Behind the Scenes: My Life in a Bathrobe (and on a Barrel Horse)
People assume barrel racers wake up at dawn, saddle up with perfect hair, and ride into the arena like a Marlboro ad. Let me set the record straight: my mornings usually begin in a bathrobe, holding a mug of coffee like it’s life support, staring out the window at a horse who’s already giving me side-eye because breakfast is five minutes late.
The bathrobe isn’t a glamorous silk one, either. It’s the faded, hay-dusted, occasionally chicken-pecked kind of robe that has seen better days. But it’s functional. I can toss feed in it, chase a goat in it, and still be back inside in time to answer emails like I’m a civilized human. Half my life happens in that robe. It’s practically a uniform.
Then there’s the other half of my life: the one in the saddle. People see the highlight reel—me flying around barrels, leaning so far into a turn I look like I’m trying to shake hands with the dirt. What they don’t see is me, ten minutes earlier, yanking hay out of my hair and praying my horse doesn’t decide today’s the day he forgets how to stop.
There’s this strange duality: bathrobe me, who whispers motivational speeches to herself while refilling water buckets, and barrel-racer me, who grits her teeth in the alleyway, counting heartbeats until the gate swings open. Together, they make a whole person—albeit one who probably should invest in more detergent.
The truth is, the bathrobe is just as much a part of the story as the saddle. It’s the unfiltered version of a life that looks glamorous only in slow-motion highlight reels. Behind the scenes, it’s mud-splattered boots, duct-taped gear, and the occasional rooster ambush. But it’s also the laughter that bubbles up when the horse nails a pattern, the pride in knowing the hard work pays off, and the comfort of a hot cup of coffee after chores.
So yes, you’ll find me in two extremes: wrapped in a bathrobe with bedhead or flying full-speed around a barrel pattern. Somewhere in between those worlds is the real me—someone who doesn’t mind a little chaos, a little dust, and a lot of story-worthy moments.
Because life on the farm, much like life in the arena, is rarely polished. But it’s always real. And sometimes, it’s downright hilarious.
