If, like me, you’re a mere mortal struggling with a sport requiring supernatural skill, grace, and absurdly long legs, this blog is for you. Surely we dressage riders are gluttons for punishment. Why else would we choose a sport where e.v.e.r.y single movement is judged on a scale of 1 to 10; and you’re more likely to get hit by lightning while marrying Elvis than score a 10.
Clearly this is a sport where the gods are amused at our mortal attempts to attain perfection.
Join me on a journey to reconcile my love of dressage with my lack of talent. Mine is a story of doing my best with a rebellious body and a wandering mind. Perhaps you sometimes feel the same.
The constraints of family and work; a body built with design flaws; and limited finances have made pursuing this sport a start again/stop again endeavor for me. If I could borrow an extra lifetime to learn dressage, I might finally graduate to the next level.
How I love dressage — and how it humbles me as I start over and over again.