Why I keep an eventing journal for Archie and me
Eventing gives me plenty to remember: the way Archie felt in the warm-up, the fence that rode differently from home, the weather at the venue, and the small decisions that changed the day. Some details stay vivid for a week or two, but even a memorable competition becomes surprisingly difficult to reconstruct months later. That is why I keep a detailed eventing journal.
My notebook is part training record, part horse-care log, and part honest account of life between competitions. It follows the gradual work behind a dressage test, a show-jumping round, or a cross-country course. I record the useful details, but I also write down the frustrating ones, because those often reveal the clearest route forward.
The journal is not intended to make every ride sound polished. It helps me notice patterns in Archie’s way of going and in my own preparation. When I look back through several weeks of notes, I can see whether a problem was a one-off moment, a training gap, a management issue, or something that needs advice from my coach or veterinarian.
A record that turns memories into evidence
Immediately after a competition, I tend to remember the most dramatic moments. A dropped rail, an unexpectedly good movement, or a tense approach to a fence can dominate my thoughts. Those moments matter, but they do not always represent the whole performance. Writing a fuller account gives the rest of the day a place in the record.
I note what happened before the class as well as what happened in it. Travel, stabling, feeding, weather, warm-up time, and the general atmosphere can all affect how Archie settles. If he was distracted in the collecting ring or unusually quiet in the lorry, that context may explain something that would otherwise look like a simple schooling mistake.
The journal also protects me from relying too heavily on emotion. A disappointing score can make me feel that everything went wrong, while a clear round can make me overlook details that still need work. A written review encourages a more balanced account: what improved, what felt difficult, and what I actually know rather than what I feared in the moment.
What I write before a competition
My pre-event notes begin several days before the trip. I record the planned classes, travelling arrangements, entry times, and the work Archie is doing in the lead-up. This creates a simple timeline and helps me avoid treating competition preparation as a single hectic day.
I also write down practical checks. These include tack, boots, grooming equipment, paperwork, feed, water, clothing, and anything needed for the overnight stay. Keeping the same checklist in my journal makes packing less dependent on memory. It is especially useful when an event involves an early start, a long drive, or more than one phase.
Training intentions go into the record too. I might plan to focus on rhythm in dressage, balanced turns in show jumping, or a confident pace and straightness for cross-country. These intentions give each schooling session a purpose. They also help me distinguish between preparing a specific skill and simply exercising because a competition is approaching.
I leave room for changes. Horses do not follow a perfect calendar, and Archie may need an easier day, a different exercise, or extra attention to recovery. Recording the original plan beside what we actually did shows whether the adjustment helped. It also stops me from viewing a changed programme as a failure.
The details of training with Archie
After a ride, I write down the basics: the date, discipline, duration, surface, weather, and how Archie felt at the start. Then I describe the session in more useful terms than “good” or “bad.” I might mention that his rhythm improved after transitions, that he was tense in one rein, or that he found a particular exercise easy once I stopped rushing it.
I pay attention to his responses rather than trying to force every session into a score. His way of going, willingness to move forward, concentration, and recovery all provide information. Notes about stiffness, unusual reluctance, or a change in appetite are recorded clearly so they can be monitored rather than dismissed as vague impressions.
My own riding receives equal space. I write about my position, timing, contact, balance, and confidence. This can be uncomfortable, but eventing is a partnership. If Archie runs toward a fence, I need to consider whether I created uncertainty through my approach or failed to support him. If the dressage work feels blocked, my aids and expectations may be part of the picture.
Over time, these entries become a practical training history. They show which exercises have helped, how long a new skill took to settle, and which issues return when I am tired or under pressure. That information is far more useful than trying to remember a handful of impressive rides.
Notes from the competition day
Competition-day writing usually happens in short bursts. Before a class, I may record how Archie travelled, whether he ate and drank normally, and how he behaved while warming up. I write down the warm-up exercises that made him feel focused, along with anything that seemed to increase tension or fatigue.
After dressage, I record the test while the sequence is still fresh. I note the movements that felt secure, the transitions that lacked preparation, and the moments when my concentration slipped. Scores and judge comments are included, but they are not the entire review. A mark tells me how the performance was assessed; my notes help me understand how it felt and what might be changed.
Show jumping and cross-country require different observations. For show jumping, I look at pace, related distances, turns, approach, and the way Archie responded after a fence. For cross-country, I record the course condition, my pace plan, the questions that required the most thought, and how Archie recovered afterward. I also note whether my decisions matched the plan I made during the course walk.
There are small human details worth recording too. What did I eat? Did I have enough time to tack up calmly? Was my clothing comfortable in the weather? My riding apparel notes sometimes explain why I felt distracted or overheated. These observations are practical rather than glamorous, but comfort and organisation can influence concentration during a long event.
Comparing the entries over time
A journal becomes especially valuable when I compare several entries instead of reading one in isolation. I can look at the same movement, type of fence, or warm-up problem across different dates. This helps separate a persistent pattern from an isolated mistake caused by weather, nerves, footing, or an unusual schedule.
I sometimes summarise the information in a simple comparison so the main trend is easy to see. The categories do not need to be scientific. Their purpose is to make a large number of small observations easier to interpret.
| Area I track | What I record | What it can reveal |
|---|---|---|
| Dressage | Rhythm, contact, transitions, accuracy, judge comments | Whether tension or loss of balance is recurring |
| Show jumping | Approach, pace, turns, rails, distances | Whether mistakes begin before or at the fence |
| Cross-country | Course questions, pace, confidence, recovery | How Archie responds to terrain and technical demands |
| Daily training | Exercise, duration, surface, mood, response | Which schooling patterns support steady progress |
| Horse care | Appetite, water, limbs, soreness, rest | Changes that may need closer monitoring |
| Rider preparation | Sleep, food, clothing, nerves, timing | Habits that affect my focus and decision-making |
The comparison also helps when I speak with my coach. Instead of saying that Archie has “felt strange lately,” I can describe when the change started, what exercises were involved, and whether it appeared in more than one setting. Clear information makes a lesson more productive and gives my coach something specific to assess.
The same applies to professional care. A vet, physiotherapist, or saddle fitter can work with a timeline rather than a general impression. The journal does not replace professional advice, and I never treat a notebook entry as a diagnosis. It simply helps me notice and communicate changes responsibly.
Using the journal between competitions
The weeks between events are where the record becomes an active planning tool. I review recent entries and choose a small number of priorities rather than trying to fix everything at once. One period may focus on steadier transitions, while another may centre on jumping rhythm or confidence over a particular type of cross-country question.
I also use the journal to plan recovery. A demanding competition may be followed by lighter work, turnout, hacking, or rest, depending on how Archie is feeling. Writing down the recovery plan makes it easier to judge whether he returned to his usual way of going. It prevents me from moving straight into the next training target simply because the calendar says another event is coming.
Patterns in care are just as important as patterns in schooling. I can see whether Archie drank well after travel, how he settled in unfamiliar stabling, and whether his appetite changed after a hard day. Notes about rugs, boots, grooming, feed, and turnout help me make practical decisions based on his history rather than habit.
The journal also records the emotional side of eventing. Confidence rises and falls, especially after a mistake or a competition that did not match expectations. Writing honestly about nerves makes them less mysterious. I can identify whether I am worrying about the result, rushing the warm-up, or carrying one old error into the next round.
Keeping the system useful and manageable
A detailed journal does not have to become an elaborate administrative project. I use a format that is quick enough to maintain after an ordinary weekday ride. The important thing is consistency, not artistic presentation. A few precise sentences are more valuable than a beautiful page left blank for a month.
I keep recurring headings for date, discipline, work completed, Archie’s response, my riding, care notes, and next steps. For competitions, I add travel, warm-up, performance, course notes, scores, and recovery. Familiar sections make it easier to write when I am tired and make older entries easier to scan.
I separate observations from interpretations whenever possible. “Shortened stride in left rein for first ten minutes” is more useful than “felt off.” I can then add a cautious interpretation, such as “improved after walking and transitions,” without presenting a guess as fact. This habit makes the journal more accurate and easier to share with professionals.
At the end of each week, I review the entries and write a short summary. I identify one improvement, one concern to monitor, and one priority for the coming days. That weekly review keeps the journal connected to real training rather than allowing it to become a collection of disconnected ride reports.
Small habits that make the record stronger
- Write the first notes as soon as practical after riding or competing, before sensations and details fade.
- Use specific descriptions of rhythm, balance, responsiveness, and recovery instead of relying only on “good” or “bad.”
- Record the horse’s routine and environment alongside performance so outside influences remain visible.
- Include rider preparation, nerves, comfort, and timing because they affect the partnership too.
- Review entries regularly and turn repeated observations into one or two clear training priorities.
The value of an eventing journal lies in the accumulation of ordinary details. A single note about a difficult transition may not seem important, but several similar notes can reveal a training theme. A comment about Archie drinking less after travel may become useful when planning the next overnight competition. A record of my own rushed warm-up may explain why the same kind of mistake keeps appearing.
Writing also gives me a way to appreciate progress that scores do not always show. Archie may become more settled in a new venue, recover more quickly after cross-country, or feel more consistent in the warm-up before the results reflect that change. Those developments deserve to be recognised, and the journal gives me evidence that they happened.
For me, the notebook is part of the partnership. It holds the practical facts, the training questions, the hard lessons, and the moments that make eventing worthwhile. I will keep adding to it as Archie and I travel to the next lesson, schooling session, and competition, using each entry to prepare more thoughtfully for the ride ahead.