3 phases, 2 hearts, 1 dream

Horses everywhere. The grounds, chaotic and buzzing with life. We pulled into the show grounds of Millbrook horse trial, 2013. This is the year I was chosen for the ESDCTA Millbrook Horse Trial Youth Team.  Being on a team was what I loved.

The team consisted of Deena, Jorgen,Christy, my sister, Grace, and I. It was pertinent that we all brought our A-game if we wanted to be competitive. The best part about being on a team during competition is supporting one another, and being invested in the team. Riding requires a trust between a horse and rider, that’s true…however sometimes at shows it can be considered an independent sport. Every horse and rider for themselves. I don’t take this approach when I compete, I compete against myself and what my best self can bring to the game. I want all my friends, teammates, and coaches to succeed.  It was all about good horsemanship, and the right attitude when playing the game.

It was Thursday afternoon in Millbrook, New York, and the show began. This would be a long and eventful weekend. Competing until Sunday, we had four exciting days ahead.

My ride times were at 9am Friday, 3:30pm Friday, and 12pm on Saturday. Three phases, three scores, and three courses to remember. Preparation was the key to success at events, and I was prepared. Archoman was fit and ready to perform.

We make it back to the hotel Thursday night, and I fell asleep early knowing my alarm would sound at 5am. Morning came quick, and I was in the warm-up arena getting ready for the dressage phase. I circled the arena and the whistle sounded. Archoman and I completed the test in under three minutes, receiving a score of 33% (which is good), and it was time for my favorite phase…cross country.

3pm and its warm-up time. I ran up the grass fields, galloping Archoman, getting his legs ready for the long course ahead. Approximately two miles long, 21 obstacles, and an extensive set of hills. I knew Archoman and I were ready. We had been training for five consecutive months, and it was SHOW TIME.

We approach the start box, and the counter gave us a one-minute warning. I collect myself as I feel the nerves rushing through my body, and the beating of Archoman’s heart was vibrating my saddle. 5…4…3…2…1 and we were off. We galloped to fence one, and cleared it with room to spare. We jumped ditches, galloped up banks, down banks, over massive logs, through water, through the woods, and nothing phased Archoman. Time was ticking, we had roughly five minutes to get to the finish, and as the buzzer on my watch hit the four-minute mark, I whispered to Archie, “Let’s go.” His legs extended like nothing I had ever felt before. The wind inundated my face, I smiled, catching the bugs in my teeth. At that moment I was free. I was happy. A moment I will never forget. Watching my team compete, and riding through open fields at full speed on the most amazing horse was something I looked forward to during competitions.

I miss competing, and my horse every-day. Writing about it makes me smile. It brings back my favorite memories that I will never forget.

It was a sunny day in Unionville, PA, clear blue skies. It had been a long day; the heat was excruciating. I woke up at 8am to search for the horse of my dreams. The horse that would take me, one-day, to the top level.

The three horses lined up for trial were perfectly shaved, tall, in shape, and quite appealing. However, something didn’t click with them. My mom could see it, but I was memorized by their beauty. I didn’t really think it was necessary to keep looking. My mom insisted we see this last horse. “He had something special about him” she said. When we pulled up into a gravel parking lot, I saw a small dark brown horse.  He was fury, with soft eyes, actually rough looking. He looked at me quick, and turned away. A bit shy I thought to myself. He possessed a quirky nature, I thought he was funny looking if I am being honest.

Trying a horse appears enjoyable. I ride a bunch of horses, and pick the one I like. Sounds fun right? Eh…It’s complicated. Finding the right horse is one of the hardest decisions to make.

Archoman walked into the ring, and his owner, Daniel Clasing, got on to warm him up for me. I watched. He was scrappy, and looked clumsy. Then Daniel asks me to set up a jump.

Daniel picked up the canter, made a circle, approached the fence, and there it was. Archoman could fly, he was remarkable.

He made it look easy. Sailing off the ground jump after jump. Daniel stopped, said, “Want to hop on?” I smiled, didn’t hesitate as I nodded my head. I climbed on. He wasn’t as scrappy once I was in the saddle. He was muscular, strong, and powerful. He moved like a beast; his gaits were smooth. As I cantered around the ring, I felt the wind fly through my hair. A smile covered my face.

My mom was right…he was the one.

He was shipped to us from Maryland a week later, and my top horse was now in my own hands. I immediately wanted to ride him. I got on, my mom and Sinead set up some fences for me to jump around, and there I went flying off. I fell off in the first five minutes of riding my new horse.

But when you fall, you get back up, and you get back on. And that’s exactly what I did. I climbed back on, and took a deep breath. A rough start to our 5-year relationship, but I would never look back.

The road with Archoman would be long one with many twists and turns, however, it would be the best road I had ever taken. I look back, the day I purchased Archoman, and think about the moments in between then and now. My life would have never been the same without my best friend, “Archie.” Life is a tricky thing, expectations and judgements can be deceiving. It brings a horse like Archie into my life, to help me become the person I am today. Life Is about choices and outcomes. Archoman was the best decision I had ever made.

I enter the arena for a one-day clinic with Sinead Halpin. Sinead was a world renowned trainer that I idolized. She competed at the highest level, and was training for the London Olympics. Impressive I thought to myself. In truth, I was nervous to train with her, what was she going to think of me? I guess it was nerve racking because I never rode with a trainer possessing Sinead’s level of accomplishment. She was serious business. Mighty Mouse and I entered the arena.

“Cute little fellow.” Sinead remarked. She seemed friendly, but stern. I hopped on ready to ride, Sinead immediately asked, “What are the rider’s two most important responsibilities?” I froze. I figured there was a lot of important things. She said we would revisit that at the end.

The lesson began, and I definitely received criticism that day. Sinead was not one to filter, she said it how it was, and I liked that. The lesson was ending and Sinead repeated her earlier question. Although my answer didn’t suffice she made me think and continued to explain the two most important things that I will always remember. “Speed and direction. How fast you want the horse to move underneath you, and the path you take are your responsibilities. The rest the horse can manage.” The simplicity in her answer sparked my interest. I never thought of it in that way. I decided after the clinic that I would one day train full time with Sinead. I wanted to call her my coach.

One month later, my mom scheduled a PRIVATE lesson with Sinead at her farm. During our two hour drive I was filled with anticipation. I wanted to impress her, but had to be humble. It was 8pm at night, the air was warm, it was mid-September. The lights in the arena were bright, and Sinead was walking around setting up a jump course. I watched her, and admired how skillfully she set the course. Could I do this one day I thought to myself, would I be a professional rider like Sinead? 

She turned to me, “Hey kid, how’s the pony?” I am 10years old so Sinead calling me “kid” made me feel like we were already buddies.

That night, began the journey with Sinead. She was my coach.

Like everything with horses and life, relationships build, fall apart, grow, and develop. I had multiple trainers before Sinead, and I grew out of their teaching style. I never grew out of Sinead, each time we worked together I improved. To this day she is my trainer. We clicked. She knew how to challenge me, make me sweat, work, and struggle. Riding was never easy, and that’s what made it fun for me.

So I think back to when Sinead said, “Speed and direction.” We can control these two things on a horse, but there is also a lot that is out of our control in riding. Just like in life, we can control where we go and how fast we do it, but there is always a twist involved. How we cope and grow is up to us.

Sinead continues to inspire me and teach me every day. Although I don’t get to see her very often, I look forward to another time in life when it becomes an option to enter an arena with Sinead.

 

He was small, but mighty. Willing in nature, fierce, and powerful. We called him Mighty mouse.

I am now ten years old, and for my tenth birthday Mighty Mouse was added to the barn. He was blond with a reddish tint to him, quite beautiful. He had a wild spirit in him. He was very different from any other horse I had ridden before. He could jump anything and everything; ditches, banks, water, trees. He jumped clear out of the paddock the first week he arrived over a fence four boards high in his blanket! He was fearless, and this made me fearless.

I wake up to go to the barn, its 4am, and its show day. My first ride was at 9am. I hopped in the truck, elated for the beautiful sunny day ahead of me. 2hrs elapsed, and here we were. Welcome to the New Jersey Horse Park the sign said. As I pull in I saw the Olympic trainers scoping the upper level courses. I saw hundreds of horses being tacked, and unloaded from the trailers. The announcer said that rides would begin at 8am, and the feeling of excitement set in. I got to show my new pony for the first time.

The pressure was on, I knew that to be successful I had to ride my courses correct with confidence. Dressage was the first phase; as I circled the arena and completed the pattern, the judge commented on my performance. Mighty mouse performed well, we received a high score, and now it was time for the fun part. Cross country was our next phase. We entered the start-box, and the count-down began. 5 seconds and counting, my nerves were high, and my adrenaline was pumping. The timer beeped and we took off. I was flying. Fence one, clear, and we settled into a rhythm. I heard him breathing hard, but nothing was stopping his pace. He was the most powerful thing I had ever been on before. He was MIGHTY MOUSE.

The announcer took his focus onto us. He yells over the speaker, “Look at this pony go, nothing, not even the fences are backing him off, what a stride.” The fences are coming up quick, I am now on fence 16 and the houses, ditches, and logs are becoming tighter together. I think our pace was quickening, and my heart beat faster. There was love, drive, and a bond that could never be broken between this pony and I. We crossed the finish line, I lied across his neck and hugged him. I loved him. The serenity and peace I felt at that moment was real. I think back to these moments every day, I miss them. These were the times I felt the best, the most complete.

Years of training, competing, and bonding passed. Mickey taught me some of the most important things in life. I learned how to be confident, to trust something so deeply, and that it’s not about the size, it’s about the power within. You can be small, Mighty Mouse was, but his impact was enormous.

It’s 5am and I jump into the big diesel truck. The engine starts and we begin driving, first stop was at a small farm in Philadelphia. 3hours in the car pass, I jump out of the truck, run to the barn, and see a small brown pony in the isle. I smile at him, he smiles back. I vividly remember his soft eyes. I knew that was the moment my heart belonged to this pony. Months of horse shopping passed, and not one pony captured me like that one.

As I stroked his small brown nuzzle, my small hands filled with love. It was time to ride him for the first time, nerves filled my 5-year-old body. The arena was coated with a soft brown sand, and as I stepped up to the mounting block, I took a big gulp. This was the moment I would decide whether he would be the right fit for me. I swung my leg over his tiny back, and landed in the saddle. He was gentle and kind, well I thought. Until I gave him a kick to move forward, and he took off. As I screamed, I began to laugh, something about this didn’t scare me, my adrenaline rushed. He was cheeky, spunky, and deceiving. I loved it. He was going to be a challenge, but I didn’t want easy I wanted to learn how to ride. Becoming partners in crime and our mad love affair began.

We left the barn, and told the owner to take him off the market, he was ours. One week later, we drove back to Philadelphia, and our journey home with Cody began.

We arrived back to the farm, my mom’s three horses looked curiously at the fury little pony. They were fascinated, and almost intimidated by his small stature. Cody walked right into the field, and began running around. I laughed. Time passed, and my relationship grew with Cody. I groomed him daily, played with him, took lessons on him, showed him. We became really good at competitions, and won a handful of events. These were the special instances I will always remember. Cody taught me what it was like to be under pressure, to ride with grit, and to be tough.

One day I woke up, and went to the barn, to find that Cody was being shown to another little girl. My feet now touched the ground, and I was growing out of my favorite pony. I was growing up. The day Cody arrived I remember me and my mom picked out a show name for him, something that suited him very well, but the message taught me something. We called him “It’s all in the attitude.”  Whenever I entered the show ring, the announcer would say, “Sofie Lutfy riding It’s all in the attitude,” the buzzer would sound, and his name reminded me before every round that the attitude was the most important part to be of being a good horse woman. To this day, his name has guided my path with the horses. It was always about the attitude. I learned this at 5 years old, from my first pony.

As you read this blog I think you will understand the deep love I possess for horses. Perhaps you will not relate to my passion for horses, but I hope to give you my inside story of why they are so meaningful in my life. We all have passions and gifts that are unique to us, and my favorite part about blogging is to share with everyone who is reading, my special gift, growing up with horses.

At 5 years old, I began riding, and since that time, horses have made the most significant impact on my character. Being an equestrian represents more than an extracurricular activity; on a horse is where I learned the most about myself. My horses taught me friendship, loyalty, patience, kindness, and humility. It is with my horses that I have shared the best and the worst moments of my life. Often my horses pushed me to the edge and revealed clearly that perfection is not the goal. It is with my horse that I gained the understanding of my strengths and weaknesses. It is with my horse that I have been completely vulnerable.

Competitive horseback riding necessitates trust, compassion, and love for one another. The various feelings and emotions that make up a horse and rider relationship are almost unexplainable. The goal as a rider is to build trust, to form “ease” and “honesty” between one living creature and another. The symbiotic relationship is rooted in survival instinct.

The experience of galloping across fields, full speed over fences that are unmovable, gives me the most incredible feelings. Emerging from the wind, tree after tree, fence after fence, the sudden movement of the horse over every obstacle becomes a game of trust. It is the adrenaline and uncertainty that feeds me in a way I have never experienced elsewhere. When my horse and I are out in the open, we find each other.

When striving to reach the finish line under the five-minute marker, I am prompted to think quantitatively. I know that each turn, direction, and increase speed is a calculated decision that will have results, ideally positive. Yet I also inevitably ponder the very real truth of the risks involved, understanding that for every moment spent on course, there is danger.

The counter says, “5, 4, 3, 2, and 1,” and then says, “Have a nice ride,” My horse processes the words and leaps out of the box, onto fence one. As spectators, friends, and family cheer, their collective noise echoes in our minds, and our focus falls to our breath and the heartbeat of one another.

Archoman, Mighty Mouse, and Cody have been my three horses; they are special, smart, and intuitive. They are my go to when days are challenging.

Now you know the way a horse has made me feel, for my next blogs I will start you from the beginning, how I became involved in the horse life. Where it all began, and stories that many people could relate to. It’s time for the real adventure! Until next time….