Watching a new generation of dressage riders come along, I cannot help but notice that in spite of all our efforts to educate, help out and sponsor our up-and-coming riders, the final results are almost entirely dependent on having a firm base on which to build.

We all know a house without a foundation simply won’t withstand the trials of nature. This image has been used a lot in sermons, but it applies to success in sports, as well as to a healthy, spiritual life. Looking back on my own education, I was lucky to have been firmly in the grip of my cav-alry officer grandfather and a riding school that left no stone unturned to torture the uninitiated.

Of course, I didn’t appreciate the strong discipline back then, especially their obsession with establishing the correct seat and being sure the horse was “on the aids.” We riders weren’t allowed to start jumping before we’d been fully approved through all the longe lessons and had proven our proficiency at all gaits, plus transitions and basic lateral work.

It seemed to take forever before the much-longed-for jumping equipment was brought out and we could get on with life!

After years in Sweden and some on Long Island (N.Y.) competing in eventing and jumping, I met Col. Bengt Ljungquist at the Potomac Horse Center in Maryland. From there on, I was on a solid dressage track, blessed with the most consistent, honest and all-forgiving teacher. But after eight years of guiding us, Bengt died, and little did I realize how much I had taken him for granted.

When we lost Bengt, I thought in my youthful insolence that I could fly it alone, but, really, I was lost in space. Eventually it became obvious to me that the more advanced your horse becomes, the more you need an instructor. Without that “human mirror” to correct or prevent your mistakes, you’ll never get the instant input you need to improve.

Since then, I’ve enjoyed a lot of wonderful assistance from major players and big names, but none could exceed what Bengt and the old cavalry guys put in me when it was so crucial.

Ever since, I’ve been able to build, add, improve and even change a few things, but I’ve never felt as if any of the new information would rip the ground out from under me or cause a meltdown.

So this column is directed mostly to young people who are lucky enough to have a dedi-cated instructor to help them in their riding and to those who are searching for help.

Can you think of any international rider whom you admire who does not have a coach standing by? Of course not, and sometimes that trainer is the same one who started the rider from the very beginning. Even when teachers change, the “first impressions” are likely to be permanent, and you need to find that basis to build upon later.

If you’re not one of the lucky kids whose parents are willing to support you, or don’t have a sponsor paying your way, it means you have to go and find the right situation.

Sometimes that opportunity is right next door at the local riding stable; sometimes it means going far away, perhaps even abroad. No matter how we try to structure the horse industry, there is no education more thorough than the hands-on experience of being a working student. It may take you a couple of tries to find the situation that will work for you, but there is no way to see, learn, live and absorb horses and training as well as in the stable.

There, life is a never-ending scenario of mucking, turning out, grooming and waiting for the veterinarian, and all that can get really old. But as long as you get to ride regularly and you believe someone is taking a genuine interest in your progress, it’s time well spent. While working with the mundane tasks around the barn, I’ll guarantee that you’ll learn something every day, and you won’t even notice it.

You’ll get to know every horse, and you’ll instantly detect when things aren’t right with each one. Every visit from the veterinarian or the farrier will teach
you something new. You’ll find out how to prepare and present horses for sale, how to break a colt and, perhaps, how to manage a breeding
stallion or deliver foals.

In the end, you’ll have seen in practice more than any book can cover, and along with enhancing your own ability to ride, you’ll become a horseman. And that, ultimately, is more valuable than all the glory of the show ring.

There’s nothing wrong with winning, but knowing what goes on behind the scenes will last a lot longer than a fading ribbon.

Sticking with it is the key. Not every day is going to be glorious, or even tolerable; nor is every lesson going to create revelations. Consistency, persistence and a view of the big picture are essential.

Years ago, I spent a couple of days with Lisa Wilcox when judging a show in Hamburg, Germany, at the time when she had just been invited to join the stud farm Gestut Vorwerk. She had already paid her dues, but she was hesitant to take this giant leap. At the time the German Olympic gold medalist Nicole Uphoff was already working for the stud farm, and that was a bit intimidating.

Well, Lisa took on the challenge, and the rest you know. With enough resolve and appreciation for the help offered, and a little bit of luck, you could do the same.

What about talent? It’s been said before, but I’ll say it again: Talent without passion and determination is a complete waste of time.

But even mediocre aptitude can be developed to unimaginable heights with the right combination of student, horse and teacher. I have had all kinds of students, and the most frustrating is not the one who struggles, but the student who has it all and can’t be bothered to put in the work. Talent helps, but it will never bring you to the top.

After you have found your niche, the one that works for you, don’t become impatient. Remember that all good things take time, and that everything you learn is yours to keep.

Stay loyal to yourself and to the people who honestly want to support you. Live with the setbacks, and don’t blame your trainer or your horse for your own shortcomings. And, one day when you reach your star, don’t forget to thank the people who believed in you, who gave you a leg up when you knew nothing.

When I was in my mid-20s, I knew everything. Since then, I’ve come to understand, as the late, great Jimmy Williams is rumored to have said, “It’s what you learn after you know it all that’s important.”