The Truth About Competition: Navigating Fair Play in a Controversial World

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Hey friend,

Let’s be real for a minute—competition isn’t always fair.

You can feel it sometimes, that quiet buzz along the rail when someone lays down a run that clearly had a little “help.” The whispers start, the air changes, and suddenly your focus starts to wobble.

That happened to me once—well, more than once if I’m honest. The pen was humming, the drag was fresh, and a rider two slots ahead of me laid down a run that had the whole crowd shifting in their chairs. Someone beside me muttered, “Guess we know how this judge scores.”

And I felt it—the tightening in my chest, the temptation to build a whole case in my head. To spiral. To ride the judge instead of riding my horse.

But right there in that moment, I caught myself.
Two paths opened:

Path one: spiral and shrink.
Path two: come back to my plan—horse first, pattern first, focus on what I could actually steer: line, tempo, timing.

I chose path two. Not because I’m perfect, but because I’ve tried the first one. And trust me—it rides small. Tight. Bitter.

The other rider still got their score. But mine got better—cleaner, calmer, freer.
And that’s what we forget: over time, those little choices add up.

Champions don’t deny reality. They just decide how they’ll ride inside it—with integrity, strategy, and presence.

You’ve seen it too—politics, preferences, chaos at the gate when five riders scratch and suddenly you’re “up next” with half a hot dog still in your mouth. The show pen can be wild. But here’s the truth: most of what frustrates us out there isn’t ours to fix.

The riders who rise know where their focus ends and what’s not their job.

So I remind myself, and my clients, all the time:
Draw a circle. Label it “Not My Job.”

Judge bias? Not my job.
Go order changes? Not my job.
Someone crowding the warm-up pen? Still not my job.

Because the second I start giving that stuff space in my head, it costs me the only thing I can truly control—my focus.

And focus is your most valuable currency.
If it doesn’t change my next decision, it doesn’t deserve my attention.

What you need: a micro-routine. This is exactly what I work with my clients on inside the Mental Gym for Equestrians. We go deep into a personalized Pre-Ride Power Up to get them in the zone every time. No “thinking” required, just execution. 

Here’s the standard I ride by (and I think you should too):
Horse first. Rules first. Clean horsemanship—non-negotiable.

If I can go to bed at night knowing I stayed true to that, I’m good.
I raise the standard, even when it feels like others don’t.
Let the ride be the protest.

That’s leadership in this sport—not louder, just cleaner.

Here’s the part most riders miss: you don’t win by managing the politics—you win by managing your inputs.

Not who you know. Not the bias. Not the draw.
Just your system—your horse, your habits, your head.

That’s your unfair advantage.

Know yourself and your horse so well that you’re never guessing, just choosing. Build your A/B/C versions of a run:

• A: the solid, repeatable ride you can hit any day of the week. No drama, solid 0s and +½s.

• B: the “go for it” version when everything clicks.

• C: the conservative save when the warm-up goes sideways.
  

When everyone else is reacting, you’re choosing. That’s calm under pressure.

And you don’t get calmer by luck—you get calmer by design. We all have a mental operating system running in the background. Most riders just never update theirs.

When the pressure spikes, you don’t “try harder.” You run the program you’ve trained.
That’s focus as a skill, not a feeling.

You also don’t have to play every game on the schedule.
Some shows build you. Some drain you. Pick the ones that pay you back.

If a show kills your joy or your horse’s, it’s a no. Bad footing or bad vibes? It’s a no. No apology needed.

You can say it kindly:
“We’re choosing shows that align with our plan this season—catch you at the next one.”

That’s not drama. That’s discipline.

And here’s something I’ll die on a hill for: when you’re clean, you’re free.

You don’t waste bandwidth spinning stories or defending choices. That clarity shows up in your lines, in your timing, and in your confidence.

So remember this:
Gray areas are where opinions live—style, polish, schooling within the rules. Learn the culture of the pen, but never betray your horsemanship.

Red flags are where you draw the line—welfare issues, rule violations, bad sportsmanship. Handle them with facts, not emotion. Report once, detach, and keep your focus where it belongs.

Because the moment you stop feeding the drama, you start feeding your precision.

There will be days when you know you rode better than you scored. That’s when it stings the most.

When that happens, I give myself 24 hours. No big stories, no big decisions. Then I write three truths:
One about me.
One about my horse.
One about what we’ll do next time.

Momentum is medicine.

Winners don’t litigate the past—they upgrade their next attempt.

I’ve built my whole coaching philosophy around this code:

The Champion’s Code: 

I compete clean even when no one’s watching.
I compete against myself.
I prepare so thoroughly that variance can’t beat me twice.
I control my controllables—and I have many.
I turn setbacks into systems.
I let my riding speak louder than my complaints.

That’s how you stay in love with this sport.

Fair play isn’t naïve—it’s strategic.
Clean competitors sleep better, learn faster, and last longer.

The world won’t always be fair.
No one will love you like your mama.

Ride brave.
Ride clean.
Raise the standard.

🤠
Nicole

P.S. If you’re ready to train your mind like a pro, start here:
👉 5 Days to Confident Competitor — turn nerves into a plan you can trust under pressure.
👉 Mental Gym for Equestrians — upgrade your mental operating system with daily mindset training to hard-wire focus, confidence, and calm.