I never expected GMI to make him jump higher or run faster. I wanted something much simpler: for him to stay healthy enough to do what he was already capable of doing.
He began show jumping at eight, with no foundation and no guarantees. Nearly ten years later, the ordinary details of his daily life tell as much as any result.
By Charlene Hseu（中文版）
Fully focused before the competition. Photo: Charlene Hseu
Ten years is long enough to complete a research project or build a company. I have spent mine watching one horse make his way through a competitive career. Looking back, I have come to realize that some questions cannot be answered by a single result. They need time.
Nearly ten years ago, I made a decision for which there was no precedent to follow. There was no long-term data and no previous case that I could use as a model. No one knew whether that decision would suit a sport horse in daily training and regular competition, or what it might mean many years later. I had only my own judgement and the observations that came from being with him every day.
He is the world’s first sport horse to receive GMI as part of his long-term health management. But that is not what I remember most clearly. Instead, I remember the everyday details: whether he finished his feed, whether he stayed bright and energetic through the summer, and how well he recovered after training.
After each competition, I watched to see whether he returned to training with the same energy and willingness. A sport horse’s life is not confined to the moments spent in the arena or on the podium. Most of it takes place away from the audience, in the routines repeated every day of the year. One exceptional round may produce a result, but it is the work between competitions—training, care, recovery and health management—that determines how long a sporting career can last.
Post-competition physical therapy to help him recover. Photo: Charlene Hseu
Whenever I introduce him as the first sport horse to have GMI included in his health management, the same questions usually follow. “Why did you choose GMI?” “What difference does it make?” “Is that why he jumps so well?”
My answer has always been the same. I did not choose GMI in pursuit of better results, nor did I expect it to give him an athletic ability he did not already possess. A sport horse’s performance is the product of many things: breeding, training, health management, veterinary care, nutrition, equipment, natural ability and physical condition on the day. No single element can produce the final result by itself.
The question I wanted to answer was different. If his health was managed carefully and consistently, could he maintain a sound body for longer over the course of a demanding sporting career?
From the outset, GMI was never treated as a performance enhancer. It became one part of a wider routine that included training, nutrition, daily care and regular veterinary examinations. I wanted to see what that routine would mean for this particular horse over the long term. Almost ten years later, what matters is not simply what I chose to give him, but what I have observed over the years.
GMI, short for Ganoderma microsporum immunomodulatory protein, belongs to a group known as fungal immunomodulatory proteins, or FIPs. Published studies indicate that its role is not simply to “boost” the immune system. GMI has been observed to regulate immune responses and affect pathways associated with inflammation and oxidative stress, processes that are closely linked to the maintenance of physiological balance.
For a sport horse, the challenge is not simply to perform at a high level on a single day. Training, competition, long-distance transport, and changes in weather and surroundings all place repeated demands on the body. Over time, these demands can affect inflammatory responses, immune regulation, and the ability to recover.
That was why GMI interested me. I was not looking for something that would make a horse faster or more powerful. I wanted to know whether its biological activity could serve a useful role within the long-term health management of a sport horse. There was no answer yet, so I left the question open and kept watching.
He was born in Hokkaido on 29 April 2011 and was bred to be a racehorse. The last race record I have been able to trace is from Tokyo Racecourse on 29 October 2016. I met him just over three months later.
He was five years old, extremely thin and unkempt, with marks on his right foreleg from previous treatment for a splint. It was difficult to reconcile the horse in front of me with the fact that he had been racing only a few months earlier.
When I first met him. Photo: Charlene Hseu
Leaving racing meant learning an entirely different way of using his body. He did not understand the basic ridden aids for walk, trot or canter, nor did he know how to shorten his stride or adjust his pace in response to a rider. Racing had trained him for quick responses, speed, and close coordination with a rider under the specific demands of the sport. His new role required a different kind of balance and communication: he had to wait, adjust his stride and pace, and respond to a new set of aids. He also had to become accustomed to unfamiliar sounds, objects, and surroundings.
Competition was not our first goal. First, I wanted to help him regain his strength and overall condition. Then we could begin again, one basic lesson at a time. He began taking GMI on 18 March 2017. Around the same time, his life gradually moved away from the familiar world of racing and onto a different path.
His first jumping competition came in March 2019. It was a small in-house competition at our riding club, with classes over cross-poles and 50-centimeter fences. Such fences are normally considered suitable for beginners and are routinely used in training and warm-ups. For him, however, even that was a considerable challenge.
He was tense from the moment he entered the arena, distracted by every unfamiliar sound and movement around him. Still, he made it to the finish. There was no placing, yet I remember that round more clearly than many of the results that came later.
In August of the same year, I moved him to a club specializing in show jumping so that he could receive more focused training and care. After watching him in training, his new trainer said, “When it comes to show jumping, he’s a blank slate.”
The comment stayed with me because he was already eight years old—an age by which many show-jumping horses have developed a solid foundation and begun building a serious competition record. He was only just beginning.
Three months after moving to the new club, he entered his first competition with them. In January 2020, he competed at 80 and 100 centimeters in the Hyogo New Year Equestrian Competition and finished near the bottom in both classes. Soon afterward, the COVID-19 pandemic brought equestrian competitions across Japan to a halt.
His first training session with the head coach after moving to a new riding club. Photo: Charlene Hseu
He did not enter his first Japan Equestrian Federation-recognized show-jumping competition until March 2021. That season, he finished 299th in the national rankings for Medium Class D, or MD, a division with fences set at approximately 110 centimeters. He rose to 148th in 2022 and then to 28th in 2023.
Nothing dramatic happened between those numbers. He simply kept competing. At each new venue, he learned to settle more quickly. Every clear round, every mistake and every difficult moment added another piece to his experience.
The horse who had once hesitated over 50-centimeter fences gradually learned to enter unfamiliar arenas and complete his own round with composure.
In May 2023, he finished fifth out of more than 70 horse-and-rider combinations in the MD (110 cm) division at the 50th Kinki Equestrian Championships. It was the first ribbon he had ever won.
To qualify for the All-Japan Equestrian Championships, he maintained a demanding competition schedule throughout 2023, traveling to events outside the Kansai region along the way. That September, at the age of twelve, he made the long journey to Hokkaido, where the All-Japan Equestrian Championships were held that year. In his first appearance at the event, he finished fourth in the MD (110 cm) qualifying round and advanced to the final.
Year after year, through summer heat, winter cold, rain, and sunshine, he has given his all every time he steps into the arena. Photo: Charlene Hseu
After the All-Japan Equestrian Championships, I did not immediately begin chasing the next result. A demanding competition schedule, combined with the long trip to Hokkaido and back, had been physically taxing for him. In 2024, he entered only a small number of competitions.
He continued to exercise enough to maintain his fitness, but the priority for the rest of the year was recovery. This was a deliberate reduction in competition, not a decision forced by injury or illness. In fact, since he came into my care, he has never suffered an injury or become ill, nor has he ever needed an extended break from training.
Some horses become unwell after long-distance transport and may even require intravenous fluids to recover. He, however, has always arrived with his usual appetite and energy. That long-term stability is one of the reasons I have continued to include GMI in his health-management program since 2017.
After a relatively quiet 2024, he moved up to Medium Class C, or MC, in 2025, competing over fences set at approximately 120 centimeters. In May, he finished third in the MC (120 cm) division at the 52nd Kinki Equestrian Championships. It was his first top-three finish and his first medal.
He qualified for the All-Japan Equestrian Championships again that year, but the event was scheduled for the height of summer. After considering the extreme heat and the demands of long-distance travel, I decided not to enter him.
Qualification had already shown that he was capable of competing at that level. Whether he actually needed to do so was a different question. No single competition mattered more to me than keeping him healthy enough to continue.
Back in his stall after the competition, enjoying some well-earned downtime. Photo: Charlene Hseu
In 2026, at age fifteen, he began competing regularly in both MC and Medium Class B, or MB, with fences in the latter division set at approximately 130 centimeters.
Qualification for the Japanese-Bred Horse Jumping Competition at the All-Japan Equestrian Championships is not based on annual ranking points alone. The horse must be registered with the Japan Equestrian Federation as Japanese-bred. Within the designated qualification period, the same horse-and-rider combination must also complete at least two eligible MB (130 cm) competitions at JEF-recognized events.
For a fifteen-year-old sport horse, meeting those requirements involved much more than adding a few dates to the competition calendar. He had to remain fit and sound enough to jump courses between 120 and 130 centimeters throughout the season. Only after each requirement had been met did he earn his place in the Japanese-Bred Horse Jumping Competition.
On 18 July 2026, he made his first appearance in the Japanese-Bred Horse Jumping Competition at the All-Japan Equestrian Championships 2026, Jumping Part II. The course was set at 125 centimeters. He finished nineteenth in the qualifier and advanced to the final.
The following day, he placed ninth. He brought home his first ribbon from a final at the All-Japan Equestrian Championships and joined the Winning Run, a lap of honor for the top-finishing horse-and-rider combinations.
He was eight years old when his trainer called him a blank slate in show jumping. Seven years had passed since then. At fifteen, he was among the placed horses at the All-Japan Equestrian Championships.
July 19, 2026 — Japanese-Bred Horse Jumping Competition Final, All-Japan Equestrian Championships 2026, Jumping Part II. Photo: Charlene Hseu
Seen only as a result, the entire journey could be reduced to one number: ninth place. But the result does not show that he began without knowing how to respond to even the most basic riding aids. It does not show how frightened he was during his first competition, or the periods of rest that allowed him to recover after demanding seasons. Those details never appear in the rankings, yet they are what made the result possible.
At fifteen, he is still healthy and still competing. For me, that is the most important record of all.
Sport horses are honest about their physical condition. Wanting a good performance does not make a horse healthy overnight, and yesterday’s result does not erase today’s fatigue. The truth appears in ordinary signs: appetite, energy, willingness to train and the time needed to recover.
Studies in cells and animal models have identified effects of GMI on pathways associated with immune regulation, inflammation and oxidative stress. Other research has found that it can promote the differentiation of muscle cells. These findings provide a scientific basis for the mechanism that first interested me nearly ten years ago.
Since 18 March 2017, GMI has remained part of his health management throughout his transition from retired racehorse to show jumper. It has been there through daily training, repeated competitions and long-distance travel.
Over those years, he has never required prolonged rest because of injury or illness, nor has he developed post-travel problems requiring special treatment. At fifteen, he remains capable of competing at MC (120 cm) and MB (130 cm) level and has completed both the qualifier and final at the All-Japan Equestrian Championships.
No supplement can manage a sport horse’s health by itself. Training, nutrition, rest, veterinary care, farriery, physiotherapy and daily observation all matter. Within that complete system, GMI has remained a consistent part of his routine for almost ten years.
It did not make him suddenly jump higher or run faster. Its value can be seen over a much longer span: in a body that has remained capable of training, traveling, recovering and competing year after year.
GMI did not complete a single round for him. But he has remained healthy enough to complete every one of them himself.
For me, that is the clearest answer time could have given.
I have been by his side throughout his competitive career, and through every ordinary season along the way. Photo: Charlene Hseu
Before leaving for the All-Japan Equestrian Championships, I visited Kamigamo Shrine to pray for him. The fortune slip I drew was marked chūkichi—Japanese for “moderately good fortune”—and contained one line that stayed with me:
“With thorough preparation will come results, great joy and an unexpected discovery.”
At the time, I assumed that “results” meant the competition and “joy” meant a placing. It was only after the championships, when I took out the fortune again, that I understood it differently.
The result was not simply ninth place. The unexpected discovery came when I looked back over the road behind us and realized that the question I had left to time nearly ten years ago had finally been answered.
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