When schooling a horse, the rider is responsible for setting the horse up to succeed. Don’t ask him for hard things when he’s tired, confused, or upset. Give him generous warm up and cool down time. End on a positive note. When schooling new moves, accept and praise progress rather than insisting on perfection. Listen to him. Give him physical and mental breaks. Reward a good faith try, correct gently, and be patient.

This is just common sense horsemanship. Pester a tired horse for more than he can give or ignore his signals, and he might object dangerously. Expect progress to come too quickly and you could well end up with not only a lack of progress, but also setbacks. Safety and efficiency aside, a patient, considerate, growth mindset is also just what any healthy long-term relationship needs to thrive.

And that objective–a healthy long-term relationship–is more important than any one movement or sequence of jumps.

As I headed into camp week at the barn this year–I made a royal hash out of camp week at my last barn–I tried to treat myself like a horse. What did I need to be set up for success? Well, the obvious thing–rest–was something I could somewhat control. I stuck to a pretty early bedtime, because reveille was at 5:45 am. I did as many morning chores the night before as possible, and I just gave the whole housework thingie a week-long pass (such a sacrifice!). Writing got a pass too, albeit reluctantly (Lord Julian shakes his handsome head and sighs).

I laid in a good store of lunch-able, snackable protein, because the last thing I needed was hypoglycemia making a long, hot day worse. I brought at least a quart of icy watered down ginger ale with me and drank cold water in addition. Heat stress is cumulative. Ask any experienced horse show manager. If the show is three days long, the third day is when all those bullet-proof athletes keel over.

Several times a day, I made myself do the breathe in fast, breathe out slow routine that brings down blood pressure and kicks in the “rest and digest” parasympathetic nervous system. When another volunteer offered to trade my somewhat antsy horse for her steady-Eddy, I accepted the help. I did not want to be the old lady with the torn rotator cuff because, “No, that’s fine. I can handle it.” I’d been handling it for three days at that point.

I gave myself permission to keep to the side of the room during group activities, to take time outs for five minutes’ peace (nods to Mrs. Large).

So I’m the old lady who for once got strategic about an obstacle course, and managed five pretty demanding days without crying, cursing (out loud), offending my team, or letting down a horse who should have been able to depend on me. I am a little proud of myself, because a year ago, I did not manage a comparable set of challenges well at all, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could, um, get back on the horse.

Have you ever gotten back on the horse? Made yourself go back and get it right, or at least not as wrong the next time? Or have you wisely thrown in the towel when everybody was telling you to try, try again?

PS: Rough draft of the cover for A Gentleman of Very Few Words. Wheee!