I recently attended my good friend Lynn Symansky’s wedding in November. I was lying on the beach in St. Croix listening to Hannah Sue Burnett tell a funny story to Jennie Brannigan. Lillian Heard and Ryan Wood had just walked back up to the house and Danny Symansky, Lynn Symansky’s brother, and my husband [Tik Maynard] were swimming in the ocean.
The whole drive I had been chugging Red Bull and giving myself pep talks about developing a thicker skin while anxiously surfing my XM radio. A few weeks earlier I had been having some conversations with peers about our need to cross-country school more often and in more “uncomfortable” situations. It’s pretty easy to set everything up to go according to plan while schooling, and often that is important, but if you’re looking to sharpen your instincts for a championship competition there’s only so much trotting back and forth over a ditch that’s going to help you.
I was in a field in Germany cursing myself for the wrong choice of shoes because the ground was very, very damp when I was introduced to a well known German eventer from times past. The greeting smile had not left her face when in perfect English she said, “I was there at fence 5 in France.”
I froze. She continued, “He was a bit fresh and in my opinion a bit fast.”
I honestly have been trying to write this blog for a few days and it seems every time I try, I have a mixture of emotions that I struggle to put into words. It seems crazy that last week I was in France representing my country at the World Championships. The result—not optimal, and the experience I am still digesting.
I was paired with the five best teammates I could imagine, a phenomenal coach and a horse-of-a-lifetime, seemed a recipe for success. But a comment made by veteran teammate Phillip Dutton stood out in my head at a pre-game chat.
So it’s 2:00, and I’m sitting here looking out at the British countryside, trying to figure out a way to narrow down some of the experiences I’ve had since I last blogged. Somehow, after the whirlwind of the last few months, I find myself one week away from a competition that will decide if I get the opportunity to represent my country in the London 2012 Olympic Games… INTENSE!
“OK, I’m just running inside to take a shower. I’ll be out the door in 15 minutes!” I said to Rebecca Howard around 7:15 on Saturday evening. She and I were going to grab a quick dinner to vent/chat about life.
It had been a wild day for S.H.E. (Sinead Halpin Equestrian), with clients in town, five horses at Rocking Horse Horse Trials and eight others to be managed at home, Meg on crutches after a “conversation” with a jump standard, Baby Sarah trying to cope with stepping up to head girl, and me trying to keep it all running smoothly.
About three months ago, I was walking down the grocery aisle with my über-healthy, vegetarian pentathlete boyfriend when he asked me, “If you knew that eating healthy and working out more would get you closer to an Olympic medal, would you start at least eating your greens?”
People keep asking me what I’m doing for Thanksgiving. I keep asking, “When is Thanksgiving?”
This time of the year is about taking some time out from the event season to be a “real person.” I’ll be honest, I’d rather listen to Foster The People’s new tune than the Mariah Carey Christmas music that every grocery store, Starbucks and gas station parking lot is belting out.
I went to a friend’s house the other night for dinner, and as I walked in, I realized by the way our host was decked out in team gear that we were actually there to watch a football game.
I’ve never quite understood how grown men and women get dressed up in team colors and get so involved to the point of literally a “game” ruining their day, week or even month. They have opinions on the players, the coach, they have notes on the venue and tabs on the weather, and they sometimes even know what’s been going on in the players’ personal lives.
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