Mare Crush Monday

Apparently I have a type.



Look another bay mare with white socks!



Droopy lip, derpy ears.

Cute ears.


Great sense of humor.


And extremely tolerant.


Why walk to turnout when the mare will tote you along bareback.

Meet Demelia.  Or DeeDee.


Me and the Dee 

She belongs to some friends at the barn, and lately has been attending our trainers version of fat camp because the girl has got a little too much junk in the trunk.  What does that mean for me?  I get to steal her for ride or two during the weeks her Mommas can’t work her enough.

She’s a 10 year old American Warmblood, sweet as pie, fancy, and puts up with whatever shenanigans I’ve thought up that day.  Also, no, I did not grow, she’s just a bit on the shorter side.  Don’t let her size fool you though, this little lady steps around the children’s hunter ring like a walk in the park.  I’m loving the chance to ride her, and hopefully get to know her more this summer while we both enjoy an increase in our cardio workouts!



All Things Rolex

Obviously the internet has been flooded with pictures, write-ups and articles about all the fabulous things about Rolex.  This year was my 3rd year going, and more than ever I want to go back again. It’s a highly addicting experience.  Why?   Let me list the ways!

  1. You can day drink all day long.
  2. Tailgating is fun.  Tailgating with horse people=even more fun.
  3. Everyone loves the shopping.
  4. If you cut in the women’s restroom line, you will get shut down and kicked to the back.
  5. Dogs are everywhere; this year cute dogs wearing raincoats or jackets were the norm.
  6. You can act like a total child about seeing all these amazing horses, and no one cares because everyone is jumping up and down with you.
  7. Show jumping was sold out, so I parked my butt right by (like against the little fence surrounding it) the warm up ring and it was SO FREAKING COOL.  The pros were just casually strolling around, or talking about their horses, schooling their horses.  It was awesome to watch.  Even the pros stress about remembering the course.
  8. Eventers actually like each other.  WHY DOES THIS CONTINUE TO SURPRISE ME?

Overall, it was a fantastic trip!  We drove right around 10 hours both ways, but it was so worth it.  I did really suck it up at shopping!  I only purchased a t-shirt I think?  I was way to distracted having a tailgate spot, and hiding from the downpour of rain to run back and forth from shopping.  I did manage to find Stephanie from Hand Gallop though, it was awesome to catch up!



Pieces Together & Apart

This post has been one I’ve been toying with posting (this all went down a few weeks ago).  But seeing as it ends mostly happily, I decided to share.  My apologies if some people got part of this post earlier this week, I think I did something crazy on the blog app.

It started out as one of those rides where things all started to fall together for me!  Grover and I warmed up well, with only a few reminders to keep my elbows soft and wrists straight.  I cantered around in the driving rein as a reminder to not give with my hands, but with my arms.

Then we started popping around some small jumps and right off the bat I had a much better feel for the pace, and came in at really nice distances.  Grover was the perfect gentleman, and gave an honest effort for me.

I stretched up, focused on bringing my shoulders back approaching the fence to help maintain the pace, and we ate up the lines.  I actually counted out loud the whole time; to keeps my brain occupied.  As a result we actually had several lovely courses, including one where were schooled the add strides so that Grover couldn’t just blow down the lines.

At the end of the ride I felt like $1,000,000.  I had ridden correctly And in response my horse had been much happier and more correct.   It felt so great to have the pieces all come together!

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Cute boy!

However, I did get off and while picking Grover’s feet out in the aisle he began to act very odd, and very wobbly.  To the point where I yelled at him twice, afraid that he was going to lay down on me.  My trainer saw most of this and immediately came to our aid.  I walked him off, she did some basic testing and while neither of us could find something ‘wrong’ with him, the cherished schoolmaster just seemed off.  Both of us gave him some extra cuddles and tucked him back into his stall for the night.  The vet was out the next day for other reasons, so he’d take a quick peak.

On the road to Rolex I got the text.  The vet had found a heart murmur in Grover, and it was recommended that he be retired immediately.  My trainer is Mr. Grover’s #1 fan and took the vet’s advice.  So as of now, my lesson that night, where he was perfect, was his last ride ever.  He is now going to live the posh life of a cute lawn/stall ornament and be stuffed full of cookies by his fan club.

I won’t lie, his retirement was a huge blow to my movement forward, since we had been talking about half leasing him this summer.  But the bottom line is that no one got hurt, and Grover should live a happy horsey life still.  Just in a different context.

Grover’s namesake






While I am still recovering from all things Rolex, I wanted to take a quick minute to discuss something that has become very important to me recently.  I’ve discovered through my freshest bout of soul searching, that my biggest fear of the moment is that I will no longer be relevant.

To the professional riders of the world, that means they are no longer considered the best; perhaps that they don’t get the media attention, or high profile clients, or attend the biggest shows.  But to an adult amateur, especially one with kid(s), it means something else entirely.

Honestly, I am terrified of not mattering any more.  Without a horse, and without a really important goal driving me I felt that I was shrinking away into irrelevancy.  Irrelevancy at the barn.  Irrelevancy to my trainer.  And worst of all, I felt like the old me was so far gone, and that maybe I didn’t matter as much as I used to.

There is a huge undertaking to actually having a baby.  Physically-just…wow.  But mentally is what has actually taken me longer to get used to.  In so many ways, what I want matters less now.  Her needs are first, and I want it that way.  But losing O and gaining my daughter in a matter of 3 months pulled the rug out from underneath my personal identity.  Suddenly what I define as a rider means someone who pays a trainer to ride.  Not someone chasing a dream on their own horse, with 1000 iPhone pictures and plans and stupid huge amounts of hope.

Now my iPhone is filled with more baby pictures and random snaps of food and beverage choices, than it is horses.  My car is almost clean.  My calf muscles are kind of super whimpy. I don’t have the local vet on speed dial.  I don’t have reasons to buy new tack, or really even more schooling gear.  When you ride once or twice (maybe) a week, that’s not really top priority.  At first, all of these changes, they made my throat close, and a full on panic mode would start.  I can’t tell you how many times I called my mother, or my husband, or friends on my way home from lessons, upset, crying and totally rattled.  I didn’t understand what had happened to Genny circa 2012-2015.  The feeling that I no longer know everything going on at the barn, the feeling that I don’t have any long term goals, and the feeling of having to totally scratch a dream -that is a trip.   I felt irrelevant, that my dreams weren’t important anymore.

Last week I had a moment, and it just felt like a teeny bit of the old me rose to the surface.  I had just spent the long weekend surrounded by all things horse at Rolex, and came home to have an awesome lesson on a sweet-as-pie schoolie.  I rode well, I laughed, I smiled, I pushed myself.  I was high on life when I drove home, and it was then that I realized that maybe right now I do not have a perfect plan in motion, or really even know exactly what’s next for me.  I still love every single second I spend with horses, and in the saddle.  Maybe my definition of a rider has changed a little bit; that’s only proof it can and will change again.  I know who I am when I’m in the saddle, and I know that’s where I belong.  I want to spend my time with horses grateful for the ride, not sad that I don’t have more.  Great things are coming, I’m sure of it…I just suck at being patient.

So for now, I’m going to try out a new identity, instead of trying to resurrect my old one, and see where it leads.  I hope to more dreams, shiny new ponies, fabulous rides and happy memories.

Thanks for reading along.

Genny Macy

Wife, mother, horse crazy lady.




Chrome for Days

While I’m not someone who historically follows horse racing, like any good horse crazy lady, I definitely follow the big ones.

Like for instance.

This one.

California Chrome

A few recent accolades include:

  • No. 1 in this Monday’s release of the NTRA Top Thoroughbred Poll. (He collected 37 of 38 first-place votes cast by a national media panel.)
  • He won a second prep race and the 2016 Dubai World Cup, becoming the all-time leading North American horse in earnings won
  • He won the 2014 Secretariat Vox Populi Award
  • His Kentucky Derby win was awarded theNTRA “Moment of the Year”
  • He won Eclipse Awards for American Champion Three-Year-Old Male Horse and American Horse of the Year.

But my favorite Chrome fact?

He is completely cookie motivated and soft as silk.

I was starstruck.