Horses and exams

Once again, last night I had a post all ready to publish when the server crashed, and I was unable to load anything. I think I need to find a way to plug my computer in because the wi-fi signal in my room isn't very good.

Anyway, yesterday was an average Thursday until my Faulkner Seminar ended at 5. Yesterday was the day of the equestrian team try-outs. It was also the day of the Writing Competency Exam. Both stress-inducing tests occurred one after the other, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

After class, I rushed across campus to change into my horsie clothing, and rushed back to the dining hall to meet Alesha and her boyfriend, Edwin. More to the point, I rushed to meet Edwin's car. Normally, I will be receiving rides to the barn from campus safety, but I've been informed by several people that if you don't give them an hour leeway, you'll end up wherever you're going an hour late. Yesterday, I couldn't risk that, not with only a half hour to spare between the end of class and the try-outs, so I bummed a ride.

I arrived at the barn in plenty of time, despite my worry when Edwin didn't show up right at 5:15. Everyone else who was trying out was already gathered in the viewing room, all dressed up in their tall boots, breeches, and fancy, five-hundred dollar helmets. I felt a little out of place with my mud-coated paddock boots, well-worn, suede half chaps, and the still slightly milldew-smelling schooling helmet. It didn't bother me, though. I'm used to feeling out of place in the barn.

I was just beginning to recognize the mixture of excitement and nervousness curling in the base of my stomach when Danielle (the Dressage coach) and George (the Scottish coach of the hunt seat team) came in and explained what was going to happen. They were going to treat this just like a show. Each of us would draw a horse out of a hat (or basket in this case) and that would be the horse we rode. Some of the girl's had a decided advantage over me because they had been taking lessons already and knew the horses. I didn't mind. I've been riding lesson horses most of my life. I'm used to not knowing a lot about my horse.

Then it was time to draw. I was in the second group, with five other girls and one of the last to choose. I walked up to where Kristin (known as Bob for a reason I'm fairly certain I already explained) and Sarah, last year's co-captain of the Dressage team were prepared to assign me whatever horse I chose. Quickly, I reached into the basket, shuffled through the long strips of paper, drawing out the first I could get my fingers on. It was still folded, which boded well. The horses that had already been chosen to ride before me wouldn't be folded. I'd have a fresh horse. Sliding the strip out smooth, I read aloud the name: Romulus. Greek! Cool! I passed the paper to Bob and headed back to the viewing window trying to remember if this horse was one of the ones I met. The name was familiar. A big bay came to mind. While the other girls from my group collected around Bob, asking questions about the horses they were to ride, I stood at the window, feeling the nervousness grow a little more. This wasn't bad nervousness, by any means. I didn't feel nausous or light-headed. This was the same feeling I got when I used to show. I was excited! But my hand was shaking, ever so slightly, and I knew that nervousness is not something you want to possess up on a horse. The horse will sense it and react with their own anxiety because they don't know why you're nervous. So, while I waited my turn to show my stuff, I closed my eyes and concentrated on calming my pounding heart.

Then it was my turn. I followed the rest of my group out into the arena. Some of the girl's horses were already available, so half our group was on and walking around long before I even  had a horse. My horse, Romulus, is a beauty. A tall bay with little ears. Randi Heathman (I talked to her for a long time when I first visited Albion back in February) helped me get the horse ready, warning me about a couple of the gelding's quirks, but ended by saying that she was so jealous. I had chosen the best horse in the barn.

I mounted, feeling like I could touch the sky. After my little pony back home, this horse felt as big as the  Greek legend behind his name. Naturally, the saddle had to be adjusted to accompany my short legs, but before long I was off, walking, then trotting, then cantering with the other girls. It was a short try-out. I didn't fall off. I didn't break any rules. I looked down at the horse only twice to make sure I was rising and falling in time with the correct front leg of the horse (called a diagonal, for you non-horsie people--or non-English riders, anyway.) Though my dreams last night were plagued with images of my back grotesquely arched during the whole ride, I know I kept my back straight, my core strong. Your back feels like your spine was hit by a hammer if you arch your back while riding. I was nervous, though, and Romulus could feel it. He wouldn't relax while I was riding, and he was drenched in sweat after I got off. It was toasty in the barn, but not that toasty. But Alyssa and Randi and Danielle and Bob all reminded us that this try-out is not based on how the horse looks, it's about how the rider looks (the discipline of equitation), and I've been told by many people that I am a very skilled equitation rider. Now, all I can do is wait and see.

When I got back to the viewing room, it was nearly 6:23. I asked Edwin and Alesha to pick me up at 6:30 because I had this exam at 7, and I wanted to leave plenty of time in case something happened and they could't be there right at 6:30. I shouldn't have worried. Edwin pulled up right when I walked out the door, and I was at the science building, where the test was to be held, at exactly 6:30. With half an hour to kill, I took a moment to breath. I was surprised to find that I really wasn't nervous about this exam. Maybe I had used up all my anxiety for the day at try-outs. Maybe I just have that much faith in my writing. I don't know. But when I sat down in the massive auditorium with my bluebook, pen, and the list of topics we had to choose from, I wasn't really thinking of this as an exam. It was just another college essay, and I had two hours to craft my best possible response. This was nothing like the final exam essays I had to write at Century (my previous college, for those who don't know) because with those the entire exam (vocabulary, short answer, and essay) had to be completed in two hours. Here, I had two hours devoted solely to writing an essay. I will say that I didn't especially like any of the topics. They were all current events, and I don't read the newspaper or pay much attention to what's going on in the world. But I managed to write a reasonable essay about the Islamic cultural center that the Muslim community of Manhatten wants to build two blocks from where the Twin Towers collapsed. Then that was it. I turned in the book and the topics and walked back to my dorm feeling more productive than I had felt in a while. Now I just hope that I pass. I've heard a couple people say that they didn't and had to retake it, but most of them said this not long after talking about how drunk they got last night. Once again, all I can do is wait and see.