Triple Trouble: Hustle Beats Talent (But Sometimes It Doesn’t Feel Like It)

Marcella Gruchalak, Comments Off on Triple Trouble: Hustle Beats Talent (But Sometimes It Doesn’t Feel Like It)
We’ve all heard the saying: “Hustle beats talent when talent doesn’t hustle.”… It makes us want to slide on our boots, tighten our cinch, and get out there. But, if I’m being 100% transparent, sometimes it feels like talent still just beats you.

We’ve all heard the saying: “Hustle beats talent when talent doesn’t hustle.” It’s one of those motivational quotes you see slapped across an Instagram reel with epic background music and a slow-motion clip of someone sweating in a gym. And sure, it sounds great. It makes us want to slide on our boots, tighten our cinch, and get out there. But, if I’m being 100% transparent, sometimes it feels like talent still just beats you.

Many of us are out there riding every day. Rain or shine. Tired or sore. After work when our bodies say to put on our jammies and catch up on shows. We’re practicing our transitions, fine-tuning our patterns, and working through our horse’s sticky spots. We’re hustling, no question. Then comes the horse show.

And who trots into the arena? The competitor who says, oh-so-casually, “Yeah, I just pulled my horse out of the pasture this morning. Haven’t ridden him in weeks.” Then they go out there, lay down a near-flawless run, and suddenly you’re sitting there in a placing you didn’t exactly envision when you were practicing all month. Again.

Hot Sauce and me at the 2025 CMSA Derby after having a great showing and still finishing in the bottom half. Photo by Arden Sloan

It’s frustrating. Actually, it’s infuriating. You’ve been hustling your tail off, pouring every ounce of energy into improvement, and here comes talent, galloping out of a pasture, shaking off the dust, and still beating you. It feels like one giant slap in the face from the universe.

And that’s when the mental spiral begins. You load up the trailer thinking, “Why am I doing this?” You put on that motivational podcast you’ve got bookmarked, and hope it’ll talk you off the ledge of quitting.

But instead of feeling inspired, sometimes it just stings. Because the podcaster says, “Your time is coming. You just have to keep grinding.” And you’re thinking, “My time has been coming for about four years now — maybe I really don’t have it.” Still, you keep trying, because somewhere in the back of your mind, that quote lingers: Hustle beats talent when talent doesn’t hustle.

Photo of us competing and losing all season at the East Coast Outlaws. Photo by Valerie Ray Kunes.

Here’s the thing about talent: it’s real. Some people just have “it.” The feel. The timing. The instinct. They swing a leg over their horse after weeks away and their body just knows what to do. And yes, sometimes it seems wildly unfair. But here’s what’s easy to forget when you’re stuck in your frustration: talent might get them in the winner’s circle once, twice, even a dozen times, but hustle is what keeps people there.

Talent can coast for a little while. But hustle, the unglamorous daily rides, builds the kind of foundation that lasts. Hustle sharpens your skills, strengthens your horse, builds your confidence, and carries you through seasons when talent alone won’t cut it. It doesn’t feel fair in the moment, but long term? Hustle is what sticks.

Yet another photo of us losing at the 2025 New York State Championship. Photo by Tim Franks

Still, knowing that doesn’t mean the journey feels any easier. Being an equestrian is an emotional rollercoaster. Here are the phases I feel like I’ve gone through:

  • The Excitement Phase: You head into the week telling yourself this is it. You’ve been practicing, you feel connected to your horse, and this show is yours.

  • The Reality Check Phase: You watch your “pasture puller” competitor nail their pattern and start wondering if you should try turning your horse out in a field for three weeks and see if that’s the secret.

  • The Self-Doubt Phase: You second-guess every ride, every decision, every penny you’ve spent on lessons, supplements, and that fancy new shirt that was supposed to change your luck.

  • The Recommitment Phase: After the pity party, you tell yourself it’s back to work. Because winners aren’t made on the easy days — they’re made on the frustrating ones.

Continuing to smile through the losses because if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry. Photo by Kamille Huff

Sometimes the only way to survive this cycle is to laugh at it, because horses really have a way of humbling us all — talented or not. We’ve all been out there, spending weeks perfecting maneuvers that go to $h!t the second we begin our performance. We clean our tack, groom our horse, and get everything picture-perfect, only to discover we’re just not as great as we thought we were after putting the time in. We psych ourselves up with motivational quotes, only to realize our horses don’t care about hustle or talent. They care about whether or not we’re feeding them on time. When we take all of it too seriously, it’ll break our spirits — but laughing at the madness is what will keep us going.

Photo of us trotting a pattern because we blew it so bad in the run before this one. Photo by Michael Whitt

All those hours in the saddle, all those days when you show up even though you don’t feel like it, all those small, invisible wins, they matter. Hustle teaches you discipline. Hustle teaches your horse consistency. Hustle teaches you resilience.

One day, it will be your name being called for winning and it won’t just be luck. It’ll be the culmination of every tear, every frustrating ride, every podcast you forced yourself to listen to when you were ready to quit. When talent fizzles out — and it eventually does — it’s those who hustle who keep shining.

If you’re going to continue to lose, you may as well look good doing it. Photo by Genevieve Burnett Photography

If you’re reading this and thinking, “That’s me. I’m hustling and hustling, but my bank account or prizes don’t show it,” you’re not alone. Every single rider has been there, no matter how shiny their trophy case looks today. Hustle doesn’t give you instant gratification. It gives you grit, character, and the quiet satisfaction of knowing you’re not waiting for things to click — you’re working to make them click.

Keep hustling. Keep showing up. Keep laughing when your performance embarrasses you — and keep brushing off the sting when the pasture-pulled prodigy beats you again. Your moment is coming. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow. But it will come. And when it does, it’s going to mean more than you can imagine.

Hopefully we start winning. Photo by Tim Franks

“Hustle beats talent when talent doesn’t hustle.” It’s true, but it’s also not the whole story. Hustle doesn’t always beat talent in the moment, and that’s why it feels so unfair. But hustle always wins in the long run, because hustle builds the kind of rider who doesn’t just get lucky once but stays competitive for life.

The next time you’re sitting in the trailer after another long, humbling show day, crying because once again, you blew it, remember: hustle hasn’t let you down. Hustle is building you. Hustle is the reason your time will come. And when it does, you’ll be glad you hustled.