Five Things I Do The Night Before A Competition
The night before a horse trial has its own particular atmosphere. The lorry may be parked outside, boots may be drying by the door, and my brain may be running through dressage tests, show jumps, cross-country fences, and every possible detail I could have forgotten. I have learned that preparation is less about creating a perfect evening and more about removing unnecessary decisions from the morning.
Eventing asks a lot from both horse and rider. We need energy, concentration, coordination, and enough calm to make sensible choices when the atmosphere becomes busy. A thoughtful pre-competition routine gives me a better chance of arriving present rather than frazzled.
My evening is not elaborate, and it changes when travel, weather, or an early start gets involved. These five habits are the dependable parts. They help me care for my horse, protect my own confidence, and make space for the partnership that matters once we step through the start box.
Turn The Schedule Into A Simple Plan
My first job is to stop treating the next day as one enormous event. I look at the times in order: arrival, horse inspection if there is one, dressage, show jumping, cross-country, and any gaps between phases. I check the competition schedule early enough that I am not discovering a timing problem while trying to plait or load the horse.
Then I work backwards from the first thing that truly requires me to be ready. If dressage begins at eight, I calculate when the horse needs to be groomed, tacked up, warmed up, and walking toward the arena. I allow time for parking, collecting numbers, finding the secretary’s office, and dealing with the inevitable conversation that takes longer than expected. A plan with breathing room is much more useful than a beautiful plan that collapses after one delay.
I write the key times somewhere I will actually see them, usually in my phone and on a scrap of paper in my grooming bag. I also note what must happen between phases. A horse may need a drink, a rug change, a quick leg check, or a quiet walk. Having those reminders recorded means I can focus on what is happening in front of me instead of holding the whole day in my head.
Pack For The Real Day Ahead
Packing is the part of the evening that makes me feel most capable. I put together the horse’s equipment first: bridle, saddle, numnah, girth, boots, overreach boots, studs if needed, grooming kit, rugs, water, feed, and spare headcollars. I check that everything is clean enough to use and easy to locate. A missing hoof pick is a small problem at home and a surprisingly dramatic problem beside a lorry.
I pack my own things in layers because competition weather has a habit of ignoring the forecast. Riding clothes, waterproofs, gloves, hat, body protector, boots, casual clothes, sunscreen, snacks, and a refillable water bottle all go into the same general system. I keep important items together rather than scattering them between the car, lorry, and yard. My future self is grateful for this when the morning is dark and my hands are cold.
The spare kit matters too. I bring extra gloves, safety pins, plaiting bands, towels, a basic first-aid kit, hoof-picking tools, and more snacks than seem necessary. I do not pack for every imaginable disaster, but I do prepare for ordinary inconveniences. A broken rein, wet gloves, loose plaits, or a forgotten number bib should be irritating rather than day-ending.
There is also a practical emotional benefit to packing early. Once the bags are shut and the equipment is grouped, the competition feels contained. I can see what I have done instead of repeatedly wondering whether I have done enough.
Check The Horse Without Creating A Fuss
My third evening habit is a quiet physical check of the horse. I run my hands over legs, back, girth area, and feet, looking for heat, swelling, tenderness, rubs, or anything that feels different from normal. This is not the time for enthusiastic experimentation. I want information, not a new problem caused by trying a product, feed, or piece of equipment for the first time.
I pay attention to the horse’s general mood as well. Is he eating normally? Is he drinking? Does he seem settled in his stable or unusually restless? Horses communicate through small changes, and a calm evening gives me a better chance of noticing them. If something concerns me, I would rather make a sensible decision at home than persuade myself that it will disappear at the venue.
The final grooming is deliberately unhurried. I pick out feet, brush off the last stable marks, check the mane and tail, and make sure the horse is comfortable for the night. If plaits are part of the plan, I prefer to finish them with enough time to redo one that looks hopeless. The aim is tidy and comfortable, not a late-night battle over perfection.
I also set out feed and water arrangements according to the horse’s normal routine. Competition day is already full of novelty, so I try to keep the familiar parts familiar. A horse that travels, eats, rests, and wakes up in a predictable rhythm has a better foundation for handling the atmosphere around the arenas.
Protect Energy And Sleep
Food and sleep are easy to neglect when nerves are high. I make a proper evening meal rather than surviving on whatever can be eaten while carrying tack. It does not need to be complicated: something filling, familiar, and easy to digest works best for me. I also prepare breakfast and a few portable snacks so the morning does not depend on finding an open café near the showground.
Hydration receives the same attention. I fill water bottles before bed and keep one beside me overnight. This sounds basic, but a long drive, cold weather, and adrenaline can make it surprisingly easy to arrive already behind on fluids. I want to begin the day feeling steady, not headachy and thirsty.
My evening choices change depending on whether I am staying at home, sleeping near the venue, or travelling before dawn. The standards remain fairly consistent:
| Evening Priority | What I Do | Why It Helps |
|---|---|---|
| Food | Eat a familiar meal with enough carbohydrates and protein | Supports energy without creating digestive surprises |
| Hydration | Fill bottles and drink steadily rather than all at once | Helps me start the day alert and comfortable |
| Sleep | Set alarms, put the phone away, and go to bed on time | Protects reaction time and emotional control |
| Horse routine | Keep feed, water, and rest as normal as possible | Gives the horse a settled transition into competition |
| Morning preparation | Lay out clothes and equipment before bed | Reduces rushed decisions before leaving |
I do not expect to sleep perfectly before a competition. That expectation would create another thing to worry about. Instead, I aim for rest. I dim the lights, stop checking messages, and put my phone somewhere that requires effort to reach. If I wake during the night, I remind myself that one imperfect night does not erase months of training.
Rehearse The Ride, Not The Disaster
The fifth thing I do is spend a short period mentally walking through the competition. I picture the first halt in dressage, the transition between movements, the opening line of the show-jumping course, and the places on cross-country where I need to stay balanced and make a clear decision. I focus on useful details: breathing, looking ahead, keeping my leg on, and allowing the horse to do the job we have practised.
This is different from imagining a flawless round. Perfection is too fragile to be a useful plan. I prefer to rehearse how I will respond if a transition is late, a pole falls, the warm-up is crowded, or the horse looks at a fence. The mental instruction is usually simple: breathe, regain rhythm, and ride the next piece of the course.
I also read through the dressage test once or twice, but I avoid drilling it until the words become meaningless. I want the sequence clear in my mind while leaving enough flexibility to ride the horse I have underneath me. Eventing rewards attention to what is actually happening, and over-rehearsing can pull me away from that.
These are the reminders I keep closest when nerves begin to rise:
- Ride the rhythm before chasing the result.
- Look early, breathe steadily, and keep my aids clear.
- Treat each phase as one ride rather than carrying mistakes forward.
- Let the horse have a voice without handing over all the decision-making.
- Choose a calm correction instead of a dramatic reaction.
Leave Room For The Morning
A good evening routine should make the morning quieter, not fill every minute with tasks. Before bed, I put keys, phone, paperwork, hat, and boots in one place. I check that the lorry or car is ready, confirm the route, and make sure there is enough fuel. I set two alarms and tell my family what time I need to leave so everyone knows the plan.
I leave a little flexibility around the horse’s final check. There may be a change in temperature, a sudden rain shower, or a minor adjustment to loading. Rigid preparation can become another source of panic when circumstances move by ten minutes. The important details are ready, but I leave room to respond like a person rather than a machine.
Before switching off the light, I try to mark the end of preparation. I might look at one photograph from a recent training session, write down a brief reminder, or simply stand with the horse for a few quiet minutes. That pause reconnects the competition with the reason I do it. The goal is not to manufacture nerves into excitement; it is to remember that this is a shared experience built over many ordinary rides.
The night before a competition cannot guarantee a perfect test, clear round, or confident cross-country ride. It can give me a rested body, a prepared horse, organized equipment, and a mind that has fewer loose threads to chase. Those things matter because they leave more attention available for the partnership once the start bell rings.
Save this routine for your next horse trial and adapt it to your own horse, travel arrangements, and competition timetable. Pack with care, protect your energy, and give yourself permission to arrive prepared rather than perfect. The best preparation is the kind that lets you meet the day with enough calm to ride the horse in front of you.