As I've said in some of the recent posts, Willig has reverted to being scared of the exit door in the inside arena, and most of my rides for the last week have been (ugh) patiently going past that door. Although I managed to take him on one trail ride last weekend (a spook-fest, in honor of Halloween apparently), the weather hasn't cooperated for either me or J to ride him outside. So when my lesson coincided with only overcast skies (no rain or drizzle) and no downpours in the last 24 hours, I just knew Shannon would suggest we ride outside.
Both Shannon and I could see the "wild look" in Willig's eye, so she had us start on him focusing - with a nice inside bend (and nice is relative, since he was trying mightily to crane his neck for monsters on the outside of the fence) with impulsion. The main theme for this lesson is that I get scared and ride him slower and slower and slower, which makes it easier and easier and easier for him to leap out.
So we did walk/trot/canter both directions, and then Shannon told us to make a big circle and gallop. And she had to keep yelling "Gallop!" because while my leg was receiving the message from my brain, my hands were like "You're insane!" and fought it.
And just as when Shannon took us to NWEC to school and Willig did his rodeo loop, and she made us take off galloping (and redo the fence after each huge loop until he quit being loopy), it got the crazy out of his eye at home too.
He was perfectly nice until the &*#&(&# poodle came out with his human, and like a wild man (our Chinook is a wild lady too, so I get it, it's just that it's ALWAYS a training opportunity when I'm out there and never just riding) raced around in his yard. Willig got the wild look back in his eye, and when he had a particularly difficult time making the transition from canter to trot, Shannon had us halt, canter, and then do another gallop loop. This one was even harder for me to do than the first one, since I was watching him watching the poodle.
Given that, we had some quite nice jumping.
We worked on a bounce, then a double bounce, which Mr. Inconsistent was A-Ok with.
We worked on a vertical over flowers (ho-hum), a blue barrel under a vertical (he was looking, but jumped it each time, although Shannon had us repeat it until it was flawless - the looking was at the barrel (he refused some this summer) and pointed in the direction of the poodle).
Then we made a little course - the three cross rail bounces, right hand turn around to the flower vertical, left hand turn (which was much improved from two lessons ago) to the blue barrels, then big left arc to the wall.
His first time, we both saw it coming from a mile off, and he ran out to the right, and then it took me forever to stop him. I knew it was coming, Shannon knew it was coming, and Willig had every opportunity to keep it coming.
She had us ride back in front of it, halt, and he got one smack with the whip, and then I had to do it again. He did it kind of big, but did it.
Then we did the course a second time, and again, he took it kind of big, but did it. I know he can do it, because when I was working him a lot in the summer, I had him going quite nice over it.
So Shannon's main take away is that I am still not riding assertively enough. She can see him looking, see him thinking about refusing, but I just sit there and do nothing, but keep waiting for him to jump it - even when I feel the refusal coming also.
And he is nervous (and always will be nervous) about things he hasn't seen before (or seen in a while) and I need him to 1) trust me that he can do it, and 2) prefer to do it than face my wrath. Which is almost nonexistent.
We were at a dinner party the night before, and someone who used to ride hunter jumpers was asking me excitedly about having a horse. (I feel the pain of ex-horse riders who live in Seattle.) And as I was talking about him I realized that all this hesitation is coming from me. It's me who's holding us back, and it's because I'm scared. And the more I work without stirrups, the better I feel my position getting, and the more I jump him over big stuff, the more comfortable I feel heading towards it with my feet in front of me. It's just that I don't act fast enough to correct his refusals, and I think once I fix that, he'll stop refusing, and then we'll just improve and improve. So I have to act like he's not going to refuse (assertively, not passively) and be quick to respond, and then we'll be back on our upward spiral.
Overall, as Shannon pointed out, it was a great lesson. He did the bounces incredibly well, he had the wild look in his eye and hadn't been out, last year I couldn't even ride him at the poodle side, and the one run out provided us with an excellent teaching example.
Although I wish he was perfect and easy, this is pretty damn helpful for me becoming a better rider, and I think it also helps him learn to trust me.
Charlie with the long sought after cooler
Spring NWEC 2013 Novice
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Willig was finally naughty in front of Mike
He was lame for J on Monday (his left front frog was hot, but it was an intermittent lameness that was not really obvious, according to her). So Tuesday I had a lesson and got there early so that I could make sure the lameness popped up before my lesson started. We were very, very slowly warming up (I misjudged my timing and had half an hour of riding time before the lesson started) and we were walking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth ad nauseum past the scary door when Willig saw something and bolted. Now, I knew he was looking, but there wasn't long enough of a moment between when he saw the monster and when he started moving for me to feel it and do anything about it.
So we went shooting from one end of the arena towards Mike and his student in the middle of her lesson, I lost my stirrup, was trying to turn him in a circle to stop the bolting, and then he put his head down to start bucking and I was thinking "god dman it - I am NOT going off in front of Mike!" and yanked his head up and it surprised him enough that he kind of sputtered out.
So we finally got a lesson with Mike where we worked on Willig's tiny brain issues. Incredibly, he decided to spend the entire rest of the lesson (and yesterday and today) continuing to be very wary of the monsters that live down there. Towards the end of the lesson - like 2 minutes before we finished - this time with J on her horse and the owner's adorable daughter on her adorable pony - he tried to run again, and Mike agreed that he didn't see it coming at all either.
So we:
Worked on his head to the inside. By putting my inside hand (the direction I want him bent) on my thigh.
Then added using a bit of leg yield to make the turns on the corners (which means beginning to ask a few steps before we get there).
Then inched our way down towards the scary end, moving a bit closer each lap, using the head to the inside and the leg yield to make it past the short scary end.
Then we did a bit of the leg yielding along the walls and a bit of counter canter to show Mike what we worked on since the last lesson (he said much better, but still needs some polishing).
Then he did his second bolty spook (much smaller), and Mike reminded me (for the third time, I think, during the lesson) to:
The second he starts - yank him to the inside, thinking a 5 meter circle before we get going and a 15 meter circle for canter.
Don't yank and clamp, but yank and release. Jerk up and down. Don't let him pull against me, balance on his forehand, and just start barreling.
And try to relax. Talk to him, yell at him, whatever is appropriate, but break his focus on fleeing.
So it was a "good" lesson in the sense that I got more tools for my toolbox on naughty Willig days, and a frustrating lesson in the sense that I like working on the new, fancy, fun stuff with Mike, and riding a bolting horse is not new, fancy, or fun.
So we went shooting from one end of the arena towards Mike and his student in the middle of her lesson, I lost my stirrup, was trying to turn him in a circle to stop the bolting, and then he put his head down to start bucking and I was thinking "god dman it - I am NOT going off in front of Mike!" and yanked his head up and it surprised him enough that he kind of sputtered out.
So we finally got a lesson with Mike where we worked on Willig's tiny brain issues. Incredibly, he decided to spend the entire rest of the lesson (and yesterday and today) continuing to be very wary of the monsters that live down there. Towards the end of the lesson - like 2 minutes before we finished - this time with J on her horse and the owner's adorable daughter on her adorable pony - he tried to run again, and Mike agreed that he didn't see it coming at all either.
So we:
Worked on his head to the inside. By putting my inside hand (the direction I want him bent) on my thigh.
Then added using a bit of leg yield to make the turns on the corners (which means beginning to ask a few steps before we get there).
Then inched our way down towards the scary end, moving a bit closer each lap, using the head to the inside and the leg yield to make it past the short scary end.
Then we did a bit of the leg yielding along the walls and a bit of counter canter to show Mike what we worked on since the last lesson (he said much better, but still needs some polishing).
Then he did his second bolty spook (much smaller), and Mike reminded me (for the third time, I think, during the lesson) to:
The second he starts - yank him to the inside, thinking a 5 meter circle before we get going and a 15 meter circle for canter.
Don't yank and clamp, but yank and release. Jerk up and down. Don't let him pull against me, balance on his forehand, and just start barreling.
And try to relax. Talk to him, yell at him, whatever is appropriate, but break his focus on fleeing.
So it was a "good" lesson in the sense that I got more tools for my toolbox on naughty Willig days, and a frustrating lesson in the sense that I like working on the new, fancy, fun stuff with Mike, and riding a bolting horse is not new, fancy, or fun.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Indoor jump lesson - for weeknights in the winter
I asked Shannon for help with an exercise that I could use for winter weeknights, when it's dark and raining outside, but I don't have time to set up and take down a whole bunch of jumps inside. In addition to the 2/3/4 "corners" of a circle that we've done before, and the line of fences that I use to make a serpentine, she suggested two at angles to make a figure 8.
I also had a lot of flat questions for her. The first thing I noticed, as I do in every lesson, is that she makes me ride so much harder than I ride when I'm on my own. And this is a bit hard to describe, but it's - every second of every step we're focused on doing something and asking for more during the lesson - but alone, we kind of putter around. When I'm alone, it doesn't feel like puttering, it feels like working, but then when I have a lesson, I leave thinking that I'm not working at all when I'm alone (I'm usually out of breath within the first 10 minutes in my lesson).
Next I asked about the canter to trot transition that has been so bumpy, and she suggested (rightly) that I'm probably asking too much for trot and not enough pushing into trot. That cleared it right up.
She also set up a few of the "obstacles" (jump door open, cat on the wall, horse walking by) to make Willig work hard enough that he didn't have a chance to be spooky. (Ha! He's working just as hard as I am in the lesson!)
Then we worked a bit on my lame hand. That right hand is like a death clamp. And so I'd hold the breastplate with my fingers to keep my hands still (which was agony!) and then we put my crop behind my elbows (more agony!). And it was agony because I'm twitchy. I am constantly moving my fingers up and down the reins and letting go and sucking up again and moving them forward and moving them back, and asking him to bend with my hands instead of my legs. And it was absolutely awkward and terrible to ride with my hands being still. It felt like I was in a straightjacket. So I have GOT to work on that. My goodness.
Then we worked on my leg aids (prior post - I put my leg way back to ask, not just ask at the girth) and Shannon demonstrated that a proper canter aid is with your leg back - FROM THE HIP - like scissors - not swinging your heel up from the knee. Which made me wonder, once again, why Willig does anything for me at all. C'mon - a few carrots? Not worth it!
Shannon also pointed out that I "suck up" the reins (the "spider walking") and I should just grab and pull them. That's the way (grab and pull) I used to do it, then I retrained myself to suck up. So it'll be a relief to go back to grab and pull.
She also pointed out that some day, I'll have two different toe positions - one for dressage and one for jumping (which can be a bit pointed out, and is the way my toe likes to ride). But that's a detail that I don't have to worry about just yet.
So after all that, which was super useful but super hard to think about breaking those habits now, we moved to the figure 8.
This went pretty smoothly - we pretty consistently (like 90%) missed the right lead, but pretty consistently (also 90%?) got the left lead. Weird. Oh wait - it's my heavy right hand.
When he's trying to look at other things, Shannon had me make circles and make those transitions sharp and him respond when I ask him to respond.
Then she made the one fence into an oxer and the other into about a 2'8" vertical. Willig jumped both just great, but the vertical - which is close to the maximum height I've ever jumped him - he'd actually get round over, and I came home and told Tom, all dreamy, that he just floats. I've never ridden a horse like him before. When he is actually jumping, and not half-ass going over a fence, it feels like magic. The same when I get everything in dressage just right - it is just an incredible feeling! No wonder people spend the extra bucks on warmbloods. It is divine!
So then we wrapped up with me whining again about how I don't want to ride hopeful again, it's embarrassing, but I just don't see him mentally ready this year. Shannon pointed out that a) I should pick my shows carefully - the jump design varies tremendously; b) I will need to school him a bit, since it's the traveling and the scary outdoors that is hard for him and can only be overcome by time; c) I need to start at hopeful until he's being consistent - no stopping at a pile of poles on the ground, and where I'm comfortable with the fences and not intimidated by them (we were starting to get there at the end of this year); and then d) she thinks if we work hard, he can probably do recognized beginner novice by the end of the season, since there's quite a few derbies at the beginning, and then that weird June gap, and then quite a few recognized shows at the end. Yay! A new goal!
And he was so good. He has come so far in the last year. I'm getting quite fond of him. It's true - having to work way outside my comfort zone, while difficult, has made me really appreciate the progress we've made. I dare say I love him a little bit, and last year I was ready to sell him!
I also had a lot of flat questions for her. The first thing I noticed, as I do in every lesson, is that she makes me ride so much harder than I ride when I'm on my own. And this is a bit hard to describe, but it's - every second of every step we're focused on doing something and asking for more during the lesson - but alone, we kind of putter around. When I'm alone, it doesn't feel like puttering, it feels like working, but then when I have a lesson, I leave thinking that I'm not working at all when I'm alone (I'm usually out of breath within the first 10 minutes in my lesson).
Next I asked about the canter to trot transition that has been so bumpy, and she suggested (rightly) that I'm probably asking too much for trot and not enough pushing into trot. That cleared it right up.
She also set up a few of the "obstacles" (jump door open, cat on the wall, horse walking by) to make Willig work hard enough that he didn't have a chance to be spooky. (Ha! He's working just as hard as I am in the lesson!)
Then we worked a bit on my lame hand. That right hand is like a death clamp. And so I'd hold the breastplate with my fingers to keep my hands still (which was agony!) and then we put my crop behind my elbows (more agony!). And it was agony because I'm twitchy. I am constantly moving my fingers up and down the reins and letting go and sucking up again and moving them forward and moving them back, and asking him to bend with my hands instead of my legs. And it was absolutely awkward and terrible to ride with my hands being still. It felt like I was in a straightjacket. So I have GOT to work on that. My goodness.
Then we worked on my leg aids (prior post - I put my leg way back to ask, not just ask at the girth) and Shannon demonstrated that a proper canter aid is with your leg back - FROM THE HIP - like scissors - not swinging your heel up from the knee. Which made me wonder, once again, why Willig does anything for me at all. C'mon - a few carrots? Not worth it!
Shannon also pointed out that I "suck up" the reins (the "spider walking") and I should just grab and pull them. That's the way (grab and pull) I used to do it, then I retrained myself to suck up. So it'll be a relief to go back to grab and pull.
She also pointed out that some day, I'll have two different toe positions - one for dressage and one for jumping (which can be a bit pointed out, and is the way my toe likes to ride). But that's a detail that I don't have to worry about just yet.
So after all that, which was super useful but super hard to think about breaking those habits now, we moved to the figure 8.
This went pretty smoothly - we pretty consistently (like 90%) missed the right lead, but pretty consistently (also 90%?) got the left lead. Weird. Oh wait - it's my heavy right hand.
When he's trying to look at other things, Shannon had me make circles and make those transitions sharp and him respond when I ask him to respond.
Then she made the one fence into an oxer and the other into about a 2'8" vertical. Willig jumped both just great, but the vertical - which is close to the maximum height I've ever jumped him - he'd actually get round over, and I came home and told Tom, all dreamy, that he just floats. I've never ridden a horse like him before. When he is actually jumping, and not half-ass going over a fence, it feels like magic. The same when I get everything in dressage just right - it is just an incredible feeling! No wonder people spend the extra bucks on warmbloods. It is divine!
So then we wrapped up with me whining again about how I don't want to ride hopeful again, it's embarrassing, but I just don't see him mentally ready this year. Shannon pointed out that a) I should pick my shows carefully - the jump design varies tremendously; b) I will need to school him a bit, since it's the traveling and the scary outdoors that is hard for him and can only be overcome by time; c) I need to start at hopeful until he's being consistent - no stopping at a pile of poles on the ground, and where I'm comfortable with the fences and not intimidated by them (we were starting to get there at the end of this year); and then d) she thinks if we work hard, he can probably do recognized beginner novice by the end of the season, since there's quite a few derbies at the beginning, and then that weird June gap, and then quite a few recognized shows at the end. Yay! A new goal!
And he was so good. He has come so far in the last year. I'm getting quite fond of him. It's true - having to work way outside my comfort zone, while difficult, has made me really appreciate the progress we've made. I dare say I love him a little bit, and last year I was ready to sell him!
Tidbits
Last weekend, I was out of town for our "anniversary", and the Pony Club kids had Halloween at our barn. Apparently, a few of the horses with a front seat view of the costumes got a little spooked, and so the spookiness rippled through the paddocks. Willig was spooking spectacularly, putting on a little show apparently, and eventually, after what I heard were several very acrobatic bucks and rears ... fell down. At least five different people told me about it, and every one of them laughed at the poor goof. I didn't know when I saw him the next day, and fortunately, he was just fine.
So fine, in fact, that we had a breakthrough. Willig has been scared of deer, and whenever he's in a turnout (with me, again, ever since he lost his grass privileges), he runs and tears up and acts like the world is ending if there's a deer anywhere in his line of vision. I was waiting for the farrier Tuesday, and put him in a grass turnout without looking first for deer, and sure enough, there was one enjoying brunch. So I thought I'd scare it off while Willig was distracted on the other side of the turnout, and went marching towards it. Another deer, one growing in some antlers (or whatever they're called for deer), popped out from behind a tree, and then faced off with me. It stomped towards me! I was still planning on scaring them both off, but then I heard Willig see it behind me - because he started his racing back and forth. I kept going towards the deer, the deer kept coming towards me, and then suddenly, I heard Willig coming towards me. What I thought was "oh, great, he's about to kill me kicking as he runs past, scared out of his mind" and he did run past me, but not kicking. He was obviously nervous, but he was headed ... at the deer! He zigged and zagged, not really wanting to go towards the deer, and the deer stood his ground, and it was all terribly exciting, and then the deer caved, and Willig, triumphantly, chased it over the fence. He was so triumphant, that he did a celebratory lap, and then came by me, stopped so I could pat him on the neck, and then ate grass.
Let me point this out more succinctly: Willig, the biggest 'fraidy cat I have ever known, just protected me from a vicious, attacking deer! And then acted cool.
Obviously, he knew I was going to hear about how he fell down being a nut, and had to redeem himself in some way.
In riding news, I have been working on our "30 laps" of the leg yield along the wall, and as I go along our long mirror, I have noticed that I tend to move my leg back - WAY back - each time I ask for an aid - ANY aid. So when I'm working in slow motion on leg yield, it actually really helps me to focus on the details, which I had never even noticed before: keeping my foot near the girth, asking only when his hind leg is already moving, keeping my outside rein steady and constant, and not twisting my shoulders/hips. When I canter, and I now think about twisting my shoulders to the outside, it actually makes my inside hip (the lead I want him to pick up) feel like it lifts.
This is all so cool. And he's so patient about it!
Oh yeah, and yesterday he got his fall flu/rhino. Shannon thinks his nose "sunburn" might be a fungus, so the last two days I've put his iodine shampoo on it, and I got him some fungus ointment today to try this week. I think he's had the "sunburn" patch since August or maybe even July.
So fine, in fact, that we had a breakthrough. Willig has been scared of deer, and whenever he's in a turnout (with me, again, ever since he lost his grass privileges), he runs and tears up and acts like the world is ending if there's a deer anywhere in his line of vision. I was waiting for the farrier Tuesday, and put him in a grass turnout without looking first for deer, and sure enough, there was one enjoying brunch. So I thought I'd scare it off while Willig was distracted on the other side of the turnout, and went marching towards it. Another deer, one growing in some antlers (or whatever they're called for deer), popped out from behind a tree, and then faced off with me. It stomped towards me! I was still planning on scaring them both off, but then I heard Willig see it behind me - because he started his racing back and forth. I kept going towards the deer, the deer kept coming towards me, and then suddenly, I heard Willig coming towards me. What I thought was "oh, great, he's about to kill me kicking as he runs past, scared out of his mind" and he did run past me, but not kicking. He was obviously nervous, but he was headed ... at the deer! He zigged and zagged, not really wanting to go towards the deer, and the deer stood his ground, and it was all terribly exciting, and then the deer caved, and Willig, triumphantly, chased it over the fence. He was so triumphant, that he did a celebratory lap, and then came by me, stopped so I could pat him on the neck, and then ate grass.
Let me point this out more succinctly: Willig, the biggest 'fraidy cat I have ever known, just protected me from a vicious, attacking deer! And then acted cool.
Obviously, he knew I was going to hear about how he fell down being a nut, and had to redeem himself in some way.
In riding news, I have been working on our "30 laps" of the leg yield along the wall, and as I go along our long mirror, I have noticed that I tend to move my leg back - WAY back - each time I ask for an aid - ANY aid. So when I'm working in slow motion on leg yield, it actually really helps me to focus on the details, which I had never even noticed before: keeping my foot near the girth, asking only when his hind leg is already moving, keeping my outside rein steady and constant, and not twisting my shoulders/hips. When I canter, and I now think about twisting my shoulders to the outside, it actually makes my inside hip (the lead I want him to pick up) feel like it lifts.
This is all so cool. And he's so patient about it!
Oh yeah, and yesterday he got his fall flu/rhino. Shannon thinks his nose "sunburn" might be a fungus, so the last two days I've put his iodine shampoo on it, and I got him some fungus ointment today to try this week. I think he's had the "sunburn" patch since August or maybe even July.
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