Burn Out

After competing in the sport of endurance for more than sixteen years, I eventually reached burnout. Doing training rides every single weekend, month after month, year after year, finally became something I dreaded. I never went to parties, showers, shopping dates, or anything else that happened on a weekend. Nothing was more important than riding my horse.

Besides all of the conditioning miles we rode, every endurance rider copes with a ton of stress. Endurance rides are hard on horses; so many things can go wrong. Besides the obvious things like trailering accidents and pasture mishaps, endurance horses compete right on the knife's edge every time they tackle a 50 or 100-miler. Colics are a concern, but so are torn tendons, strained ligaments, damaged kidneys, popped splints, tying-up, and regular wounds. Crossing the finish line wasn't enough; your horse had to be fit to continue to get a completion, and then there was the drive back home where the strain of travel might induce a colic or a mystery lameness. For most endurance riders, a horse's health is always the priority - even over a completion, but that responsibility is a heavy weight when you are running at speed over long distances. No one takes it lightly.

Eventually, I just got tired of it. Near the end of my endurance days, I started taking dressage lessons. I had fun, my horse didn't get beat up, and no one almost died. When it came time to renew my membership to the American Endurance Ride Conference (AERC), I let the renewal date pass by and instead, I joined the California Dressage Society (CDS).

I started my dressage journey way back in 2010, more than twelve years ago. I am starting to feel that same sense of burn out that I felt while doing conditioning rides. Just like in my endurance days, I spend every single Saturday morning doing a lesson. It has begun to feel like a grind. What makes it worse is that my work-to-reward ratio is way out of whack. I put in a massive amount of work and get no tangible rewards. Nothing that I can look at to prove to myself that the work I am putting in is worth it; that the experiences I miss out on are worth missing. There are plenty of adages that express that lack of balance: all work and no play make Jack a dull boy comes to mind. It's not a good place to be in.

This is a good place to be.

I am looking at solutions. Time off or a change of the view I see between my horse's ears are among the possibilities. When I left the endurance world, it started with a break that turned into forever, but with no regrets. I don't know if I am there yet with dressage, but it's something to consider.

I don't think it will happen this week, but I am leaving myself open to whatever possibilities arise.