Aged 8 my ambition was to ride for Great Britain at the Olympics, clearing the last fence with seconds to go and bringing home gold to the screaming crowd. It never quite happened, but when I received tickets for the Cross Country at the London Olympics it was like Christmas had come again.

I decided that if I wasn’t in the GB team with Zara, William, Pippa, Mary and Tina then I would do the next best thing to support them – I would go to the X Country in full riding gear. Genius and hilarious at the same I time I thought. Surely many others will be doing the same? As it turned out, apparently not.

That morning I donned my snow white jodhpurs and polished riding boots and looked worthy of a rosette. An hour later I discovered that out of 50,000 other spectators I was the only one in riding gear. Staring down the barrel of fancy dress adversity I decided to stand firm, pull down my shades and ideally I needed to find a spare horse. The effects were immediate and as soon as I entered the ground people pointed and muttered to each other trying to work out if I was genuine rider, “are you Zara?” one Spanish lady asked and a small child wished me luck. I thanked him and strode off in the direction of the water jump.

Once the day was over and team GB had been cheered to silver, we walked the course. Stumbling across an empty stretch the temptation was too much, my mother and I looked at each other then “galloped” towards it as if I was 8 again.  We often let go of childhood dreams , but sometimes it’s still possible to make them happen, just in a different way and allowing ourselves to being different to everyone else.

Words and photos by Kitty Buchanan-Gregory