H&C news reporter Charlotte Ricca-Smith gets an attack of pre-season nerves – and wonders if it’s all worth it?
“With the eventing season fast approaching I should be jumping about with glee at the thought of getting out and competing again. Only I’m not.
After a wet winter, doing little more than light hacking with the occasional clinic, I am distinctly lacking in enthusiasm for this whole competing lark. When I think about tackling a course I feel slightly queasy. While nerves can be a good thing, I’m finding it hard to channel that adrenalin (fear?) into positive energy.
I sometimes wonder why I put myself though it. Riding is supposed to be fun, right? So why do I force myself to do things that make me want to crawl back under the duvet or pour another glass of wine. Preferably both…
Example. There was clear round jumping at a local equestrian centre last week. I could have gone. In fact, there was no reason for me not to go. But I didn’t. I do have a new saddle and told myself I should get used to it home before tackling a course. But really? What kind of excuse is that?
I’ve been there several times before and gone clear, every time. In fact, in the few competitive outings we’ve had together (I only took her on last summer) we have been placed every time and only had one pole down. She’s a bold, capable jumper and, in the right frame of mind, I’m a reasonable competent rider.
So what, exactly, am I scared of? Is it fear of failure? Am I anxious about what other people think, or maybe I’m worried about hurting myself? To be honest, I’m not really sure.
I had a fall during a lesson at the end of last year (she stopped, I didn’t), which hasn’t helped. But here’s the thing, since that fall we have jumped on numerous occasion and she hasn’t stopped. Prior to that one mishap we competed, schooled and jumped another 100 fences or more – and she never stopped.
So looking at the odds are definitely in our favour. But when I visualise us I imagine her stopping or chipping in an extra stride and scrambling over.
I am nurturing negative thoughts like a lioness protects her cubs. I know I need to change this thought pattern, but I can’t quite seem to let go. It’s almost as if I dare not imagine success, for fear of failure.
My mum has always been a worrier when watching anyone compete – from me as a 12-year-old bombing around the scurry class to Andy Murray battling his way to the finals at Wimbledon. She is almost relieved when the pole falls, or Murray goes out in the semis. The pressure is off, expectations have gone, and we can go back to the business of being average – or even a failure – and be happy with that. It’s a peculiarly British pastime.
I sometimes wonder if this has rubbed off on me? There is way too much analysis and angst and not enough action. I know I just need to kick on and enjoy it. I also know how great I feel after going cross-country – I’m on a total high and feel like I can achieve anything. And that is exactly why I put myself through all this.
If only I could maintain that positivity, that sunny outlook and that swagger before and during the competition. Just remembering to breathe is hard enough – surely I can’t be expected to smile as well?
But I will enter Munstead on 25 March (even if just typing those wants makes me want to dash to the toilet) and I will force my reluctant – often aching – bones to get back into the swing of things. I’ve got a showjump training session this weekend and I’ve got a cross-country clinic with Lucinda Green at the end of the month – which really is something to get excited about. I love training sessions and I’m sure that will kick-start my enthusiasm.
I just wish there was some mental training I could do as well – because while my body is able, my mind is far from willing.
I realise that writing this blog gives is giving my negativity centre stage, when I should be ushering it into the wings but I felt the need to share. I’d also love to know if anyone else out there who competes suffers with the same negative thoughts – and if you’ve found a way to break the cycle.
I promise never to mention this again – nothing but bold, bright and beautiful thoughts from here. Well, a girl’s gotta dream…”
Charlotte