KICKED FROM COMPLACENCY

KICKED FROM COMPLACENCY

By Tom Gumbrecht

We've all had it drilled into us: "Don't stand behind that horse, don't walk too close to that horse, don't pass so near to that horse, you'll get kicked! We find ourselves repeating the same doctrine to novices and people whose horse sense we are unsure of.

Lola's racing days. Were there things from
her past that she couldn't tell me about?

We also develop a sixth sense about the horses under our care: we get a picture of a horse's emotional condition beginning at dawn when we flip on the barn lights and walk by his stall. Is he calm? Still groggy from sleep and not alert? Concerned? Agitated? Scared? A horse tells us with his ears, eyes, and body just which version of him we will be dealing with that day, and we gauge our interactions with him accordingly. 

But sometimes, complacency can set it. At least I've found that to be true, especially with a horse that we've known for a long time, and formed a close bond with. It might start out as a small transgression, such as crawling halfway under a horse to paint a hoof rather than getting up and walking around to the other side. If anyone else is in attendance, we might throw out a disclaimer, "You should never do what you see me doing right now," as our actions belie our words.

So it was with Lola, the Thoroughbred mare we had acquired two weeks off of the

Lola, the sweetheart of the herd,
still feels her oats.

racetrack where an injury had ended her promising career. During her lengthy rehabilitation and recovery period, we formed a bond and mutual trust that was unbreakable. That trust was hard-won and very real, but I was probably just a little more conscious of my movements around Lola than with our other horses. Any quick hand or arm movement around her or over-zealous use of a manure fork in her stall had the potential of causing her lightening-quick reflexes to send her retreating smartly backwards into the stall wall. There were things in her past, it seemed, that she was unable to tell me about.

We knew a lot of things about each other, and made allowances for them; that's what enabled our relationship to work. I never thought of her as difficult, but she was very sensitive. Lola may not have been 100% trusting of anyone, but from what I observed in nine years caring for, training and riding her, there was no other human that she trusted more. She would give the boss mare, Bella, a very wide berth and back down in any situation that had even the potential of conflict, her strides being very tentative. With me by her side though, she would confidently prance right past her, ears forward, with a purposeful stride. Sometimes I would chuckle to myself that maybe she had a little too much faith in me; Bella could easily take us both out if she ever had the mind to.

Lola's stall, the scene of the crime.
Mine, not hers.

One recent evening after returning home at around 9:00 pm, I headed out to the barn to put the horses in for the night. I switched on the paddock lights, and Lola meandered over and made her way past me and into her still darkened stall, like she always does. As she passed, I noticed something on her underside, maybe a small burr, and instinctively reached out to touch it, forgetting for a moment that I had placed myself beyond the scope of her peripheral vision. My next recollection was of a wrenching pain in my gut, a blinding light as my eyes were looking straight up into the paddock floodlights and a sharp, hard thud that was my head hitting the ground. For the first time in eighteen years around horses, I had taken a kick! I next had a unique view of what a horse looks like when she is jumping, from the point of view of the jump. Lola bolted out of the stall and jumped over me in her hasty exit, being mercifully careful in where she placed her feet. Or lucky. I got myself up and tried to make sense of what had happened. There was blood all over my left hand and as the shock wore off I started to hurt everywhere. It took me a while to get the horses in after the commotion, especially Lola, who had retreated to the far corner of the paddock and needed to be coaxed and reassured that there would be no repercussions to her fear-based reaction. All of her movements were now very jerky and tentative as if she were waiting to be punished. I lingered by her stall door for a long while before turning away from her, and only then did she cautiously approach and put her head out and bury her nose in my chest. It's ok, girl. Your body reacted totally on instinct which is a part of your blood and bones. And I know better. No hard feelings.

After I had made my way up to the house to be checked over by my wife Mary, a nurse

Someday, young Daniel, I'll tell you all  about
your pal Lola, when she was known as
One Precious Gem.

by profession, I went to bed but although I was very tired, sleep would not come. What kept me awake was not the fear of playing out "what if" scenarios, but rather an intense feeling of gratitude. The last few months, I have been exposing my two year old grandson, Daniel, to the wonders of horses, to the delight of all humans and equines concerned. It occurred to me that I had at some point started thinking of our horses as big teddy bears, and perhaps unconsciously transmitting that attitude with the best of intentions but the carelessness of familiarity. I was very grateful that it was me that paid the price for that lapse in judgment, and not Daniel. It was a very small price to pay for an important and timely refresher course. They are not teddy bears. They are horses.

The fact is that I had frightened Lola and she responded the way frightened horses do. Then she laid low for awhile, then allowed me to walk her back to her stall, and when she thought it was safe, came and expressed affection. I am grateful because Lola teaches me how to be: there was an overreaction to stimulus, a retreat to regroup, then a making of amends. I had to wonder, if this had been a human-human interaction, would it have been resolved so quickly and amicably?

GIVING THANKS

GIVING THANKS

By Tom Gumbrecht

Originally published in Horse Directory, Nov-Dec 2015

On Thanksgiving, we pause to give thanks for the things in our lives that we are grateful for. As time goes on, I find myself asking the question, “Am I grateful for the things that I've been given, or have many things been given to me because I'm grateful?” As the years pass, I've begun to think it's more the latter.

Recently, I read a line by Melodie Beattie that sums up what I've come to believe: “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.”

Thankful for a wonderful trainer, friends and family.

Thankful for my tirelessly supportive
wife Mary, and my sweet OTTB
mare, Lola.

Conversely, I believe, a life without gratitude can turn an idyllic setting into a barren wasteland. Join me at the horse show: Without gratitude, everyone who parks their trailer except me is an idiot. Without gratitude, my trainer is always preoccupied with others and I don't get the attention I deserve. Without gratitude, other trainers in the warmup ring are all inconsiderate jerks. Without gratitude, the judge is either blind or politically influenced and I had no chance of winning even before I came into the ring. Without gratitude, everyone who places above us does so only because someone bought them a more expensive horse. Without gratitude, every choice I've made to get to where I am seems like the wrong one, everyone who rides or trains differently is misguided, the show secretary is too slow, the classes start too early or run too late and the coffee from the catering truck sucks.

Without gratitude, it all sucks.

When I'm grateful, my twelve year old truck and trailer is just fine. When I'm grateful, I am amazed that I have a horse that can do what mine does, and does so willingly. When I'm grateful, my trainer is the very best trainer and she just always seems to get me and my horse.  When I'm grateful, there's nothing better than a cup of hot coffee while going over our courses while waiting for our division, I'm ecstatic with the $100 we won in jumpers when the day cost us $400+, and I can't believe that a formerly sedentary sideline

observer of sports such as I, found his niche in equestrian competition.

Thankful to be able to share my
passion with baby Daniel.

I know one thing, above all else, to be true: There is no happiness without gratitude. I've learned a lot since becoming a member of the horse community, and the most important thing I've learned is to say thank you. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT

ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT                                                                                               December 2014

By Tom Gumbrecht

“The longer I live, the more I realize the importance of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is

Trainer Laura Ruben of Affari Horse Farm teaches the author about the
patience needed with a young racehorse, first by watching and
then by doing.

more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than whatever other people think or say or do.

“It is more important than appearance, than giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company, a church, a home. The remarkable thing is that we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day.  We cannot change our past… we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way.  We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. 

“I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you… we are in charge of our attitudes.” – Charles R. Swindall

Powerful words… a quotation that someone my age might put in a frame and hang on the wall of

The author beginning over-fence work with Lola
in 2009. Two years earlier we were thrilled that
she could walk.

a young adult perhaps, but notable in that I was introduced to it by my twenty-something trainer a few years back.  She had adopted it into her life and is a living testimony to its accuracy.

I have had more than one teacher of this concept in my barn; one in particular left the racetrack injured and showed up for our date with destiny at the New Holland auction. Now a permanent resident of our barn, she goes by the name of Lola.  We didn’t know that Lola had an injury because an unscrupulous seller had medicated her, disguising a severe lameness. A day after we got her home she was walking on three legs and a veterinary exam was not encouraging.

Sometimes my initial reaction when faced with a situation I can’t see my way out of is to feel sorry for myself, and this was no exception. I had just gone through treating a severe, multi-year illness with my gelding, Buddy, and I felt that I couldn’t endure that terrifying roller coaster of emotions once again.  Poor me..

After a day or two of trying to figure out how to get myself out of the situation, I soon came to grips with the fact that Lola and I weren’t going to be riding off into the sunset in pursuit of eventing ribbons anytime soon. No, we now had another injured horse to try and mend.  Once focused and armed with a rehabilitation plan from the vet, we began the daily work needed to give Lola a chance. But how would I ever find the time to do this day in and day out? It was still all about me, my bad luck, my disappointment, my frustration. What I needed was a severe attitude adjustment, and Lola gave it to me.

In 2014, the bond formed by Lola's attitude and the author's
attitude adjustment was now unbreakable.

Did you ever have a dog who, after you left her for two minutes to run out to get the mail, greeted you as if you had just scored the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl on your return? I have had a few of those, but had never received such an ovation from a horse until Lola.

In the course of Lola’s rehab, we spent a lot of time together, wrapping, unwrapping, cold hosing, hand walking, laser treatments… and after each time I returned after disappearing from her view for a few moments, she would nicker furiously, loudly and continuously. Then her eyes delivered what her voice had promised.  I have seen many emotions conveyed through the eyes of a horse: contentment, annoyance, intensity, submission. I have seen eyes that were agitated, tired and pleading. Lola’s eyes showed none of that. Her eyes reached out through the stall door and connected my being with hers.  It was the look of acceptance.

This look of total connectedness and the vocal assertions of gratitude every time she laid eyes on me were exactly the attitude adjustment that I needed. It was so simple, and so obvious: I thought that the bad fortune of Lola’s condition was my cross to reluctantly bear, when in fact it was Lola whose life had been turned upside down, who had gone from an athlete to an invalid, who went from having a regimented, organized life to having everyone and everything she knew ripped from under her… and yet she seemed to be the happiest horse alive.

This horse had much to teach me, and it wasn’t about riding or competing… although she was to later educate me in those venues as well.  Lola went from being a disappointment (though it pains

The author's wife Mary with Lola at her first
show, Good Shepherd 2012. It was
a long road to get there, smoothed out
by Lola's fantastic attitude.

me to say that now) to an inspiration, because her attitude was infectious, contagious and an absolute joy to be around.  How did I find the time to do all of the things that needed to be done for Lola?  Someone once said, if you want to see what someone’s priorities are, watch what they spend their time doing.  With her attitude alone, Lola made herself my priority.

I thought I had gotten a bad deal for my $500 at the auction that day. What I got was, I got to be a better horseman, a better student, a better rider and hopefully a better person. If that were to be true, I can only guess that maybe some of Lola’s attitude rubbed off on me while in her stall.

POWER IT FORWARD

Power It Forward                            

Originally published in Horse Directory Magazine ,  November 2014

By Tom Gumbrecht

The years from 2008 to 2011 were challenging ones for the construction industry on Long Island, and our electrical contracting business was no exception. In creating a new specialty division to respond to a changing economy and marketplace, we named the company Thoroughbred Power Systems in honor of our OTTB mare Lola, who, injured and having landed at the New Holland auction, had beaten the odds.  She refused to give up and inspired all of us with her positive attitude and zest for life.

How it works: Lola provides the
inspiration, client donates used generator,
we prep, sell and deliver it, all funds go
to Amaryllis as Ever a Friend and
Christine Distefano look on, unwanted
horses thrive for another day.

When our main business began almost thirty years ago, we had dreams and goals and we thought we could do things a little better. But out of stark necessity, it was mostly about making a living.  In our new little endeavor, we still needed to earn a living but had something else also.. we had a mission.  Our mission was clear: to help unwanted horses; to reach out and provide assistance to the discarded equine athletes, but how to accomplish that mission?

Usually, providing assistance to a cause on an institutional level evokes thoughts of charities, non-profits, rules and regulations, tons of paperwork and asking for money… none of which is my forte.  I’m not a great administrator and am much better with hands-on stuff.  It seemed like the skills available were at odds with the skills needed; then something happened.

Heading to the airport for a training trip to Wisconsin, I blindly grabbed a book off the shelf to read on the plane.  By happy accident the book was “Start Something That Matters” by Blake Mycoskie, the TOMS Shoes guy.  I couldn’t put it down because every point I was struggling with was addressed in his book.  He detailed how fate had conspired to focus his energies and create a for-profit company with a charitable mission which we now know as TOMS which makes shoes and sells them at a profit and donates a pair to a third world country for every pair sold.

DannyBoy oversees preparations
for the sale of a donated generator.

Well, Thoroughbred Power Systems is local, not global.  But the concept that Mycoskie opened our eyes to gave clarity and validation to the concept we had been toying with but had no real model for: having a for-profit company making money doing what we do best and a charitable mission funded by a portion of those profits as opposed to asking people for money.  In the book, I read about some other things that encouraged me:   

     1) “Finding your story”: find what you are passionate about, whatever it is for you that makes work feel like play, where no effort is too great to see it through (luckily, I had found my story)

    2) You don’t have to have a lot of money to have a mission, but the mission should be clear and simple (I qualify on both counts, lol!)

    3) Blake was a horseman (instant credibility!)

By the time I was returning from that trip, my plans had crystallized and my path was more clear.  I knew I was on the right track, and hopefully the details would unfold through a process of trial and error. Our idea was to set aside a fixed amount for each standby generator system sold, and use it to help Long Island horses in need. The funds would have to be administered by a trusted third party, because time and space limit our hands-on rescue work to one at a time. I wanted to work with a legitimate non-profit organization who accepted local horses, run by people with a caring heart and a good work ethic. I wanted an organization recognized by charity rating services, one whose accounting was totally transparent and with very low administrative costs.  I wanted a rescue which didn’t rely heavily on foster homes as a long term solution, one who cared for the horses in-house and was proactive about getting them re-homed.  I wanted a rescue that was able to provide sanctuary for those horses that were not adoptable.

A tall order perhaps, but I knew that without these assurances my enthusiasm would not be sustainable, and

Lola makes sure that every new unit sold results
in a donation to her friends at Amaryllis.

I definitely wanted to be in it long-term. I remembered a rescue in the Hamptons called Amaryllis; they were very kind and appreciative when I donated leftover meds after I lost my first horse Buddy.  I got to know founder Christine Distefano, read her blogs and posts and felt I had found a kindred spirit.  I did my homework researching Amaryllis, and our little “caring partnership” was formed.

As our program evolved, the donations from generator sales, while not insignificant, became almost secondary to another program which had not even been anticipated.  There was a significant segment of clients who already had standby generators but who wanted to upgrade them due to age, availability of new technology, or increased power demands.  The question arose as to what to do with an older but serviceable standby generator; installation costs generally preclude reselling a used unit as part of an installed system and the lack of a factory warranty makes it unappealing to most potential buyers.  Private sales can prove troublesome and the sheer weight and size of many units make rigging and transportation costly, effectively negating much of the potential savings gained with a used unit.

It was out of this dilemma that was born the program we dubbed “Power it Forward.” Under this program, the client is given the opportunity to donate the old unit to our 501c3 horse rescue partner, Amaryllis. If they agree, we remove the unit from the client’s premises and bring it to our facility where we check it over, functionally test it and list it for sale locally. We handle the sale and sometimes even the delivery to a market of largely do-it-yourselfers and antique equipment buffs. 100% of the proceeds of the sale go to the rescue and the client who donated the generator gets credit for the donation. As for us.. we get to feel good. We get to love our work, work for what we love, and make a small positive impact on the horse world.. all at the same time.  Interestingly, we thought this program would appeal to mainly horse people, but in reality almost all of our donors have been non-horsey.  Most people are happy to know that an asset that they have outgrown is doing some good for someone else.

Valentine Daisy, an injured racehorse like Lola, with
Rachel Distefano of Amaryllis. Who would have thought that
her life could have been made better by an unwanted generator?
Power It Forward!

Last year, Amaryllis founder Christine Distefano described the program this way: “Disabled horses have no hope in this world. ‘Power It Forward’ aims to change that, one horse at a time. Pioneering the way, Tom has quickly become a light in the dark despair that a horse unable to earn his keep any longer experiences. Helping horses who once helped others is what ‘Power It Forward’ does.”

Well, thanks Christine, but you guys are the ones doing all the work, I happen to have a penchant for moving heavy things, some generous clients willing to work with me on this mission, a good idea or two and a Thoroughbred ex-racehorse named Lola whose attitude toward life inspires us daily to be better humans.

BREAKING FREE

BREAKING FREE:

How a Horse Delivered Me From the Bondage of Self

By Tom Gumbrecht                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Originally published in Horse Directory,  June, 2014

There is a quotation penned on the whiteboard of our barn, or more accurately, a derivation of one written by someone named Lao Tzu that reads. “He who conquers others is strong; he who conquers himself is mighty.” I had read this before, but it took a long time for me to begin to understand it and I’m certain I still don’t, fully. When I began to understand it is when I put it up on the board, because of its importance to my training (and my life) and how my horses helped me to understand it.

The author with DannyBoy at Equus Valley Horse Trials

I first thought that conquering self was about only self-control, about discipline, about will power. For me, the idea developed further into being about the deconstruction of the image of self that I had created. That image existed in my mind and it was a handsome one, but not terribly accurate. It consisted mainly of who I thought I was, or who thought I could have been if not for the endless obstacles placed in my path by others. I worked on maintaining the image, and it could have possibly existed forever if I had never been exposed to a horse.

I was gifted not especially with talent, but with an almost insatiable appetite for learning when it came to my middle-aged introduction to horses.  I had two trainers at the same time (perhaps would not do that again), rode at literally every opportunity and bought and read every book from every horse trainer, rider, clinician, and horsey philosopher I could find. And still, excellence eluded me. What I became was confused.

In other areas of life, I had become a master of the concept of “fake it ‘til you make it.” In some pursuits, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Acquire some concepts, some jargon and some contacts, let that open a few doors, gain some exposure and acceptance and pick up knowledge through osmosis.  Not so with horses, I was to find out. You can’t fake it with a horse (unless, of course, the horse is in on it) and thereby lay the source of my frequent frustration.  I can present the best façade imaginable, one that may work wonders with some humans and yet the horse would see right past them. The horse, I was to find, responds only to the true self, the true me.  My hope for anything modestly resembling success on horseback required that I first acknowledge, accept, and become familiar with my true self.

I had to turn my gaze inward. Much of what I had yet to learn did not exist in books and found that I didn’t

The author with DannyBoy, leaning to let
go and let the horse do his job.

need to study and master the intellectual concepts of my lessons.  Rather I needed feel them in my fingertips, my calves, my heel, my seat.  My legs would remember what my brain could not comprehend.  It was a new way to learn, and at times frightening.  I had sought to master the horse, and now the horse was my teacher.  My ego, which I assumed had bolstered the little bit of professional recognition I had managed to acquire, was no longer an attribute.  In fact it was a liability, because the horse did not acknowledge or respond to it. The horse knew the real me, and was waiting for me to honestly present it. Perhaps that was the frightening part..

A point came where I found myself struggling with lessons from a teacher who challenged me as no other had. This teacher was a mare who had known nothing but the racetrack and the paddock in my backyard; I began to think that I would never have the level of expertise needed to be successful riding her. But expertise was not what she wanted. She wanted honesty. As she became more fit, I became more overwhelmed and fearful, and rode defensively.  The toughest thing was to admit that, but admitting it was the key.  My trainer had created an environment where it was safe to be 100% honest, and I felt no need to hide my fear. Once I did, we restructured and went back to the point where we had been successful and built from there yet again. Soon we were past the point at which we were once stuck, because someone was able to help me interpret what my horse needed of me.

This I know:  the process of knowing myself has been an incredible adventure, made possible by the many horses I have had the privilege of working with. They have all been my teachers; yet as valuable as it has been to have learned to know myself, I have been especially fortunate to have experienced glimpses of the next dimension:  overcoming myself.

It would not be honest to claim consistency in this concept, but I have tasted it and my appetite to pursue it has been whetted: to enter an arena and for a moment in time, totally and completely give myself over to my horse, to leave my ego at the gate, to trust completely. I have experienced that level of synergy if for a moment, and it has shown me what it is possible to achieve by a magnificent animal’s uncanny ability to remove me from the self which at a point only selves to inhibit and not propel.

Lola- learning partnership from a beautiful soul..

What lofty goals will I achieve, having learned these concepts? Well… the concepts are still for me somewhat elusive but in a way I may have already achieved my goals. I have learned that there are bigger things than the self, and the biggest rewards in life as in riding, come when the self is in the background rather than the foreground.  This is not a remarkable concept for many; it was for me, and it took a horse to teach it in a way that I could accept it.

ESCAPE FROM WINTER

Escape from Winter                                                                 

Originally published in Horse Directory, May, 2014

By Tom Gumbrecht

It felt like something of a shock to the system: that first ride of the season after an unusually

The snow seemed endless and was our sole focus
for weeks on end

severe and repressively long winter, mercifully interrupted by a teasing, late spring.

It had been many months since I had climbed into the saddle, many months of non-stop mucking of stalls, chopping ice from feet, endless plowing and shoveling of snow, and thawing pipes that were electrically heated but froze anyway.  Chipping away at sheets of ice so that the cart could get the manure to the dumpster and the manure truck could take it away. Digging out gates, multiple blanket changes, pulling icicles from manes and huge electric bills to get water in front of the horses and keep it from freezing.

Now, I am one of those people who can honestly say that I have never minded walking down to the barn to take care of my horses, but I will admit that I came close this winter.  Not that I wanted to skip caring for them, but fighting a fever and chills, bracing each step against the wind while shielding my face from cutting shards of ice and blowing snow, feeling the thousand knives of crystallized breath inside my nostrils …. I did think, once or twice, “Can someone please come and do this for me, just tonight?”

Then the barn door opens and the air is filled with welcoming nickers and the comforting relative warmth of the hay-fueled, hooved, barn heating system.  The horses know that it’s cold, but they

A few moments recalling the racetrack on the longeline
make for a more productive first ride

place no value judgment on it.  It’s not horribly cold; it’s just cold.

The first few warmer days are a cruel tease; a little thawing of the arena footing followed by more snow and freezing temperatures.  But one afternoon the arena looks perfect, the sweatshirt comes off, the shirtsleeves get rolled up, and…. It is time.  I still second-guess myself after a winter’s hiatus from riding.  Can I still do it? Can my recently senior-citizen qualified body still take it?  I really only wonder about such things when I’m not actually on my horse; when idle periods let thoughts of “what if?” permeate my generally positive resolve.   

Fifteen minutes on a longeline dull Lola’s memories of the racetrack and I am awestruck once again at the poetry of a Thoroughbred horse in motion.  Then a boot finds an iron, a leg swings over a horse and everything finds its familiar place. Reins fall perfectly into place between gloved fingers.  Boots fall into irons at the right depth and angle, all by themselves.  I feel tall, physically and spiritually.  We walk the freshly groomed arena and get comfortable with all of the sensations again.  The rhythm of the rising trot takes hold, her ears go forward and the partnership has been renewed for another season.  I wasn’t going to canter but we both silently agreed to alter that plan. A slight leg pressure behind the girth and we take wing.  I love where I am, and I love who I am here with.  I love who I am when I am one with my horse. 

The  girls enjoy a long awaited spring day.

Spring is a time of renewal and I am again renewed.  More accurately, perhaps, I am born anew.  Why is this so?  Perhaps, as expressed in the words of horsewoman/ writer Pam Brown,

“A horse is the projection of peoples’ dreams about themselves – strong, powerful, beautiful – and has the capability of lending escape from our mundane existence.”

This winter, we existed.  This spring, we soar…

BACK ON TRACK

BACK ON TRACK                         
Originally published in Horse Directory                                                      April, 2014

By Tom Gumbrecht

Lola allowed the author to hitch his
cart to her star..

The tedium of the blue funk that befell us and called itself the winter of 2014 was interrupted for a day last month when a crew of young filmmakers from Savannah took over our barn for a few hours, turning the frozen tundra of paddocks into a backdrop for a small segment of an independent film about ex-racehorses. They had come to see my Lola, and learn about her story.

After several hours of shooting in sub-freezing temperatures, we adjourned to a local restaurant with the crew to thaw out and share a meal and some insight into the background of director Kara Colvin, her hopes for the film, and the challenges she has faced in creating the feature length documentary called Back On Track that has become her mission.

Tom Gumbrecht: Where do you live now, and have you always lived there?

Kara Colvin: I currently live in Savannah, GA but I grew up in Tallahassee, FL.

TG: How long have you been interested in horses? When did you get your first horse?

KC: For as long as I can remember, I have always loved horses. They are the most incredible animals to me. I always watched Black Beauty and The Black Stallion, I drew horses at every chance I could get and, of course, my room was filled to the capacity with Breyer horses and stuffed animal horses. I was just one of those little girls who was struck with the horse-addict bug and it has been a part of me ever since.

On my 13^th birthday my parents bought me my first and only horse: Jake, an off the track thoroughbred.

TG: How did you get interested in OTTBs? Can you tell me something special about your OTTB?

KC: My first real trainer always had OTTBs at her barn. That’s how I met Jake. I began riding on all sorts...of horses when I first started off. You know, those ancient fat quarter horses that will maybe take two steps if you use every inch of your being to make them move. I really didn’t mind, it made my education as a rider very diverse. I rode all sorts of horses: Tennessee walkers, Arabians, warmbloods, a dinky fat pony named Ashes, but I truly loved the thoroughbreds. I loved the power and grace they had, also their never-ending courage and will to please.

Jake is the smartest horse I have ever met. In all my years and experience with a variety of breeds, I have never met a horse as intelligent as him. Because of this, he has always been a challenge and the perfect horse to learn and grow with. He also loves salty snacks!

Director Kara Colvin, Dir. of Photography Colt Morton,
the author and Lola.
Photo by assistant Jasmine Hughes.

TG: Where do you go to school, and how did you choose film making as a potential career?

KC: I go to Savannah College of Art and Design. I graduated in 2013 with a 4.0 GPA and a BFA in Film & Television with a minor in Cinema Studies. I am now completing my Cinema Studies masters in a fast-paced yearlong program at SCAD and plan to graduate in summer 2014…

…Film was not my immediate interest at SCAD. I started off in painting, then illustration, interior design, and then production design for a moment and then to film. I’m very happy with my end decision and I wouldn’t trade what I’m doing now for anything in the world. Cinema had always been a portion of my life; I just had not accepted that it was the perfect outlet for my creative and ambitious aspirations.

TG: How did you decide to do a documentary about OTTBs? One you decided, what was your first step?

KC: Well, SCAD is not focused on documentaries. They are definitely a narrative-based school. There is one required documentary class. I was always interested in directing but I think that since the school was filled with “prodigies” in directing, I was certainly intimidated to make an effort towards my aspirations. I was very shy when I arrived at SCAD and stuck with production design.

I wanted to do something about retired racehorses but I wasn’t sure what I could accomplish…. Back on Track was born and the class fully supported my idea. I created the short over the span of a year and a half….  then started thinking about making Back on Track into a feature after the short was accepted and won the Silver Award at National Geographic’s Grey’s Reef Film Festival.

When creating the short the first step was contacting everyone I knew from my past that I rode with/knew about OTTBs, research and creating a story/script….. ..I also took on a new level of confidence, courage and determination that I needed to accomplish growing as a director. The first steps were not easy, but necessary for the position I am at now.

TG: What has been your biggest challenge in shooting Back On Track? What was your biggest disappointment? What about the process has been most rewarding?

KC: ….. There is not a part of Back on Track that is not challenging or a learning experience.

DannyBoy, not to be upstaged, tries to charm director
Kara Colvin

This is a large feature-length film that incorporates countless organizations/professionals from FL, VA, PA, MD, DC, CA, NY, SC, NC, KY and OH. It is difficult, and not many people realize how much time, money, effort and determination it takes to create this project. I have to thank my crew endlessly for their dedication and energy they put forth towards the project. They are not being paid; it is exhausting to be on a set for 12 plus hour days with minimal breaks and intense labor. They do it because they love the film and the message we are sending out. I could not do this without them.

Biggest disappointment: Well, there have been a lot. Like with any set, things don’t always go to plan –documentaries in particular. You can’t always plan for what will happen. One of my biggest disappointments was when we were not able to make a trip to see a 2-day show that we were looking forward to. Issues came up and I could not plan a trip around some of the complications. We were disappointed but the biggest setback was the negativity and insults we received from that group for not making the journey.

The most rewarding part: Is having the opportunity to create this film! I have never seen so much passion and love before. Everyone that I have met has such devotion towards thoroughbreds. The people who dedicate their lives to OTTBs deserve a chance to be recognized. It has been truly amazing and a humbling experience.

I also was fortunate enough to have the chance to create Albie. Albie is one of the stories from our trips. It revolves around a woman, Lori, who has had multiple brain surgeries and an off the track thoroughbred, Albie. Together they have helped heal each other’s emotional, mental and physical ailments and create an unbreakable bond.

TG: What is something that would surprise the average person about what goes into making a documentary? What is the most important quality for the director of a documentary to possess?

KC: It is a lot of work, stressful, very expensive and life-consuming but completely worth it. Documentary filmmaking is art, entertainment and information all in the form of a picture. There is a lot of responsibility that comes with being a documentary filmmaker. It is your choice to create an accurate story and/or depiction of your subject matter.

As a young director, I still have an endless education and learning experiences ahead of me that will probably sculpt this answer better than what I am about to say now. I believe the most important quality for a director of a documentary to possess is passion. You cannot create a work of love without a true passion for the subject matter as well as filmmaking as a whole.

Lori White on Albie, with Suzanne Liscouski
on location at Briar Creek Farm in Virginia.

TG: What is the ultimate result that you would like to see accomplished as result of making this film?

KC: Our goal is to promote aftercare for off the track thoroughbreds once their racing careers are over, promote responsible horse ownership and breeding, secure a unified racing government that has universal regulations for all racing states, support regulations on drugs in racing, showcase off the track thoroughbreds as versatile horses for any and all disciplines after their track days are over and support the organizations who care for off the track thoroughbreds and give them second careers and/or homes.

Thoroughbreds are wonderful, athletic, intelligent, caring, brave, powerful and beautiful creatures. I am dedicating my life to this film in the hopes of creating a difference for them. I owe Jake everything, for his love and support as my best friend and riding partner for half my life. This film was started because of him and every time I get discouraged, I think about him and how much he means to me. All off the track thoroughbreds deserve a second chance and a second life beyond the track. There are so many organizations and professionals who deserve to be recognized for their dedication to the sport and to thoroughbred aftercare.

I support thoroughbreds on and off the track and I hope this film makes a difference in the future of the sport of kings. It is time to get thoroughbred racing and off the track thoroughbreds back on track.

Our day on and off the set of Back On Track left us totally impressed with the

Lola. Original drawing by Casey Brister.

competence, integrity, focus and passion of the young filmmakers who had graced our backyard farm gates. As we parted company, we were left with a feeling of warmth and confidence that the future of Off-Track Thoroughbreds has been gifted with some very talented and concerned advocates.

It is said that people are opinions and horses are the truth. Back On Track, ultimately, is about the horses.

Learn more about Back On Track:
backontrackdocumentary.com

LOVE CONQUERS HATE: Confessions of a Former Horse Racing Hater

LOVE CONQUERS HATE:

CONFESSIONS OF A FORMER HORSE RACING HATER   

by Tom Gumbrecht                                                   

Originally published in Horse Directory, February 2014

Most people who know me, either personally or through my written words might be surprised to hear me referred to as a “hater.” But it’s true. I was a horse-racing hater.

How that came to be was that like most hate, mine developed through a combination of outrage, passion and ignorance.  I might still be in that state if not for a young racetrack groom who I became acquainted with through a series of seemingly random events.

My disenchantment with horse racing began after I purchased my first Off-Track Thoroughbred mare, Lola, from the New Holland auction. I excitedly returned to our Long Island horse farm with great expectations which were crushed the next day when the drugs that masked the symptoms of her injury wore off.

Lola in her racing days

It took almost two years, a lot of work on my part and a lot of patience on Lola’s part, but she did ultimately become sound. During that time, Lola revealed herself to be the sweetest, most honest, thoughtful and grateful horse to ever grace our barn aisle. I love all of our horses, but the bond that developed between Lola and I was special. Although in almost constant discomfort in the early days, she would nicker furiously whenever I stepped into her view, be it hours or seconds from the last time she saw me.  She had issues. She was damaged. She was not a perfect horse, but she had the perfect attitude with which to get well, and to motivate me to get her well. She showed me that a good attitude was much more important than good fortune.

The love that developed morphed into protectiveness when I finally found out her racing identity and documentation of her brief but promising career. My heart sank when I watched the video of Lola’s final race after posting numerous wins and places in just a dozen or so starts. She was pulled up, and limped off the track. My heart sank even further when I realized that it was but two weeks later that she found heself at the New Holland auction and later that evening, at my barn.

The author with Lola in a new life.. for both!

My shock and sadness turned to outrage. How could anyone with a heart beating in their chest discard this willing athlete without so much as an effort to help her? My anger began to seethe and the embers were fanned into flames the next spring when the Fox Hill mare, Eight Belles, was euthanized on the track at Churchill Downs after finishing second to Big Brown in the 2008 Kentucky Derby.  I became a hater that day. I didn’t know how to process my grief and so allowed it to become anger that sought out the bizarre and misguided comfort that comes from hate.

You see, hate allows us to think we are doing something about an issue when we are actually doing nothing. It is social activism for wimps. But hate is not a normal state for me. It was a manifestation of my untreated grief, anger, and outrage stemming from my love of an animal. And to love it had to return. I needed an opportunity to rid myself of this destructive emotion, and life provided one.

Teddy takes a nap with Casey at Monmouth Park

At a point it came to pass that a former stakes winner was saved from a feedlot by an alert racetrack worker, and he landed in the safety of a local horse rescue and sanctuary whose work I had been supporting. Soon after, word spread that a NY racing syndicate who had at one time owned the horse stepped up and made a contribution to his ongoing care at the sanctuary. That horse’s life softened that day, and so did my heart... at least a little bit. I was impressed by the gesture and contacted one of the partners who was fluent in social media, and told him so. An online friendship developed which led to me being linked to many of his racetrack connections, one of whom was a young track groom named Casey Brister.

Casey was, and is, a unique personality.  A comforting beacon of positivity, enthusiasm and wit in any venue, let alone the racing world that I had heretofore viewed with suspicion. Not even twenty years old, she possessed what we older folks most endearingly refer to as an “old soul” referring to poise and wisdom beyond her years. Casey’s life is about horses. In racing season, it means skillfully and thoughtfully seeing to the needs of the horses in her charge, and filling their world with the love of a horse-crazed girl that every horse deserves.

Casey Brister with Teddy at Monmouth Park
Photo by Corinne Cavallo @fotocavllo

I began reading Casey’s ‘day in the life on the backstretch’ blog posts, and so was introduced into her world, the world of horse racing. It turned out that it was a world, perhaps busier, but with the same reverence, compassion and love for these majestic animals as we experience at our own home barn.  She was generous in the sharing of her experiences and so I became educated. Education is the enemy of hate, and this unassuming ambassador for goodness in the racing world, not one-third my age, unknowingly became my teacher. I began to see things through different eyes, the eyes of knowledge rather than the eyes of ignorance.

But racing is seasonal, and when the tack trunks are packed up at the end of the season, Casey unpacks her art supplies and embarks on her other career.  A self- taught artist, she has the innate ability to recreate not only the image of her equine subjects on paper, but captures their soul as well, and gives it back one skillful pencil- or brush stroke at a time. Many are skilled at the mechanics of drawing, and their techniques are appreciated and respected. Once in a while there exists something special, some secret ingredient that asks you to gaze deeply into the liquid eyes of the image and to almost feel their horsey breath on your cheek as you do. That ingredient is love.

This Christmas season, I had the honor of having Casey recreate Lola’s soul for me on paper. I treasure it, not only for its aesthetic beauty, not only for what it is, but for what it represents: the triumph of love over hate.

Casey finds the soul of Lola and puts it on paper..

Truth be told, I still have some issues with racing, but they are not much different from my concerns with the competitive disciplines that I was part of in the horse world: treatment and care during the competitive years, and pensions for ongoing care when their competitive careers are over. I can live much easier with my concerns knowing that there are people like Casey Brister at racetracks all over America.

Visit Casey Brister on facebook: Living In Realism - Artwork by Casey

Visit Corinne Cavallo on facebook: FotoCavallo