Samara Heinrichs Prak

For the third time in the last few months, I had someone stop me and ask when I was writing another blog. This seems to have turned into a trend, as it's apparently now the only way that I remember to write again. However, it is greatly appreciated to know people read and enjoy this. So, to all those out there that read this, thank you. The irony begins with Stacey, the very one who asked me when I was going to write again. She approached me when she arrived at the barn to ask what was apparently an "awkward" question. Turns out my definition of awkward and hers are two entirely different things. There was a myriad of thoughts running through my head before I found out her request was merely to borrow some riding boots. Boots, which it turns out, I had in her size. Go figure. The borrowed shoe situation has turned into a thing at Creekside this fall. More specifically, only when Alex arrives to teach. Somehow we've developed a pattern that I lend shoes, more often...

In honour of Halloween, I guess it seems only fitting to start my next blog referring to a bunch of lost souls out searching along a yellow brick road. Over the years, I’m sure more than a few children have dressed up as one or two of the characters from The Wizard of Oz. Quite honestly, I think I’ve felt like several of them this fall. Maybe even all at once. If only I had a brain, the scarecrow yearned. If only I had my courage, the lion dreamed. If only I had a heart, the tin man wished. And they set off on that journey together, looking for what they did not have. If you’ve read my previous blog, you’ll know at one point this summer, it may have been mentioned that I didn’t have a brain. Fortunate, as one cannot have a concussion with no brain to concuss. I can sympathize with the scarecrow. A brain is precious and unique to each individual. Please take care of yours; treasure it, train it, feed it, protect it. Most of all, be grateful for the power of thought. Pick up...

If we are brave enough, often enough, we will fall. -Brené Brown There's a quote I'm reminded of often that Brené Brown uses in her book "Daring Greatly": "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs; who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of the high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly...." -Theodore Roosevelt I don't know that I was doing anything particularly brave when I was competing in a 1.00m jumper class ...

Okay, the title is a mouthful, but after I ramble for a bit, I'll attempt to clarify it for you. You could probably source the inspiration of this blog back to a meme that my Personal Assistant insists on sending me regularly when she refers to her riding (to clarify, she rides significantly better than the meme would suggest). At any rate, we have since been using this quote while competing at HITS this winter. However good or bad one's round is, our response upon exiting the ring is this: It has now turned into an even worse version which is, "not bad for two fat guys". That's probably insulting to many people but we do have a sick sense of humour. For the first time in quite a while, I've had opportunity to stand in the hunter warm up ring and listen to trainers. We have started to use other trainers' coaching phrases as our own, as we have found they seem quite useful. We have not, however, figured out what half of them mean. The first week o...

Braving the Wilderness 2017 was an incredible year of firsts. It’s hard to fathom what could possibly come next.  As the 2018 show season descends upon us, all too rapidly, I realize I have high aspirations for the year ahead. Not the kind of aspirations that one would make a list out of. More the sort of dreams that one can only feel in the heart. The ones that are hard to put into words.  As seems to be my theme these days, I finished another book recently. A rather fabulous read by Brené Brown that I’d highly recommend called “Braving the Wilderness”.  It spoke a lot to how I think I’ve always felt, but never managed to verbalize. She starts out with a great quote by Mary Angelou: “You are only free when you realize you belong no place - you belong every place - no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great.” I’ve taken what one could say was an unconventional route to where I am now. I didn’t start out in a horse community. I wasn’t ...