On the surface, Harrisburg’s Junior Weekend (p. 27) is composed of nearly 500 young riders and horses competing for tri-colored ribbons and gold medals at one of the year’s most distinguished shows. It was my first trip to Harrisburg, and I’d been forewarned of the potential monotony of watching 279 riders make their rounds under the lights during the USEF Medal Final, the event’s concluding marathon of equitation. But I found a great meditative quality in those 11 hours. Listlessness never hit. There was an electric ambiance about that weekend that I first encountered Friday evening during the Prix des States Team Championship.

The Pennsylvania State Farm Show Arena was positively buzzing with the spirit, pride and a genuine excitement of junior jumpers from around the United States. The young riders decorated their horses and helmets to declare their team pride, while they garnished the arena with hand-painted banners reading “Go Zone 1!” and “Good Luck Zone 5!” among others. As each competing pair trotted into the lights, their cheering sections lit up in support. Teams represented their members with chosen entrance songs ranging from Van Halen to 50 Cent.

The riders’ nerves fused with an excitement as they rode with passion. They applauded teammates and opponents alike after each go. It was inspiring to watch these young riders participate so whole-heartedly, and it evoked optimistic memories of high school sports, when competition and sportsmanship felt authentic.

My own high school sporting ventures were spent sprinting for the track team. Like competitive riding, I raced individually with a coach to fuel and refine my efforts.

I knew him as Coach Tipton. He never asked more from me than to compete with passion. It was more important to him to see me set a new personal record than to receive a medal. He remained happy as long as his team’s competitors congratulated the winners or won graciously themselves. To those who complained, he posed the question: Why do you compete if you don’t like it?

His simple question bared a weighty concept. If we don’t compete because we love our sports, then why compete at all? There is, of course, the exhilaration of a win accompanied by ribbons, medals, trophies and perhaps money. But I liken those to a photograph; they’ll keep fresh the memory of victory, but objectively they’re only symbolic. They’re merely signifiers of why we really compete; it’s really about the sense of accomplishment, pride and because we love what we do.

For the young riders at Harrisburg, it was about competing to 110 percent of their ability. It was about exemplifying the result of countless hours of training and mental conditioning. It was about taking pride in their horses, their sport and themselves.

Perhaps many of us forget the qualities of true sportsmanship. We forget that pursuing what we’re passionate about can be a most positive and rewarding aspect of life, and we don’t need ribbons or medals to feel that. Perhaps sportsmanship can extend beyond athletics and competition and apply to the rat race of everyday life.

Maybe several hundred teenage riders vying for the spotlight of victory is simply a reflection of life. Many of us compete to “get ahead” in this world, but how many of us actually enjoy the ride? From what I saw, the riders at the Pennsylvania Nation Junior Weekend clearly enjoyed their ride. They were right where they wanted to be, doing what they love to do.

Josh Walker is an intern this fall at The Chronicle of the Horse.