Why I Always Thank My Ground Crew After a Run

When I finish an eventing round, the first people I look for are rarely the judge, the photographer or even my friends gathered beside the arena. I look towards the lorry park, the warm-up rail or the gate where my ground crew is waiting. Before I have fully taken off my gloves, I am usually saying thank you.

That habit has grown from experience. Eventing may look like an individual sport once the horse and rider enter the ring, but every run is supported by a small, busy team. Someone has checked the girth, held the horse, watched the weather, carried water, read the times and kept me steady when nerves threatened to take over. The run belongs to all of us.

The Run Starts Long Before The Bell

A competition day begins well before the start box or dressage warm-up. In Australia, that can mean leaving home before sunrise because the event is several hours from Sydney, Melbourne or Brisbane, with a float packed the night before and a thermos wedged beside the feed bags. At smaller regional events, the distance is often part of the sport. The person helping me needs to be awake, organised and prepared for a long day before I have even put on my competition shirt.

Ground crew handle the practical details that are easy to overlook when I am concentrating on riding. They fill hay nets, check water, locate the secretary’s office and make sure I know when my dressage test, show jumping round or cross-country start time has shifted. They keep an eye on the horse while I walk the course, and they notice small changes in behaviour that I might miss because I am mentally replaying a related distance or a tricky line.

There is also a financial commitment behind their time. Entry fees, lessons, fuel, agistment and farrier bills have all risen sharply in the Australian horse market, while suitable yards near major cities can be difficult to secure. A friend who spends a whole Saturday helping is giving me something valuable. Their contribution is measured in hours, fuel and physical effort, even when they refuse to accept anything more than a coffee or a sausage sandwich from the canteen.

They Keep Me Thinking Clearly

My brain is not always a reliable place on competition morning. I can become fixed on one mistake in dressage, worry about a fence in the cross-country warm-up or convince myself that the horse feels different when the real issue is my own tension. A trusted person on the ground can bring me back to the immediate job.

That might involve a simple reminder to breathe, lower my shoulders or stop riding the last test in my head. It might mean asking me to walk away from the warm-up and let the horse have a quiet minute. Good support is not loud for the sake of being noticed. It is calm, observant and specific. The right words can prevent a spiral before it becomes visible to anyone else.

This matters particularly when I am balancing horses with employment and ordinary responsibilities. Finding time to train while working full-time requires careful planning, and I have written about juggling work and training because the pressure does not disappear when I arrive at an event. If I am tired from an early start or a busy week, my ground crew often recognises it before I do. They help me make sensible choices rather than chase a result at the expense of my horse or myself.

They Protect The Horse’s Welfare

Thanking my team is also a way of acknowledging the responsibility we share towards the horse. A successful round is never worth ignoring dehydration, overheating, soreness or unusual behaviour. Australian conditions can make this especially important. A spring event may turn hot by late morning, while summer competitions require careful attention to shade, electrolytes and the length of time a horse stands on a float or in a crowded yard.

Someone on the ground can monitor the details while I am riding. They can offer water after a test, loosen a breastplate, check a rub and notice whether the horse is recovering normally after cross-country. They know where the ice, sponge and spare rugs are kept. Their practical care helps me make decisions based on the horse’s condition rather than on my desire to complete every phase.

This responsibility sits within broader animal welfare expectations and state-based law. Australian riders have duties under legislation such as the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Acts and related codes, with requirements varying between states and territories. Eventing bodies also set rules around equipment, conduct and horse welfare. My crew does not replace veterinary or professional advice, but their watchfulness is an important safeguard. A second pair of eyes can identify a problem early, when stopping is the kindest and safest option.

They Carry The Messy Parts Of Competition

The glamorous image of eventing leaves out the wet rugs, muddy boots and frantic searches for a missing number bib. Ground crew are present for all of it. They hold the horse while I change tack, clean the bit after a dusty warm-up and rescue my jacket when the temperature rises. If the weather turns, they deal with the practical consequences while I focus on keeping the next phase organised.

At Australian venues, that can involve very particular challenges. A sudden downpour can turn a grass car park into a slow-moving obstacle course, while dry conditions create dust around the warm-up and water points. A long float trip between properties means checking tyres, ventilation and rest stops. Biosecurity is another consideration: cleaning mud from boots and equipment, following venue instructions and avoiding the spread of weeds or disease between yards are ordinary parts of responsible competition travel.

The local market makes those small jobs more significant than they may appear. Replacement gear is not always available immediately, especially outside a major centre, and a missing overreach boot or broken rein can become a serious problem when the nearest saddlery is a long drive away. My ground crew carry spares, improvise sensibly and know which items can be repaired and which cannot. Their preparation turns a potential crisis into an inconvenience.

I also appreciate the emotional labour. They listen when I am disappointed by a mark, remind me of what went well and stop me from giving a dramatic post-round review while I am still overheated. They do not need to pretend every ride was perfect. They give me enough honesty to learn and enough perspective to keep one result in its proper place.

Gratitude Strengthens The Partnership

The thank you after a run is not a performance or a polite phrase I say automatically. It is a recognition that the partnership extends beyond the horse and rider. Eventing asks us to trust people with important jobs, and trust is built through repeated, ordinary acts: arriving on time, telling the truth, checking the weather and speaking up when something looks wrong.

I have learned that appreciation should be specific. Instead of saying a vague thank you while rushing towards the next task, I try to name what someone did. I might thank them for catching a change in the horse, walking the course with me, keeping me calm at the start box or remembering the spare gloves. Specific gratitude shows that I noticed the work, even when the work happened quietly in the background.

It also creates a healthier culture at competitions. Riders can become absorbed in scores, placings and social media updates, particularly when every result is photographed and shared. Acknowledging the people who support the day keeps the focus on cooperation. It reminds me that the groom, parent, partner, coach, friend and fellow competitor are not scenery around my performance. They are part of the community that makes the sport possible.

That community is one of the reasons I keep returning to eventing. There is generosity in the way people lend a stud kit, hold a nervous horse or walk back to the float with someone who has had a difficult round. We compete against the clock, but we also depend on one another. The finish line may record a time, yet it cannot measure the value of every person who helped us get there.

After I have thanked my ground crew, I usually turn my attention back to the horse. We loosen tack, cool down, offer a drink and take a quiet moment before packing up. Then I thank the people beside me again, because one expression rarely seems enough. Their help has shaped the entire day, from the first feed before dawn to the final bandage at home.

Bring that same recognition into your next competition: name the people who support you, thank them for the work they actually do and make space for their contribution in your story. A run may last only a few minutes, but the team behind it deserves to be remembered long after the score sheet is folded away.