Saturday morning. Early. Walking up the barn aisle, I see Maddie’s head pop out of her stall. She nickers softly as I reach into my pocket and feed her a peppermint, her warm breath on my hands and face. I’m dressed in a collared shirt, jeans, boots and my cowboy hat, and she knows what’s up - it’s time for a show!

I lead my horse out and brush her. Her classy paint coat turns from dull to shiny like a new car. I put on her protective leg gear and load her into the trailer.

Thirty minutes later, we arrive at the show. Dust is flying and there are

horses far and wide. Everyone is excited, especially the horses. Prancing, with excited snorts and whinnies, my horse is set. Saddle up, hop on, we’re ready to go!

Now it’s time to warm up and wait for our turn. Standing at the starting gate with all my friends, I can feel the adrenaline building. Butterflies so strong they practically lift me out of the saddle. It’s okay, we’ll do fine. Horses snort excitedly. It’s finally our turn! One final good luck from a friend and it’s time.

Maddie prances to the gate. We enter and take off like a shot. Head to the first barrel, turn. It’s clean and sharp. Guide her to the second and we’re around. Aim for the third, clean turn, and fly home, wind whipping through our hair. For a second it feels like I’m flying. Then, as though it never happened, the breathtaking feeling ends much too quickly.

I stop. A wide smile lights up my face. Praise comes from all around. Years of practicing, days of frustration, four hours of getting ready, one show a month, and it’s all over in less than 20 seconds.