The Camelot awards were not born of a sudden invention. The idea came, as many do, quietly like a cat who pads across the room to sit on your lap. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to have our own regional awards instead of just national awards” we said one day as we chatted over the phone. We did a lot of chatting in those days myself, Caroline Broadley, Susanne McCarthy and Linda Moore. We were part of the regional committee and while I expected the committee to be hard work I was pleasantly surprised at how it formed friendships. We did a lot of chatting because Linda, who I didn’t know long, was sick. I first met Linda at a regional meeting that year and her infectious enthusiasm and her friendly approach meant that within a week you felt like you had known her forever. So the awards night, sparked by a throwaway comment one evening grew arms and legs and turned into the Camelot awards you know today.
My anxiety around competition was never really just about competition. It was a fear of the unknown, of lack of control, of new things. It started when I was a small child and if I was anxious about something I would feel sick and nervous. Things like exams, trying new things, bus trips. Over time it got worse and I was anxious before things I was actually looking forward to. The anxiety in turn caused illness as I have a sensitive stomach anyway so it got to the point that I was anxious of being anxious. I missed a lot of things because of it – sleep overs, the first day of pony camp, scouting trips. I was afraid to look forward to anything. My poor mother was tormented by it and had the patience of a saint at times especially when it came to high stress events such as the leaving cert (which I did on three Valium and about seven packs of polo mints a day). I managed miraculously to compete on horses as a teenager and adult. It was hard going – I used to meditate on the way over to try and calm myself down (yeah I was the odd ball), couldn’t eat and would be white as a sheet before a competition and exhausted afterwards.
This series is based on a guide I drew up a few years ago ahead of a clinic I delivered to novice adults and children. There are a wealth of showing experts out there and I will not pretend to know as much nor more than any of them. This guide is not intended for experts, it is intended to give showing novices (and parents!) some sound and basic advice on how to understand what ridden showing is, what the different ridden classes are and what their horses and ponies might be eligible for. I have been showing as an amateur for years and really enjoy it but will admit when I first started, especially when showing Connemaras, I didn’t really know what was right or expected so I needed and sought expert advice. Given how often I hear people asking what is allowed, what type their horse is and how to get started at showing, I believe this document might provide some help to anyone looking to go showing for the first time. I have also tried to include tips and tricks I learned along the way. This chapter looks at the different types of classes and horses. The next chapters to follow will cover class formats, turnout and a guide for grooms.
In 2013 and 2014, Dolly the big chestnut mare and I focused on and achieved many goals in the show ring. We had not achieved what I hoped we could in dressage and given my passion for dressage this always frustrated me. I had performed well on ponies before but Dolly and I always fell somewhere short of the mark in competition. In a class of seven we were usually fifth or sixth in our advanced intermediate grade and with this consistent mediocrity I was afraid I was becoming one of those people who bang on about ‘potential’ for years without ever delivering any actual!
Always pack suncream, shorts, an umbrella and water proofs because if it the weather is not lashing rain and baltic it will be tropical!
Wearing a top hat one size too small for your head in 30 degree heat may not be the best idea… and no the hat will not stretch to fit your head in the heat either!
Trying to tie your own stock always carries the risk of either jabbing the stock pin in your neck or accidentally swallowing it while holding it between your teeth when trying to tie it using the jeep side mirror as a guide.