Barrel racing is any little cowgirls dream and I was lucky enough to be able to do so. My passion started early. At the age of five my uncle bought me a Shetland pony named Peanut. Every weekend we were at the show. I remember always getting nervous right before I entered the arena and the huge adrenaline rush. The crowd would yell and scream while I was trying to remember the pattern, though I had done it a million times. I would be praying we didn’t knock a barrel over
Barrel racing is any little cowgirls dream and I was lucky enough to be able to do so. My passion started early. At the age of five my uncle bought me a Shetland pony named Peanut. Every weekend we were at the show. I remember always getting nervous right before I entered the arena and the huge adrenaline rush. The crowd would yell and scream while I was trying to remember the pattern, though I had done it a million times. I would be praying we didn’t knock a barrel over