In Which I Have A Belly Button, Too

(Actually what I have is a belly-button phobia.  Even the title of this post is creeping me out.  I have this deep and secret -- so secret that I am talking about it on the internet! -- dread that maybe my belly-button does not seal completely, and some day my guts will just spill out.  I known that I probably would have heard about it by now if this were actually, y'know, a thing.  But I do not find this knowledge reassuring.)

Anyway.

When I decided that I wanted to try my hand at distance riding, I did what I always do when I get interested in a new thing: research!  And I am a big fan of keeping (and/or lurking in) good company.  I figure that most of what's discussed will go straight over my head, but I believe in learning by osmosis whenever possible.  Since we live in This Internet Age, this immersion-by-proxy included signing up for a couple of mailing lists.

Protip: never do this.  Seriously, you guys, mailing lists are the worst.  I love a good navel-gaze as much as the next guy, right?  (I was a philosophy major; I am all about navel-gazing and tortured rhetoric.)  But man, there is not a whole lot in this world more demoralizing than being a bright-eyed eager would-be student/participant who discovers that the sky is falling on your new favorite activity and you're a major reason why.

(On the bright side, The Cause Of The Downfall inevitably turns out to be both Kids These Days and also Those Horrible People Who Like To Win.  I never knew I had so much in common with people who are actually accomplished in the sports at which I play!)

I remember this phenomenon from time as a horse-racing geek.  It's an old faithful in the dressage/eventing world and crops up in not-overly-modified form on the tracking lists, too.  So when I discovered more of same on the distance lists, I at least knew not to take it too much to heart.

But I did end up thinking about this latest go-round while I rode yesterday.  I spent all Sunday trying to convince myself to go out and do dressage but just was not feeling it -- so made a token gesture in throwing my dressage saddle onto the Tuckmeister and we went out for a hack.

(Turns out English-style cantle bags are not designed for use on a saddle with a point billet in front and concealed V in back!  Made it work well enough to be confident that I will like the bag on my jump saddle, though, and otherwise confirmed that I will be sending the dressage saddle back out on consignment sooner rather than later.  It is a really nice well-made saddle and has served me well, but it's just not what I need/want right now.)

One of the messages that I did happen to read in this particular end-is-nigh discussion stood out in contrast to the rest, which focused (far as I could tell) on trying to entice pleasure trail riders into endurance riding.  The one that caught my eye argued that actually, the next endurance rider was not a current trail rider but rather an eventer who's gotten tired of riding in the ring all the time.

I thought, as I played hooky from my beloved primary sport and specifically from riding in circles (and don't get me wrong; there are days when I love me some riding in circles, and while Grand Prix dressage has yet to spark my interest, my bucket list does include "ride that canter half-pass zig zag thing someday; that looks really cool") that, well.  Guilty as charged.

And I mean, what do I know?  I have ridden one 25-miler and a CTR at that, so I am apparently not riding "real endurance" in about fourteen different ways...and I started to head the next sentence down a rabbit hole of why this whole "not doing real X" doesn't bug me or inspire much disagreement although I am prepared to argue it to death on some other bright-eyed would-be's behalf in my own tortured rhetoric when the sport in question is one in which I am established...but that way, I think, lies madness.  So I deleted those sentences instead.

The point is, that post made me think as I was riding along about a thing that I've seen without ever quite recognizing in all of those discussions I've watched (and participated in...) over the years about the apocalypse of X sport and Y hobby.  The shining plan for salvation always but always involves drawing in the people who are already doing a sport or a hobby that occupies an adjacent letter.  Always!  Let's bring the slot-machine crowd to the racetrack, and maybe people whose dogs do nosework would like to track, and if only we could open their eyes to the light surely all those hunter/jumper riders would rather be eventing, right?

And sometimes it works (says the former backyard hunter rider turned serious-hobbyist eventer).  It works just often and just well enough to look like it might for-real be the way.

Or else maybe not.  That post made me look at it sideways, because yeah, it's tempting to try to woo people who are already sort of doing that thing that you're doing -- people who already know that they can do that thing that you're doing -- people who already have the tools to make for an easy transition if only you can explain to them why they should...

But on the other hand, if somebody already can but doesn't wanna, that is a hard mountain to move.  It is much, much easier to give somebody tools than it is to give them desire.

And it is easier yet to point somebody with desire -- real desire, the kind that will spark against opportunity -- in the right direction to go find the tools for themselves.

On the bright side, most of these obviously doomed sports have been obviously doomed for decades if not centuries now.  So chances are we all of us and all our clans have plenty of time left to keep figuring this out.