COMPANION PASS: Paige Lawrence Champion

Hi! My name is Paige Lawrence Champion. I’m a newly retired Olympic Figure Skater (Sochi Winter Olympics, 2014), an Executive Performance Coach (check out www.paigelawrencecoaching.com if you’re curious) and I’m married to Richmond Champion… or rather, he’s married to me!

People ask me what it’s like being married to a professional cowboy. The answer is - and I think I can speak for most rodeo wives and girlfriends when I say this- is that it's amazing. It’s awesome; its complex. It’s everything. The highs are high, and the lows are low.  

The moments when you actually get to be “there” (wherever “there” may be) for your cowboy’s big win is exhilarating. The lonely nights, however, -and there are a lot of them- can be overwhelming and the calls when things aren’t going well are heart-wrenching.

But… honestly? I consider myself very lucky. Not only have I experienced the single-minded pursuit of a passion and the fulfillment of a dream when I trained for and competed at the Olympics, but I’m doubly blessed because I get to see the human I love also pursue his passion and live out his dream.  It’s magic. To be alongside Richmond as he lives a life with passion and purpose makes every up and down worth it.

I love watching Richmond compete. Always have, always will.  I marvel at the athleticism of what he does on a horse, I applaud his approach to competition, and I respect his willingness to improve his craft.  From his mental game, to diet, to technique, to sport specific training, he’s always trying to improve. I admire Richmond and I am honored to be his wife and partner through this journey and life.

BUT...

One of the things I admire most in this world is authenticity- the ability to be genuine, real and true- so, I’m going to be completely honest with you. I was uncomfortable with being labelled “Richmond Champion’s girlfriend/wife”. Not because of who he is- but because of who I am.  

I have worked incredibly hard for the things that I have accomplished. Through blood, sweat, tears, skating in an ice-cold rink at -40F, cuss words (hell, I’m not perfect), failures, wrong directions, do-overs and second chances, I have built the person that I am...  and I am damn proud of who I have become.

So, at first, when I started dating Richmond and coming around the rodeo scene as his +1, it chaffed me to simply be known as “Richie’s girlfriend”.   As much as I loved being his girlfriend, it felt contradictory to my lifetime of hard work to “only” be known for being the person who dated Richmond Champion. I am more than simply a + 1, and I wanted to keep my identity. 

I can remember attending my first NFR with Richmond and feeling out of place.  At an event of that precedence, I was used to being the competitor; I was used to being the one performing; I was used to being the one with the support team, and although it may sound egotistical to you (I already admitted to being imperfect), I was used to having my merit be based off of my own accomplishments.  

But at that first NFR, I was simply Richmond’s girlfriend. And although this was an amazing experience- to be in the stands each night, cheering my heart out for him while he excelled at his sport-  it was humbling as well. I wasn’t the competitor; I had no power to influence the outcome of events. It made me feel vulnerable in a way that I wasn’t used to!

I had to learn how to show up as the best support system possible for Richmond; whether it be a shoulder to lean on, an open ear to vent to, a mentor to ask advice from or a kick in the ass when he needs it. I learned to be whatever Richmond (knowingly or unknowingly) needed.  And surprisingly, because of this, I’ve found a quiet strength and confidence in myself and our relationship.

But on top of that, my first NFR experience with Richmond forced me to come to terms with a new piece of my identity, one that I had been struggling with long before I dated Richmond:  that I was a retired athlete. 

I cried on the drive back to Texas from Vegas that year.  Not the drama-filled sobbing that occurs simply to get attention, but the quiet, ugly tears that leak out while you stare out the window hoping no one will notice.  I wept. I genuinely mourned and grieved over the fact that it would never be me standing at centre ice, with a crowd full of people watching me do the one thing in life that I was trained to excel at. I missed the feeling.  I missed the person who I was when I was on the ice. Until that moment, I had never really let myself grieve the loss of that piece of my identity... but as I talked through all of this with Richmond on that drive, (who must have had an eyelash in one of his eyes at that moment as well) I found a peace within me because of Richmond.  A simple and steady acceptance of all that I was and all that I am.  

I may never be an Olympic figure skater again (and to be honest, this body is too damn old for that shit) but I will be other things.  A career woman. A wife. Hopefully a mama... but what I took away from that experience is that no matter who I am to anyone else, to Richmond and myself- I am me.  All of me.  And that is enough.  My identity isn’t determined by how anyone else views me.

I am still a competitor (put me in the ring and I will always bet on myself) but I have also become confident in my ability to be a support system.  The same can be said for Richmond. We fiercely support each other’s dreams, passions, and goals; we challenge each other, we applaud each other, we high-five over the good moments and hug out the bad; I hold him accountable for what he is capable of and he does the same for me.  We’re a team.

We are individuals who are both chasing our dreams and creating our lives, while simultaneously coming together to accomplish so much more than we ever could alone. And although my story up until this point is different than anyone else’s, I do believe this is the norm in most rodeo relationships.  You may only see one half of the equation in the arena, excelling at what he/she does, but I would guess that there is an ambitious, self-sufficient, and tough-as-nails second half sitting in the stands or back at home, working on their own goals. I would guess that whoever you see in the arena, is motivated to be out there not only for his/her own goals, but for the betterment of their team.  I know that’s how Richmond and I are. 

I still correct people when they introduce me as “Richmond Champion’s wife” by jokingly telling them “he’s married to me”, but regardless of how you word it, I am damn lucky to have him in my life.