do it." She said that everyone needs to learn WHAT they have to do to be on their game.

I know I have to be prepared, unrushed and calm (particularly with this sensitive horse). I usually have set a goal for what I want to accomplish. I have learned techniques to help me do this. However, at this point in my riding career there also is a mental process involved.

The junior rider (if we adults can remember what we were like at that age) still usually "bounces" when they fall. Mom or Dad are usually there to "pick up the pieces." They also usually believe they are "immortal" and don't have to worry about how to pay their vet bill.

My friend and fellow competitor Meg Bailey told me about the day she got bucked off her young horse and was laying on the ground in pain. Her first thought was "Oh no! I'm hurt and I'm the only one at my husband's veterinary practice who can do the payroll. I just can't go to the hospital." But go she did and was informed she had a cracked pelvis!

Quickly we become aware of our responsibilities and the consequences we face if something happens to us. As adults, we may have a business, a family to care for, a child who needs us to be healthy. Or maybe we even have horses to feed and stalls to clean! The process of maturing and taking on more responsibility puts pressure on adult riders.

My friend, Bernie Dracopoli, is an avid dressage rider. Recently over lunch, she recalled the days when we lived in Aspen, Colorado and would be out in the mountains on an all day ride "sans hard hat," without a care in the world (and no one around for miles). I asked her about this "over intellectualization thing" about riding. Like Meg Bailey, she talked about the day she fell off and broke her nose and cracked her tail bone. She too was amazed that she just couldn't shake off the incident. She said that she "had lost her inner horse."

I had been having a very hard time over the years coming to grips with that fact that the sport I love the most has now begun to require a great deal of courage. I too had been losing my "inner horse" and had been putting a lot of energy into retrieving it. For many of us, this is another one of those passages. The juggling act we perform to find time for careers, family and riding often seems quite daunting. We think that we are the only ones struggling with these problems.

Bernie, a fan of Jane Savoie's new book said that her first step to finding her inner horse was just accepting how she felt and "giving herself permission" to just ride out for a walk in the field. Soon the walk was a trot and then the trot was a canter.

My first horse show at Culpepper ended in what was a triumph for me. As Rocky said, I needed to remember that I did know what I need to do to be on my game. I was prepared. I got myself to the calm and relaxed state I needed to focus. My trainer Jonelle Mullen-Stern had done a great job in preparing my horse for me over the last few days. More importantly, she made me feel I could do it! It was a wonderful experience, which I will treasure.

My hope is that when I have one of those days when I can't see a distance to save my life, that I'll remember April 21, 2006 and that my inner horse won't be very far away.