Ambulance Rides & OTTBs: The Plot Twist I Didn’t See Coming
By Shaq Blake
On March 28, 2023, I found myself strapped to a gurney in the back of an ambulance, my neighborhood blurring past the rear window as we sped toward the ER. I cracked jokes with the paramedics like it was any regular Tuesday, but inside, I was spiraling.
My job was draining the life out of me. My relationships—professional, platonic, and otherwise—were frayed at the edges. Despite my hours, my bank account was hanging on by a thread. I was exhausted. I was unraveling. And worst of all? I couldn’t remember the last time the thought of seeing my horses made me feel anything but dread.
That was my wake-up call.
For as long as I can remember my off-track Thoroughbreds Bear, Fawkes and Moose have been my north star. Just the idea of hearing them nicker, brushing their manes, or scratching that one sweet spot on their necks could carry me through the hardest days. But when that spark started to dim—when the barn felt like a burden instead of a blessing — I knew I had to stop and take stock.
The months that followed weren’t glamorous. My house had gone up in flames, and between hospital stays and healing at home, I cried. I slept. I faced myself—really faced myself. I learned that if I didn’t start living authentically, I wouldn’t be living much longer at all.
Mental health doesn’t just quietly knock. Sometimes it kicks down the door. And for me, breaking all the way down was the first real step to building a life rooted in truth. I had to let go of who I was told to be—who I thought I should be—and begin the work of becoming who I actually am.
There were days I wanted to quit. Days I questioned my worth. But somewhere between the tears and the therapy, the doubt and the deep breaths, I remembered why I started in the first place: because I’ve always had big, bold, unapologetic dreams. And those dreams deserve a version of me who’s whole enough to chase them.
I often think about OTTBs—and how much I see myself in them. They give everything they have to one version of life, and then, one day, they’re expected to begin again. It’s not easy. There’s confusion, pain, and retraining. But there’s also potential. Beauty. Purpose. And if they’re lucky, someone who believes in them through every step of their transition.
That’s how I choose to see myself now. Not broken. Not behind. Just in my post-track era. Taking the reins on both my and my boys’ lives and wellbeing, and boldly striving to embody the majesty and grit that I frequently find myself admiring about the boys.
As we enter Mental Health Awareness Month, I’m choosing to celebrate the messy middle—the part where the healing happens, the part where the courage lives. Whether you’re inbthe saddle or just trying to stay upright, I hope you give yourself the grace to be seen, to be soft, to be real.
Let’s lift each other up. Let’s dare to tell the truth. And above all, let’s keep riding—toward joy, rest and freedom.
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. Are you or someone you know struggling? Find free resources here.
Shaq Blake, also known as @theblackequestrian on social media, is an adult amateur equestrian who climbed back into the saddle after a 20-year break from riding. Read more from her blog here.