All the ways we won at Regionals 2025

 

Aim RDA's team at Regionals 2025

April showers might bring May flowers, but even a dry and summery April couldn't get in the way of May bringing a first official Regionals outing for Aim RDA.

This time last year, we were a nebulous, proto-group, supporting three own-horse participants riding under the banner of Lambourn RDA, our first host venue. I enjoyed an unusually peaceful day as a steward in the warm up arena, but couldn't help but wonder what next year would look like. A number of our grassroots riders were clear from the very start that they were motivated by competing, and it's something I have also always loved as a coach. If you're looking for a headline: we got it done for 2025, and it has been my favourite regional qualifier to date.

Team Aim had a great day: all of our riders (with the exception of one, Anna, competing hors concours due to existing plans over Nationals weekends) managed to clinch qualifications, and no fewer than ten first place rosettes to show for their efforts. On reflection, though, those victories were among the least poignant successes we got to share - as nice as the scores and rosettes are. The more I've thought about our day last weekend, the more I've realised that we'd won in all sorts of other ways.

Orli's mum getting to watch her ride for only the second time

Firstly, the people really did make the day. Our team was big: I think there must've been more than thirty people in total connected to our group. In that team, there wasn't a single person who didn't want every rider to have fun or be successful. There's definitely a formula for happy volunteer teams which involves every person having a job they can feel good at, and that was in full force: from horse pit crews, to mobile hairdressers, to scooping up inexperienced parents and grandparents. I've got a self-reliant character that was galvanised by an early coaching mentor who thought it was a good thing to do as much as possible for yourself. It's definitely not a bad thing, but I did feel like I'd won the lottery when I found the extra stuff taken care of (with a smile) and could focus totally on coaching.

I also loved seeing the riders' support networks with them at the competition. We don't see all of our riders' families, all the time. For a couple of my riders, it was only the second time their parent on the day had watched them ride, ever - it was exciting to be able to include them all in a special occasion and showcase how much our team could do. It made me smile to see the support networks who don't always get to watch their riders hard at work in their regular lessons taking in everything. 

My own support network was everywhere I turned, but particularly evident in fellow Saturday coach Sue, who called tests for my two VI riders (I was a caller at X so couldn't do both) and was generally one step behind me all day long. Sue is having an amazing year as an Aim RDA coach, and I feel very lucky to work with her every weekend. She has in particular developed a lovely relationship with Dayzie, a blind rider who was picking up her Arts & Crafts prize and soaking up the atmosphere. It probably didn't help that I'd already cried about eight times by this point, but I found it really touching watching Sue ably guide Dayzie around the venue, particularly during a very crowded prizegiving. 

I loved seeing everyone chatting and feeling the buzz around our lorry: at the end of the day, nobody should be more supportive of our cause than riders and their families, and we're here to support all of them. We even got to celebrate a birthday, for my rider August's mum, Sally.  A surprise interlude for cake and fizz only added to the bonhomie of our outing, and I also took great pleasure in coordinating an extra surprise: a car full of balloons for the return journey (we're making it a group tradition). 

August surprising her mum with her birthday cake

Secondly, more "firsts". Red rosettes aside, there were a lot of first times being lived out in real-time. Among our crop of riders, there were different types of "first": first ever dressage test at a first ever competition; first ever (hotly anticipated) external competition; first external competition in six years; first competition in more than twenty; first competition of a new era of RDA (I've told each of my riders' stories in more detail on Instagram, if you'd like to read more). We all take it as read that going to an external competition means levelled up riding skills, but it also means coach-rider relationships get levelled up too. I learn a lot about riders from seeing them highlighted or under pressure, and they also get to know more about me - mainly that I'm a stone cold stoic in most situations, but will cry when I'm happy. (I also had to tell a couple of amusing anecdotes to break down nerves which I absolutely cannot repeat here: needs must.)

It is a really special experience to be able to guide someone through an occasion which puts them and their skills in the spotlight, and to come out the other side with everyone feeling good about themselves. To be that guide for someone who has never had the experience before means even more patience, kindness, and encouragement. We had volunteers experiencing their first RDA competition at the same time this year, and non-competing participants joining us to soak up the atmosphere and feel inspired for the future: this is all part of the culture we want to keep building for our group. It was a big win for me to see our first-timers so self-assured, motivated, and excited. Nerves are a normal part of competing - for coaches and helpers too! - but it's important to remember that we are all doing this for fun. 

It was touching, too, to see the genuine sportsmanship and humility from our riders and from our fellow groups. Whenever I passed by our regional chair with a different rider of mine and a different rider of hers, "good luck"s were always exchanged. I'll sharpen my elbows and generally sell souls to win a run of the mill gymkhana race as a side walker back at home, but at a bigger competition I actually think it's really important to lean into the sportsmanship, especially if that's what we expect from our riders. It's hard to imagine after such a successful year, but there will be times when things don't go people's way - and that's totally fine.

All smiles after Orli and Tayto's dressage test

As a new group who hire horses every time we need to use them, our horsepower was actually one of the biggest obstacles in our planning. We were definitely winning with the four we were able to use for the competition: Harley, a true RDA pro from Lambourn, where I coach every weekend, and Dennis, Tayto and Billy, from our Shrivenham site. Hoof-perfect behaviour is never guaranteed at a competition, even for RDA horses, but they all seemed to be totally on board with how important this occasion was for our riders and were totally wonderful. 

I am particularly indebted to ex-polo pony Tayto, who looked after three of my riders who had ridden him a combined total of three times prior to the competition. Due to a last minute horse change (I never said the road was totally smooth) Orli rode him for the first time in the warm up for twenty minutes prior to her dressage test. She looked the challenge in the eye, said "ok", and was totally composed, breaking the 70% mark. Tayto didn't put a foot wrong or bring home a score of under 67% all day: he looked so proud of August and Anna, his other two riders, and compared to his high-octane polo career was probably thinking to himself what a charming, peaceful little outing it was. Lambourn RDA's Harley, piloted by my fourth rider, Holly, is a career RDA horse who knew exactly what she needed. Types like him are hard to find, let alone be offered a ride on for a competition: definitely a huge win.

It was also really special to watch my long time volunteer Mia ride her test on her beloved Billy, a piebald cob with the tongue of a friendly golden retriever and feathers which wouldn't look out of place in a seventies music video. Mia has struggled in the past with anxiety during competitions, which has been a source of massive frustration for her because they are something she really wants to do. A mammoth effort of compassion and grit (plus Billy) meant I have never seen her happier or calmer in the white boards. Her excitement was also infectious in the most fun way possible for all of my riders, who she sees when she volunteers every weekend. I'm not sure I could imagine a competition without Mia after all the years I've known her, so I'm glad she has found joy and balance in her own dressage tests.

Mia, Billy and Alice after her test

Finally, a personal but life-affirming (zero exaggeration) win for me was managing to snag the last toastie of the day from the toastie van, when the lorry park was a ghost town but for me and my loyal volunteer Lucy. I may have lucked out with a well-spaced schedule of test times for my four riders, but this did mean I was consistently occupied for the majority of the event with no obvious toastie window. Cheese and Marmite (Marmite haters need not spread their negative energy here) have never tasted so satisfying. 

I did also come face to face with a non-win the day after, when I remembered I hadn't taken my own advice: "always book the day after Regionals off work". I'd not only failed to book the day off, I'd also booked a full day event at my day job, which consequently featured periods of me sitting at the back of the room contemplating how stiff I was and how early I might be able to retire (the answer is "not early enough" so we had to keep pushing through). If that was my only real loss of the weekend, that speaks volumes. It really was the happiest qualifier I've ever experienced: from the way we as a group were able to structure the experience with our own culture; to the behaviour of "our" horses; to finishing my day as the greasy-fingered Marmite toastie goblin I truly am inside (and then trying not to cry to my own motivational playlist on the drive home). 

At the end of the day, it's always going to be easier not to try and pull off days like these. The mammoth effort on the day is one thing, but it doesn't even scratch the surface of all the preparation, negotiation, planning, and training that has to happen months in advance. The risk of disappointment is high: for grassroots RDA riders, there might not be another opportunity to get out and compete for another whole year, and these opportunities mean a lot - even if RDA is much more than just these special days. Not everyone is able to be this committed to other people's goals: if you're one of those people, you're winning, and the people you're helping are winning even more.

Only six weeks to go until Nationals - see you there?

Waiting for Anna after her dressage test. I like the other heads from our group poking through the fence!

Huge thank yous are owed to the South Region committee (especially Cassilda), Lambourn RDA, and Shrivenham Equestrian Centre for making such a special day possible.