A gradual process
Back in the saddle. Blackjack was a superstar. The smile says it all
After several months away from riding Blackjack—first due to his rehab and then his training with Laura—I felt it was time to tentatively get back in the saddle. I knew the process would be gradual, as I needed to rebuild my confidence. After discussing it with Laura, we agreed on a plan: I would start by riding Blackjack at the end of her schooling sessions, gradually increasing my time in the saddle with the eventual goal of riding him more than she does.
Even though I was the one who asked Laura if I could ride Blackjack, I found myself feeling incredibly anxious on the way to the yard. I began questioning my life choices—why I pursue something that constantly pushes me outside my comfort zone. The thought kept circling in my mind: wouldn’t life be easier if I’d taken up golf or bought a boat? At least then, I could enjoy the activity without the nerves, without feeling scared.
My first lesson was to be on Riley—who, unbeknownst to him, is my confidence-giving pony. That’s not to say I always feel completely at ease riding him, especially when faced with things that challenge me, like navigating steep Welsh hills or rebuilding my confidence to canter when I don’t quite feel secure.
Facing those demons
Blackjack, on the other hand, is still a work in progress when it comes to my confidence—through no fault of his own. I’ve been in the saddle during some of his more dramatic moments: twists and turns during which I have stayed on, and the occasional unplanned dismount where I’ve ended up on the floor. Much of that stemmed from his immaturity; sometimes it only took another horse trotting past for him to throw a few unexpected shapes. But I’ve also witnessed how much he’s grown and how much more he can now handle. The trouble is, even though I know all this rationally, that calm logic often vanishes the moment I’m back onboard.
After enjoying my lesson on Riley, it was time to face the next challenge—riding Blackjack. I watched as Laura rode him, and he was an absolute superstar. Then she asked if I wanted to get on. I said “yes,” but deep down, a part of me wanted to say “no.” Still, I knew I had to start facing those demons. In the first few minutes, I exuded signs of nervousness—I was leaning forward, tense. Laura offered a few simple instructions, and gradually, I began to feel calmer. With each passing minute, my confidence grew. I would be lying if I said I was ever truly relaxed although from the outside I am told that is how I looked.
When Laura suggested a canter, I shot the idea down immediately—I simply didn’t feel ready. In my mind, we were only going to be walking and trotting; I’d already set those limits for myself and wasn’t prepared to push beyond them during this first session with Blackjack. I only rode for about ten minutes, but by the end, I felt an air of happiness and a healthy dose of relief. That short session was a powerful reminder of why I put myself through this: the sense of achievement is immense, and I truly love my two special ponies.