One Stride Ahead
Title
One Stride Ahead
Creator
Victoria Mavarez
Date
10/03/2022
Text
Walking into Miami International Riding Club, eyes closed, I can still vividly see her long blonde hair tied in a braid parallel to the ground as she and her horse flew through each course obstacle. I did not know her then, nor do I know her now. All I knew was where I was standing. I never saw her again after that day. Perhaps for the best, as it was their synchronicity, the flow of their bodies that embodied beauty to me in a fairy tale type of way. I was never the girl to want the stories about princesses and knights in shining armor. And yet, I longed to belong to that.
John F. Kennedy said, “The cost of freedom is always high.” For my nineteen-year-old self, the cost was cleaning horse stalls and tack after school every day and from sunrise to sunset on weekends. The tasks were my gatekeeper into that fairy tale world. In the beginning, I would rush out to join my friends, attempting to maintain what I thought was important, only to be scoffed by what my friends stated was my “permanent outdoor smell.” There is a certain smell when you walk into a barn, a pungent, airless kind of smell. A smell of leather, hay, manure, and sweat. A smell I consider home even when I see others place their hands over their mouth and nose as if to ward off an evil. Eyes closed, I purposefully take a deep breath of it and hold it in.
I lived in what my friends call an “ever-tired state.” Yet, I was never tired when I rode, I was never too tired to ensure that each horse had the proper shoes for the weather and conditions. I was just too tired to maintain the pretense that the latest trends mattered to me, my scoffed riding boots worn out in all the right places, and my dirt-filled breaches never went out of style to me. My friends began to see me beyond the uniform of teenage years, and I began to see that my strongest relationships were not between my girlfriends but rather – that between horse and woman. My horse knows all my secrets, my insecurities, and my will, for equestrian is a discipline, a coming together. It means having to make both my horse and my muscles work while looking poised and graceful. However, I know no sight more graceful than the parallelism between horse and rider and the ground. Nor a force stronger than the determination of both to conquer the course. Perhaps, it’s the power and the dexterity all wrapped into one, or perhaps the feeling of fluidity and constant motion as the horse and rider fly through the obstacle in a kind of dance of their own making.
But those are the superficial aspects of what I have learned about cleaning stalls and tack. The real lesson comes from the eye contact just before a ride, when horse and rider connect and each knows, instinctively, what their role is. A beast ten times my size, ten times my weight, ten times more beautiful- allows me to guide its body to any obstacle, feeling each step and each breath it takes underneath me. With eyes closed, I know this beast will do no harm, not to me nor to anyone. It is an indescribable feeling to be as one with such a majestic animal.
That day as I stood by the gate and watched blonde hair fly, I received two things. One would shape my leisure time for the remainder of my high school and college profession, the other was the passion that propelled me to my future career. Where all my work has led me to realize a passion that burns inside of me, hoping one day to become an equine veterinarian. Where I will ultimately be able to put in all my time and effort to heal, train, and grow in the equestrian world. Because without horses, without my rugged boots, without my barn family, I am not myself. Every small aspect that comes from the barn on 134th Ave is what makes it home.
John F. Kennedy said, “The cost of freedom is always high.” For my nineteen-year-old self, the cost was cleaning horse stalls and tack after school every day and from sunrise to sunset on weekends. The tasks were my gatekeeper into that fairy tale world. In the beginning, I would rush out to join my friends, attempting to maintain what I thought was important, only to be scoffed by what my friends stated was my “permanent outdoor smell.” There is a certain smell when you walk into a barn, a pungent, airless kind of smell. A smell of leather, hay, manure, and sweat. A smell I consider home even when I see others place their hands over their mouth and nose as if to ward off an evil. Eyes closed, I purposefully take a deep breath of it and hold it in.
I lived in what my friends call an “ever-tired state.” Yet, I was never tired when I rode, I was never too tired to ensure that each horse had the proper shoes for the weather and conditions. I was just too tired to maintain the pretense that the latest trends mattered to me, my scoffed riding boots worn out in all the right places, and my dirt-filled breaches never went out of style to me. My friends began to see me beyond the uniform of teenage years, and I began to see that my strongest relationships were not between my girlfriends but rather – that between horse and woman. My horse knows all my secrets, my insecurities, and my will, for equestrian is a discipline, a coming together. It means having to make both my horse and my muscles work while looking poised and graceful. However, I know no sight more graceful than the parallelism between horse and rider and the ground. Nor a force stronger than the determination of both to conquer the course. Perhaps, it’s the power and the dexterity all wrapped into one, or perhaps the feeling of fluidity and constant motion as the horse and rider fly through the obstacle in a kind of dance of their own making.
But those are the superficial aspects of what I have learned about cleaning stalls and tack. The real lesson comes from the eye contact just before a ride, when horse and rider connect and each knows, instinctively, what their role is. A beast ten times my size, ten times my weight, ten times more beautiful- allows me to guide its body to any obstacle, feeling each step and each breath it takes underneath me. With eyes closed, I know this beast will do no harm, not to me nor to anyone. It is an indescribable feeling to be as one with such a majestic animal.
That day as I stood by the gate and watched blonde hair fly, I received two things. One would shape my leisure time for the remainder of my high school and college profession, the other was the passion that propelled me to my future career. Where all my work has led me to realize a passion that burns inside of me, hoping one day to become an equine veterinarian. Where I will ultimately be able to put in all my time and effort to heal, train, and grow in the equestrian world. Because without horses, without my rugged boots, without my barn family, I am not myself. Every small aspect that comes from the barn on 134th Ave is what makes it home.
Citation
Victoria Mavarez, “One Stride Ahead,” Everything Speaks To Me , accessed September 18, 2026, https://everythingspeakstome.com/items/show/135.