Some goals come from ambition. Some from curiosity. Some from heartbreak.

When my mum was given a stage 4 cancer diagnosis in May, the world shifted. All those someday plans suddenly got a deadline stamped on them. For her, there was one big, bright, very horsey wish on her bucket list: Hickstead.

From taking my Aunt many years ago, to taking me not so many years ago, it’s always been a significant venue for Mum and the whole family. So many family stories start with… “Do you remember at Hickstead when…”

That was it. The goal.

Until that moment, Hugo’s plan was gentle and logical. After all, he hasn’t had the easiest ride up to this point – a lot of rehab, a lot of rebuilding. From a £1 “project pony” to (hopefully) a superstar, we were in no rush. But with Pie now aged 30 and with his best Hickstead days behind him (although obviously don’t tell him that!), it felt like the young one better step up!

So now, September has a new kind of gravity. Every step towards it feels heavier… and more precious.

SMART Goals (with a very big heart attached)

The SMART system – Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Time-bound – have always serviced me well….

• Specific: Ride Hugo at Hickstead with Mum there to see it.
• Measurable: Compete confidently at 90cm (the smallest class there is!)
• Achievable: With focus, teamwork, extra training, and her belief in us – yes.
• Relevant: It’s Mum’s bucket list wish so relevant doesn’t even cover it!
• Time-bound: 3rd to 7th September.

It looks so tidy written down. But the truth is, it’s not just about fences and deadlines – it’s about having as many Mum-made magical moments as possible along the way.

The Magic of the Mothership

Mum at a show isn’t just a helper. She’s the general, the hostess, the anchor, the atmosphere-maker. Everything has its place. The tack will gleam, the boots will sparkle, the lorry will be a base camp of calm efficiency.

Every single show I’ve ever done, Mum has been there. She has always known exactly what to say, the right words to calm me, the right silence to steady me. She’s had absolute faith in me and my horses, even on the days I didn’t. She’s known when to push, when to pack up, and when to decide, “It’s not our day, let’s go home.”

And then there’s the food. Forget cheesy chips…. We’ve had lamb cutlets, potato dauphinois and a jus in a muddy, raining field in the middle of nowhere. Yes, really. There will be a gin and tonic chilling in the fridge, just in case someone needs one. She’ll have probably adopted a random stranger who needs cheering up, or be making tea for the security and parking crew.

This is the magic. The little extras. The warmth, the precision, the complete belief that not only will we get round, but that we’ll look good doing it too.

The Plan

So, Hugo’s in training. Hickstead is the destination. The journey there will be peppered with picnics, laughter, organisation that would make the military blush, and the kind of support you feel down to your bones.

Hickstead isn’t just a show. It’s a symbol of everything we’ve done together: the love, the grit, the joy, the picnics….

If we get there, with Hugo’s ears pricked and Mum watching from the side, it will be far more than just a tick on a bucket list.