Think of Perfect Moments
I was 42 and no one’s idea of an athlete when I bought Eli, my first horse.
He was six, and no one’s idea of a beginner’s horse. He was a Thoroughbred—a racehorse—who’d been brought to the barn, where I’d been taking lessons, as a prospect for somebody else.
The racehorse freaked out upon arrival and reverted to type, dragging his two delivery men across our indoor arena on their stomachs. Our trainer, an accomplished dressage rider, took one look at this scrawny, scruffy know-nothing and pronounced him unsuitable. He was going back where he came from, a Thoroughbred breeding farm in Millbrook, New York, just as soon as she had time to take him.
She didn’t have time that week or the next. So he hung around, looking miserable and lost until I mentioned to her that the new horse looked “miserable and lost.” She assigned an advanced student to sit on him and see if he was teachable. As long as he was hanging around, he might as well be learning something.
I signed on as his groom, and he soon had me smitten. A couple of lessons, a pre-purchase exam, and a two-month trial later, I was the proud owner of my very first horse, something I’d wanted my whole life.
Eli is now 23 to my 58, and he remains the love of my life. I wrote a memoir, Falling For Eli, and sold it to Da Capo Lifelong for publication in May of 2012. The book chronicles our first twelve years together, filled with injuries and illnesses, gargantuan vet bills, surly trainers, ice storms and blizzards.
Beyond horses, it deals with fairly universal themes, the stuff we all deal with in life: euphoric love, dizzying joy, heart-stopping triumph, and their evil twins: disappointment, rejection and loss.
When I first started writing it, I thought of it as a love story. But by the time I was done, I realized it was more. It’s a story about families and fertility, community and friendship, and the ongoing struggle to live with the choices we make.
What made you decide to finally realize your lifelong dream?
I traded one dream — that of having a child — for another — that of owning a horse — when it became obvious that despite my efforts, being a mother was not in the cards for me. I lost four babies within a relatively short time, despite aggressive infertility treatments. I came to feel as if I were hurtling myself off a cliff every time I got pregnant. Eventually, I reached a point at which I could no longer bring myself to take the mental and physical plunge.
Enter Eli. My childhood dream of owning a horse had fallen by the wayside decades earlier. A husband, a job, a dog, a commute to the city from our house in the suburbs, all conspired to make horse ownership a pipe dream — or so I’d thought. Then a chance conversation between my husband and a colleague who owned horses changed my life. I started small: Visiting her and her horse at a boarding barn a half-hour from my house. One visit led to another, and that led to a chance to take lessons on my friend’s horse. He suffered an injury, but my trainer came up with another horse for me. I leased her until her owners retired to Florida. That’s when Eli came into my life.
What were the specific obstacles that you faced?
There was no shortage of reasons not to buy him. He was a 6-year-old hot-head, a Thoroughbred with little training and a wicked spook. But there was something about him — his sweetness, his playfulness, his willingness to learn — that transcended my fears and self-doubts. Since childhood, horses had been therapeutic for me, in what little time I’d had to be around them. With my sister and her family — my surrogate children — heading for a new life on the West Coast and leaving me behind on the East, I definitely needed something to fill the hole left by their departure. It felt huge, but then again, so did Eli. The time seemed ripe for a leap of faith.
What helped you get through them?
I was lucky in that I had a very supportive husband, as well as supportive family and friends. Some were old, like the neighborhood Moms whom I’d avoided prior to finding Eli. Some were new, like the other middle-aged women who boarded their horses at my barn. I always had an extra pair of eyes watching out for me as I began learning to ride and care for my horse. Still, there were times when I felt overwhelmed.
Were there people that tried to discourage you? Who were they and what did they say to you?
For every supportive horse-owner, there was a detractor. The barn manager, for one, made me feel as if I knew nothing. My trainer, so patient when I first started taking lessons from her, could reduce me to tears with her harsh assessments of my performance in the saddle. And a fellow boarder, a friend at first, always seemed to be watching — and enjoying herself immensely — whenever my lessons went badly, as they often did. My confidence took many direct hits.
How did you feel when you finally accomplished your lifelong dream?
Buying Eli was more the beginning than the culmination of achieving my dream. It took me years to feel competent with my horse. I fired two trainers, changed barns four times, and nursed him through enough injuries and illnesses to fill the memoir I eventually wrote about the journey he and I took together. It was only after I’d finished writing Falling For Eli that I realized how far we had come. It had taken every mile, every setback, every obstacle for us to get there.
What advice would you give to others that are contemplating finally living their dream?
Dreams can be deceptive. Reality has a way of rubbing up against our fairy-tale notions of how and what they should be. That isn’t to say dreams aren’t worth pursuing — they are, and achieving them belongs on the short list of things that truly give life its luster. Just remember to think in terms of perfect moments, as opposed to perfect weeks, months, or years. Any dream worth its salt requires effort, and that effort is ongoing. It never ends.
Click here to learn more about Nancy and her book, Falling for Eli.
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