Charlie with the long sought after cooler
Spring NWEC 2013 Novice
Monday, December 26, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Frisky George Lesson
On Thursday (I'm four days late, so I've lost most of the details) I had a lesson on frisky George. (He was still frisky Friday and then super frisky Saturday, and even Prince was frisky on Saturday.) Because George shares a lot of personality characteristics with Willig, this was a great learning lesson. We did a lot of "attention" work on a 20 meter circle to help him focus on working and not looking for something to act up about for about 15 minutes or so while I rode the frisky out of him. (Saturday I couldn't do that, but it worked on Friday and is what I've been doing with Willig instead of lunging.)
The eureka moment in this lesson was trot to canter transitions that were perfectly "smooth". No speed up, no slow down. To obtain it, I lost the "jump" up into canter with the shoulders, but it was really, really cool to be trotting and then one step later just as smooth as silk be cantering.
I also got a better feel on what my body is doing when I "suck up" the trot and canter (slows down the cadence and adds the "jump" and moment of suspension in the gaits). It's lower back and inner thigh and a bit of abs and outer thigh. But this was the first time I could kind of identify what my body was doing when I asked him to "suck up".
We also worked on teaching him piaffe and passage, Mike running alongside.
We continued to work on "powering up" the trot by collecting him (my version of collection) for a few strides, then lengthening for a few strides, then collecting, etc.
Although it's in inches rather than feet, I feel like we're still making a lot of progress. The vet visit to check on Willig is Thursday, so I have my fingers crossed he'll get back to work. I actually miss riding him.
The eureka moment in this lesson was trot to canter transitions that were perfectly "smooth". No speed up, no slow down. To obtain it, I lost the "jump" up into canter with the shoulders, but it was really, really cool to be trotting and then one step later just as smooth as silk be cantering.
I also got a better feel on what my body is doing when I "suck up" the trot and canter (slows down the cadence and adds the "jump" and moment of suspension in the gaits). It's lower back and inner thigh and a bit of abs and outer thigh. But this was the first time I could kind of identify what my body was doing when I asked him to "suck up".
We also worked on teaching him piaffe and passage, Mike running alongside.
We continued to work on "powering up" the trot by collecting him (my version of collection) for a few strides, then lengthening for a few strides, then collecting, etc.
Although it's in inches rather than feet, I feel like we're still making a lot of progress. The vet visit to check on Willig is Thursday, so I have my fingers crossed he'll get back to work. I actually miss riding him.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Baby Piaffe and Passage
I had a dressage lesson on George today (still trying to get Willig sound in the slowest, most noncommittal approach ever), and a mini lesson on Falada.
For my before shot, I'm a dried up husk of dessicated sponge. For my after shot, I'm so full of liquid (information) that I'm dripping. And that was like, maybe absorbing 20% (at best) of what Mike was telling me.
Let's start with the things I still need to fix:
- My gripping legs - they're like cling-ons that never let go. Like how horses can sleep standing up, I have to think "relax" to make my legs ungrip. Invariably, if I check in with them (regardless of what is going on) they're gripping.
- Tone my middle. I'm doing more and more with my seat and it's connected parts, and I can't be flopping around loosey goosey.
- Watch my right side. Something funky is going on again (or it's just that this stuff is new and it's dominant) but I had a hard time with it overworking everything today. I also had, perhaps related, a hard time getting all three horses to canter. I think my hips are tight and I can't swing my leg far enough back, but I'm not sure what to do to work at home on that "leg back from the hip joint" feel.
So to start out with a bang, here's baby piaffe and passage:
Piaffe is stepping up and down in place, passage is lifting up and down. Piaffe comes out of the back legs while passage is elevating the front legs. I always thought they were two sides of the coin (I guess they are) but I hadn't appreciated these distinctions.
To teach a horse piaffe, you lean forward ever so slightly, slightly lift your hands, and put both legs back and do a whispery-fluttery aid. The person on the ground uses the stick to tap their hind legs, and when the horse starts the movement, it feels like he's crouching down. You just do a few steps then stop and reward. You do it out of walk, not halt.
For passage, you lean back, but then lift your hands and put both legs back with the fluttery aid, and also - I don't know how to describe this - suck up with your seat. The person on the ground uses the stick on the horse's front legs. This one feels like they're stepping over trot poles.
So this was really, really cool.
Then we took that feeling, and worked on the trot (slower) and when I thought piaffe, George would get light in my hands also. And if we did it really, really well and all the stars aligned, I could feel the moment of lift that we added.
Then later we took the feeling from passage, and used it with OPEN HIPS to extend the trot. This was the same thing I did with Falada after Mike rode her a few (?) rides ago, where she felt like she sat back, lifted her front end up in the air, and then shot forward like a rocket. We got a baby feeling of this with George.
We also worked on canter, taking the piaffe, and walking, doing a few half steps (thinking piaffe), walking, repeat a few times, and then cantering a few strides on a 10 meter circle, and then thinking 1-2-3 [trot/walk/halt]. I had been trying to ride Falada with halts from behind earlier, and this exercise also really helped with that.
Mike's goal is that the exercises we did today are how I will exercise George, Falada, and to a slightly lesser degree Prince, from now on. These exhausted my legs, made me pour sweat, and were exhilirating. The hard part is I don't even know how to describe what happened, and without being able to describe it, I feel like I can't repeat it. It's like it's squirming always just out of my grasp - every once in a while I get it with the tips of my fingers, and then it slithers away again. I definitely feel it when it's right, but I don't quite know what I'm doing with my body to make it right.
But I am definitely going to keep working on this, because I think the world is going to open up when I finally catch on. And my being nice to myself is that in the two years (ish) I've been riding with Mike and Shannon, I have made SO much progress as a rider. Yes, I regret I didn't have the opportunity to ride with this level of instruction from the very beginning (I might actually be good by now), but I'm grateful to at least have it now, and not go my whole life without learning this.
For my before shot, I'm a dried up husk of dessicated sponge. For my after shot, I'm so full of liquid (information) that I'm dripping. And that was like, maybe absorbing 20% (at best) of what Mike was telling me.
Let's start with the things I still need to fix:
- My gripping legs - they're like cling-ons that never let go. Like how horses can sleep standing up, I have to think "relax" to make my legs ungrip. Invariably, if I check in with them (regardless of what is going on) they're gripping.
- Tone my middle. I'm doing more and more with my seat and it's connected parts, and I can't be flopping around loosey goosey.
- Watch my right side. Something funky is going on again (or it's just that this stuff is new and it's dominant) but I had a hard time with it overworking everything today. I also had, perhaps related, a hard time getting all three horses to canter. I think my hips are tight and I can't swing my leg far enough back, but I'm not sure what to do to work at home on that "leg back from the hip joint" feel.
So to start out with a bang, here's baby piaffe and passage:
Piaffe is stepping up and down in place, passage is lifting up and down. Piaffe comes out of the back legs while passage is elevating the front legs. I always thought they were two sides of the coin (I guess they are) but I hadn't appreciated these distinctions.
To teach a horse piaffe, you lean forward ever so slightly, slightly lift your hands, and put both legs back and do a whispery-fluttery aid. The person on the ground uses the stick to tap their hind legs, and when the horse starts the movement, it feels like he's crouching down. You just do a few steps then stop and reward. You do it out of walk, not halt.
For passage, you lean back, but then lift your hands and put both legs back with the fluttery aid, and also - I don't know how to describe this - suck up with your seat. The person on the ground uses the stick on the horse's front legs. This one feels like they're stepping over trot poles.
So this was really, really cool.
Then we took that feeling, and worked on the trot (slower) and when I thought piaffe, George would get light in my hands also. And if we did it really, really well and all the stars aligned, I could feel the moment of lift that we added.
Then later we took the feeling from passage, and used it with OPEN HIPS to extend the trot. This was the same thing I did with Falada after Mike rode her a few (?) rides ago, where she felt like she sat back, lifted her front end up in the air, and then shot forward like a rocket. We got a baby feeling of this with George.
We also worked on canter, taking the piaffe, and walking, doing a few half steps (thinking piaffe), walking, repeat a few times, and then cantering a few strides on a 10 meter circle, and then thinking 1-2-3 [trot/walk/halt]. I had been trying to ride Falada with halts from behind earlier, and this exercise also really helped with that.
Mike's goal is that the exercises we did today are how I will exercise George, Falada, and to a slightly lesser degree Prince, from now on. These exhausted my legs, made me pour sweat, and were exhilirating. The hard part is I don't even know how to describe what happened, and without being able to describe it, I feel like I can't repeat it. It's like it's squirming always just out of my grasp - every once in a while I get it with the tips of my fingers, and then it slithers away again. I definitely feel it when it's right, but I don't quite know what I'm doing with my body to make it right.
But I am definitely going to keep working on this, because I think the world is going to open up when I finally catch on. And my being nice to myself is that in the two years (ish) I've been riding with Mike and Shannon, I have made SO much progress as a rider. Yes, I regret I didn't have the opportunity to ride with this level of instruction from the very beginning (I might actually be good by now), but I'm grateful to at least have it now, and not go my whole life without learning this.
Monday, December 05, 2011
Jump lesson on George
I was out of town for a week, and when I came back, Willig was off. I putzed around with him for a week, hoping it was arthritis, and then gave him bute for a week, so I rode George for my jump lesson.
George is a pretty green jumper, at least compared to Willig (I never thought I'd say that). But he still had to be a trooper because I just wasn't on my A (or B, or C) game. We had a lucky break of nice weather - no rain and not too cold with decent footing outside (not too mushy and wet).
We worked on a circle at first, then a circle over some ground poles, then finally a low combination (three trot poles to a cross rail, then eventually a 1 stride to a vertical, and then ending with a third vertical 2 strides from the middle).
I couldn't get my hands to stop screwing around with a mind of their own. Even my left leg couldn't outcompete my left hand.
This was so depressing and frustrating that I really don't even have anything to say about it.
The lesson I had a month-ish ago with Shannon where I had a eureka moment and rode without hands? That's what I need to be doing all the time, practicing all the time, until doing everything off of my seat feels natural. I need to brake by leaning back and using my back, not my hands. I need to steer off of my legs and seat, not my hands. I can't get the connection and power because I wiggle my hands around and let it all "out". So we worked with bridged reins and even then, my hands flapped and struggled to get free, and even on nice Mr. George, who knows how to ride off of seat and legs, I felt wild and out of control without my spazzy hands.
Afterwards, Willig got a light workout, and then handsome, sweet little Prince did a little teeny six jump trot course.
George is a pretty green jumper, at least compared to Willig (I never thought I'd say that). But he still had to be a trooper because I just wasn't on my A (or B, or C) game. We had a lucky break of nice weather - no rain and not too cold with decent footing outside (not too mushy and wet).
We worked on a circle at first, then a circle over some ground poles, then finally a low combination (three trot poles to a cross rail, then eventually a 1 stride to a vertical, and then ending with a third vertical 2 strides from the middle).
I couldn't get my hands to stop screwing around with a mind of their own. Even my left leg couldn't outcompete my left hand.
This was so depressing and frustrating that I really don't even have anything to say about it.
The lesson I had a month-ish ago with Shannon where I had a eureka moment and rode without hands? That's what I need to be doing all the time, practicing all the time, until doing everything off of my seat feels natural. I need to brake by leaning back and using my back, not my hands. I need to steer off of my legs and seat, not my hands. I can't get the connection and power because I wiggle my hands around and let it all "out". So we worked with bridged reins and even then, my hands flapped and struggled to get free, and even on nice Mr. George, who knows how to ride off of seat and legs, I felt wild and out of control without my spazzy hands.
Afterwards, Willig got a light workout, and then handsome, sweet little Prince did a little teeny six jump trot course.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Letting go and Abdicating control
I had two lessons today - a dressage lesson on Falada, the Grand Prix mare, and then a jumping lesson on Willig, the hootchie scootchie gelding we know all too well. Both were exhausting.
Dressage first.
Falada is the big, lazy southern belle sipping on a mint julep on a porch swing in the deep south. I thought I had gotten the hang of riding her, but it was actually just that she had fooled me into thinking I was riding, when really I was just lazily swinging.
Mike got on and showed me, talked me through everything he was doing, and let me feel (holding onto his fist) the amount of pressure he was using on the reins (not much, it turns out).
His first point was that I ride them fast, long, and strung out - and for a Grand Prix mare like Falada, she doesn't need to ride anything like that (Prince is just growing out of it, while baby Contempo is fine to be ridden like that). So he showed me the steps and how he gets her connected and on the bit, and then how he gets the impulsion and power coming from behind.
We also did a bit of piaffe and passage with the whip and bamboo pole, but all I learned is that this is yet another thing I'm not naturally coordinated at.
It was amazing to watch, and all made sense while he said it, but I couldn't repeat it later on the rest of the horses I rode. However, I did get to ride Falada right after, and we did some canter/walk transitions and this helluva huge extended trot that was just POWER exemplified. Really cool. Her butt sat down and her front legs lifted up and she just ROCKETED from the hind legs, but it was smooth as silk to sit on.
So it is kind of a wiggly leg (electrified leg - on and then OFF), then the toothpaste hands (also wiggly). When the horse gives, LET GO to reward them, then ask again. Some efforts are C, some are A+, but you have to reward so they understand what you're asking for.
This is the hard part - I can't let go. With my hands or with my leg. I just clench on tighter and tighter - like a barnacle stuck up there on their back.
So it was amazing to feel what it felt like when it was right, and for Mike to give me the step-by-step description, but I feel like this is my next big hurdle and I am really, really slowly catching on - even calling it "catching on" is being generous to myself.
Then Mike gave me a few comments on Willig's Donida dressage scores:
- Judge has no idea what happened at beginning of season
- Until I can ride test 2-1, I really shouldn't be showing test 1-3 (that's my words) - you should be riding at home a level above what you're showing
- a 60% is average. A 65-70% means you should be the next level up.
- a six has a big wide margin, an 8 is pretty much perfect and there's not a lot of 8-/ 8+ room
- I probably rode Willig bent the wrong way on the leg yield ("counterbent" would have been a more helpful comment than "ridden wrong")
- And I probably rode Willig the way I did pre-Falada lesson on the lengthened trot which is why she called it "strung out" (or whatever)
I've also been studying the 2-1 movements, and there's a lot I need to look up - like what is a simple lead change, and I'm still struggling with the difference between shoulder-in, haunches-in (travers), and renvers. And what's the difference between a lengthened trot and an extended trot?
Jump lesson:
I rode Willig last weekend over a course outside (well, we built up to it) but trot only because of the whole freight train/gimpy shoulder action at the canter. He did a good job, and I attributed it to my incredible skills "letting go" like both Mike and Shannon told me.
Mike had us do a similar warm up (should look like dressage) and then do a cross rail. His approach to Willig speeding up once he locked onto the fence was to (from the trot) ask him to halt, and then trot again, along the fence line, then halt on the far end, turn around, and do the fence again.
At canter, it was to turn off, at the latest, two strides out (one stride out is too late).
So we worked a few different fences at trot and canter - Willig was all ho-hum, of course - but doing just a teeny bit of the rushing before and after the fence. So Mike had us work on making the canter as short as possible. And if Willig sped up, turn off or halt. And if he rushed afterwards, use a pulley rein.
Now, we've used pulley reins before, but I had a really hard time with it today. One was my left shoulder was killing me (Falada likes to lean on it, and I'm prone to leaning back instead of tug and release) and it seemed like every time I needed it, it was my lame left arm. The other was I'm just mad, and I just pull and pull and pull and pull instead of pull and release. The third is that I can't feel the difference. Mike says he's listening and stopping the charging, but it doesn't feel any different to me until many, many, many strides later (and by then, I've just been ripping on his face unnecessarily). And fourth, I don't trust Willig. I don't like "release" because of how he used to bolt (and then once bolting, buck) and so I cling and cling to him.
And clinging, oddly, abdicates control. When I tug and release, I have better control than when I hang on him.
Mike thought Willig seemed happy and like he was enjoying himself, but that he was also clearly the one in charge and that no wonder I have trouble on the show jumping course. He also said work on this stuff on baby poles - a fight like that over a 3' fence is going to end in a crash.
So my homework was to set out about 12 poles around the arena and control what happens to them, over them, after them. And to use the pulley (sometimes I might need it four times) but over time, as he switches back to acknowledging me as the boss, I'll need it less and less and then only one time, if at all.
Dressage first.
Falada is the big, lazy southern belle sipping on a mint julep on a porch swing in the deep south. I thought I had gotten the hang of riding her, but it was actually just that she had fooled me into thinking I was riding, when really I was just lazily swinging.
Mike got on and showed me, talked me through everything he was doing, and let me feel (holding onto his fist) the amount of pressure he was using on the reins (not much, it turns out).
His first point was that I ride them fast, long, and strung out - and for a Grand Prix mare like Falada, she doesn't need to ride anything like that (Prince is just growing out of it, while baby Contempo is fine to be ridden like that). So he showed me the steps and how he gets her connected and on the bit, and then how he gets the impulsion and power coming from behind.
We also did a bit of piaffe and passage with the whip and bamboo pole, but all I learned is that this is yet another thing I'm not naturally coordinated at.
It was amazing to watch, and all made sense while he said it, but I couldn't repeat it later on the rest of the horses I rode. However, I did get to ride Falada right after, and we did some canter/walk transitions and this helluva huge extended trot that was just POWER exemplified. Really cool. Her butt sat down and her front legs lifted up and she just ROCKETED from the hind legs, but it was smooth as silk to sit on.
So it is kind of a wiggly leg (electrified leg - on and then OFF), then the toothpaste hands (also wiggly). When the horse gives, LET GO to reward them, then ask again. Some efforts are C, some are A+, but you have to reward so they understand what you're asking for.
This is the hard part - I can't let go. With my hands or with my leg. I just clench on tighter and tighter - like a barnacle stuck up there on their back.
So it was amazing to feel what it felt like when it was right, and for Mike to give me the step-by-step description, but I feel like this is my next big hurdle and I am really, really slowly catching on - even calling it "catching on" is being generous to myself.
Then Mike gave me a few comments on Willig's Donida dressage scores:
- Judge has no idea what happened at beginning of season
- Until I can ride test 2-1, I really shouldn't be showing test 1-3 (that's my words) - you should be riding at home a level above what you're showing
- a 60% is average. A 65-70% means you should be the next level up.
- a six has a big wide margin, an 8 is pretty much perfect and there's not a lot of 8-/ 8+ room
- I probably rode Willig bent the wrong way on the leg yield ("counterbent" would have been a more helpful comment than "ridden wrong")
- And I probably rode Willig the way I did pre-Falada lesson on the lengthened trot which is why she called it "strung out" (or whatever)
I've also been studying the 2-1 movements, and there's a lot I need to look up - like what is a simple lead change, and I'm still struggling with the difference between shoulder-in, haunches-in (travers), and renvers. And what's the difference between a lengthened trot and an extended trot?
Jump lesson:
I rode Willig last weekend over a course outside (well, we built up to it) but trot only because of the whole freight train/gimpy shoulder action at the canter. He did a good job, and I attributed it to my incredible skills "letting go" like both Mike and Shannon told me.
Mike had us do a similar warm up (should look like dressage) and then do a cross rail. His approach to Willig speeding up once he locked onto the fence was to (from the trot) ask him to halt, and then trot again, along the fence line, then halt on the far end, turn around, and do the fence again.
At canter, it was to turn off, at the latest, two strides out (one stride out is too late).
So we worked a few different fences at trot and canter - Willig was all ho-hum, of course - but doing just a teeny bit of the rushing before and after the fence. So Mike had us work on making the canter as short as possible. And if Willig sped up, turn off or halt. And if he rushed afterwards, use a pulley rein.
Now, we've used pulley reins before, but I had a really hard time with it today. One was my left shoulder was killing me (Falada likes to lean on it, and I'm prone to leaning back instead of tug and release) and it seemed like every time I needed it, it was my lame left arm. The other was I'm just mad, and I just pull and pull and pull and pull instead of pull and release. The third is that I can't feel the difference. Mike says he's listening and stopping the charging, but it doesn't feel any different to me until many, many, many strides later (and by then, I've just been ripping on his face unnecessarily). And fourth, I don't trust Willig. I don't like "release" because of how he used to bolt (and then once bolting, buck) and so I cling and cling to him.
And clinging, oddly, abdicates control. When I tug and release, I have better control than when I hang on him.
Mike thought Willig seemed happy and like he was enjoying himself, but that he was also clearly the one in charge and that no wonder I have trouble on the show jumping course. He also said work on this stuff on baby poles - a fight like that over a 3' fence is going to end in a crash.
So my homework was to set out about 12 poles around the arena and control what happens to them, over them, after them. And to use the pulley (sometimes I might need it four times) but over time, as he switches back to acknowledging me as the boss, I'll need it less and less and then only one time, if at all.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
((shaking fist at heavens))
We went to the Donida schooling show today. Disappointingly, despite how much work we've put into everything this year, our scores stayed pretty consistent with the beginning of the year - a 60.27 for 1-2 and a 59.35 for 1-3.
Here's what's infuriating: I have no idea how to improve them. I am riding and riding and riding and felt like I had finally pulled it all together, and instead, we've got the same old crap scores we always get.
For test 1-2, they were running about 45 minutes ahead of schedule, so I only warmed up for about 5 minutes. But I remembered Mike's comment when my time changed all crazy at Caber - that it's me who needs the time to warm up mentally, not Willig physically - and we actually did (slightly) better on that test.
The interesting ("") part about that was that Willig was very looky-loo at all the decorations - little pumpkins and leaves on the letters and a nice looking judge's stand - and so we've got a couple "braced" or "counterbent" comments when we're going past the judge at C. Indeed he was.
They let us have a nice long warm up so I got plenty of chances to find out just how hard he was going to brace (and thought of my lesson with Mike just this week where he spent the ENTIRE HOUR bracing in the same spot every freaking time).
Then they had a break, and they let riders come in and school. It was just me and another chestnut who didn't appear to care for the decor, and, not surprsingly, Willig didn't really get used to it. Just like in my lesson, maybe after 100x past it, we could go past it with just an ear craned at it, but if I rode down to the other end and back past it - yup, terrifying again.
So then after 1-3 - which by the way, for both - I felt like we did a great job. Given how much my shoulder has been hurting the last three weeks and the antics he's been pulling and all the opportunities (each letter with each new pumpkin) he had to act up, I thought he was a rock star. I was sitting well, I thought we had good engagement and connection, and I thought he had some really nice movements. A couple of them even made me smile.
Which is why I'm so frustrated with our scores - I'm obviously not feeling the right thing if I thought it was stellar and it was really 60%. So what am I feeling wrong?
After 1-3, the judge called me over and said that I'm letting him rush the trot lengthening, and so he's falling on his forehand, and then just falling on it faster. So do I not even know what that feels like? She also said in a lot of my comments that my leg yields were wrong. And I thought they were pretty spectacular - some of them I could even see in their mirrors.
So - sigh. More to work on with Mike. I could work with him pretty much every day and probably still not know what I don't know.
It was a pretty day though - pretty perfect horse show weather, and he stood in the trailer and ate hay like a champ. Loaded great both times too. And Atom was a little darling in the truck. So that part was good.
Here's what's infuriating: I have no idea how to improve them. I am riding and riding and riding and felt like I had finally pulled it all together, and instead, we've got the same old crap scores we always get.
For test 1-2, they were running about 45 minutes ahead of schedule, so I only warmed up for about 5 minutes. But I remembered Mike's comment when my time changed all crazy at Caber - that it's me who needs the time to warm up mentally, not Willig physically - and we actually did (slightly) better on that test.
The interesting ("") part about that was that Willig was very looky-loo at all the decorations - little pumpkins and leaves on the letters and a nice looking judge's stand - and so we've got a couple "braced" or "counterbent" comments when we're going past the judge at C. Indeed he was.
They let us have a nice long warm up so I got plenty of chances to find out just how hard he was going to brace (and thought of my lesson with Mike just this week where he spent the ENTIRE HOUR bracing in the same spot every freaking time).
Then they had a break, and they let riders come in and school. It was just me and another chestnut who didn't appear to care for the decor, and, not surprsingly, Willig didn't really get used to it. Just like in my lesson, maybe after 100x past it, we could go past it with just an ear craned at it, but if I rode down to the other end and back past it - yup, terrifying again.
So then after 1-3 - which by the way, for both - I felt like we did a great job. Given how much my shoulder has been hurting the last three weeks and the antics he's been pulling and all the opportunities (each letter with each new pumpkin) he had to act up, I thought he was a rock star. I was sitting well, I thought we had good engagement and connection, and I thought he had some really nice movements. A couple of them even made me smile.
Which is why I'm so frustrated with our scores - I'm obviously not feeling the right thing if I thought it was stellar and it was really 60%. So what am I feeling wrong?
After 1-3, the judge called me over and said that I'm letting him rush the trot lengthening, and so he's falling on his forehand, and then just falling on it faster. So do I not even know what that feels like? She also said in a lot of my comments that my leg yields were wrong. And I thought they were pretty spectacular - some of them I could even see in their mirrors.
So - sigh. More to work on with Mike. I could work with him pretty much every day and probably still not know what I don't know.
It was a pretty day though - pretty perfect horse show weather, and he stood in the trailer and ate hay like a champ. Loaded great both times too. And Atom was a little darling in the truck. So that part was good.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Codependent riding
The picture is only because I haven't posted one in a long time.
Today I had a good ride on three of Mike's horses:
Falada - Grand Prix
Tempi - Baby
George - 4th Level
Then I had a lesson on Willig, where we reverted to our work two years ago ... going past the scary corner. Seriously.
Mike gave me some more tools in my tool box to work with Willig (other than the unsuccessful losing-my-temper approach). Interestingly, although done in their own styles, his and Shannon's advice has been pretty much paralleling, and I'll call it "stop being a codependent rider."
Here's what seems to be happening: Willig radar beams his ears onto the scary corner and tenses up. I tense up my hands. He feels my tension and tenses his body. I feel the tension in his body and tense my body. He feels the tension and is like "oh shit! I better run!" As he takes the first step towards run, I go from 0-60 and start ripping on his face - that just scares him more. You get my point.
So both Mike and Shannon in my lessons this week had me do something that is almost physically impossible for me to do ... let go.
Shannon had me do it in the riding-with-only-my-seat method.
Mike had me ask Willig to connect (and then LET GO - I have a freakishly hard time letting go) and then once he gives, let go until his head pops up or zings around again. It's "ok" (not desirable, but as a training tool, ok to do for the short term) for me to use hard hands - what I'd call sawing on his face - if he ignores me and tries to crane his head around like a giraffe. But as soon as he gives to me, I have to stop and have light hands, even if I think he's going to fling it around a nanosecond later.
So we did that for a while around the corner. (We also did it at the end of the lesson, where Willig immediately - despite almost an hour of working around that corner, after being away from it for 2 minutes, flung around again like an epileptic.)
Then Mike set up a tiny little jump to see if Willig would rush it like he has been. No. He didn't. He jumped it from stupid take-off points, but was all ho-hum (going around the corner AFTER jumping it? That required counterbending and shoulders leading all crazy tilting-boat to the inside. But the fence itself - yawn.)
Mike did notice that I have a death grip on the reins, so even when Willig jumps, and most likely when he's heading towards a normal sized fence, I'm clenching tighter and tighter - which Mike points out gives him something to lean forward onto and REALLY rush. So again, his advice was to ride to the fence, and then LET GO and just let him do his job.
Then he turned the fence into a ground pole and we worked on shortening the stride and lengthening the stride to it and in between, to work on those take off points that Willig is missing. (When I started on the show jumpers, we told them the spot, and after about a year, I could always see it. Eventing, I try not to tell Willig the spot so that he'll find it - or correct it - himself, because I'll need that more on xc in case of trouble than I want a pretty sj round.)
Then we did just a bit of lateral work and ended with some canter work. Mike has noticed I have a fast seat - I'm not surprised given the rest of my personality - and so he had us work on going from an even trot to an even (excruciatingly slow) canter then when I ask for it (1-2-3) back down to even trot (or walk or halt).
Then, as I said, we rode back down to the far end where Willig was scared, and then when I walked him outside to cool him off, birds flew, which made him spook again. (By the by, most of my lesson was with the mower going just outside the door, which made for a great opportunity to work with Mike while Willig had something he was scared of.)
It was a useful lesson, but frustrating. It doesn't feel like we're making a lot of progress on the riding-neurotic-willig front, and I don't understand why I can ride Mike's horses (he pointed out his horses SHOULD be better than mine, since he's a professional and makes a living doing it, so maybe I should rethink my standards), but not Willig, although he and Shannon both pointed out the past history probably has a lot to do with it.
It's just that - Mike's horses, as varied as they are, are fun. Willig just feels like work.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Willig the freight train
We had a painful (emotionally and sweat-inducing) lesson today.
I have been losing my temper with Willig's antics. We started by me telling Shannon about how he won't quit swinging his head in the canter. (Sometimes I can see his teeth.) This led to us cantering around with my hands clamped on the breastplate (to see if it was my hands (giveaway: yes) or his head), but when we got to the scary end, he'd toss his head up and try to run. I'd react by see-sawing on his mouth, which would make him swing his head crazier. Shannon very calmly asked why I was ripping on his face (true answer: it makes me feel better) then pointed out it wasn't achieving any sort of goal - plus my goals were disorganized and inconsistent anyway, so how was he going to obey them?
Then we worked on the riding without hands, but I just got madder and madder because every time we'd head toward or away from the scary end (hint: in a rectangle, that makes everywhere but the short far end), he'd speed up. And sometimes skitter sideways. And I couldn't halt him. And so Shannon had us do a decent canter around, but he kept speeding up as we went past that end, so she had us keep cantering, until I completely melted down, tried to stop him, and couldn't, and jerked on his face all the way down the arena (this is longer than the long side in a full size dressage arena) trying to get him to stop before I just started crying.
So Shannon went and got a gag bit.
This helped a lot, although every time I'd apply any pressure, he'd toss his head up. While he still mostly blew me off - and this was the root of the problem - I had at least a tool at my disposal. Like the (now) trusty spurs.
And so this is it in a nutshell: bucking doesn't work anymore. spinning doesn't work anymore. his half ass rears don't work. But being a freight train does work.
Now I don't understand HOW freight train barreling around the arena is LESS work than just doing whatever I'm asking him to do (today: stop), but that's the next tool in Willig's toolkit, and like an idiot bipedal, I've chosen to wrestle with him - I mean, his freaking head probably weighs more than me - and I lose every time.
WHY does he do it? Because he's kind of a dick. Just like Shannon said the first time she rode him and John when I picked him up from training, and just like I'm learning from riding Mike's horses (and why my temper is getting so frayed and short with him).
We ended up with a fine series of fences, although they were baby fences, but since I started the lesson unable to halt, I guess that's progress.
We're going to try some stronger bits as another tool - not going backwards, but having something available to help correct his and my mistakes in training - and then I guess I'll see what he pulls out of his hat next.
We were both soaking wet with sweat by 1/3 of the way into the lesson. And I was crying and furious and frustrated with him, so I'm glad it was in front of Shannon during a lesson.
She said I have got to keep my cool. Pretend like I'm in a new arena and have no expectations about that end. Don't circle him anymore, but make him stay on the rail. If he's bad, he has to back or leg yield or shoulder-in. Try the harder bits and don't get in a wrestling match with his face. And be clear in what I want. If I want him to halt, make him halt.
Interestingly, this seems to be an extension of my Mike lesson, where Mike pointed out he was pretty much ignoring me. I think that's what's happened as this week has gone on - what makes me livid is when he just totally brushes off my aids and does whatever he feels like. I haven't known what to do when he does that.
I have been losing my temper with Willig's antics. We started by me telling Shannon about how he won't quit swinging his head in the canter. (Sometimes I can see his teeth.) This led to us cantering around with my hands clamped on the breastplate (to see if it was my hands (giveaway: yes) or his head), but when we got to the scary end, he'd toss his head up and try to run. I'd react by see-sawing on his mouth, which would make him swing his head crazier. Shannon very calmly asked why I was ripping on his face (true answer: it makes me feel better) then pointed out it wasn't achieving any sort of goal - plus my goals were disorganized and inconsistent anyway, so how was he going to obey them?
Then we worked on the riding without hands, but I just got madder and madder because every time we'd head toward or away from the scary end (hint: in a rectangle, that makes everywhere but the short far end), he'd speed up. And sometimes skitter sideways. And I couldn't halt him. And so Shannon had us do a decent canter around, but he kept speeding up as we went past that end, so she had us keep cantering, until I completely melted down, tried to stop him, and couldn't, and jerked on his face all the way down the arena (this is longer than the long side in a full size dressage arena) trying to get him to stop before I just started crying.
So Shannon went and got a gag bit.
This helped a lot, although every time I'd apply any pressure, he'd toss his head up. While he still mostly blew me off - and this was the root of the problem - I had at least a tool at my disposal. Like the (now) trusty spurs.
And so this is it in a nutshell: bucking doesn't work anymore. spinning doesn't work anymore. his half ass rears don't work. But being a freight train does work.
Now I don't understand HOW freight train barreling around the arena is LESS work than just doing whatever I'm asking him to do (today: stop), but that's the next tool in Willig's toolkit, and like an idiot bipedal, I've chosen to wrestle with him - I mean, his freaking head probably weighs more than me - and I lose every time.
WHY does he do it? Because he's kind of a dick. Just like Shannon said the first time she rode him and John when I picked him up from training, and just like I'm learning from riding Mike's horses (and why my temper is getting so frayed and short with him).
We ended up with a fine series of fences, although they were baby fences, but since I started the lesson unable to halt, I guess that's progress.
We're going to try some stronger bits as another tool - not going backwards, but having something available to help correct his and my mistakes in training - and then I guess I'll see what he pulls out of his hat next.
We were both soaking wet with sweat by 1/3 of the way into the lesson. And I was crying and furious and frustrated with him, so I'm glad it was in front of Shannon during a lesson.
She said I have got to keep my cool. Pretend like I'm in a new arena and have no expectations about that end. Don't circle him anymore, but make him stay on the rail. If he's bad, he has to back or leg yield or shoulder-in. Try the harder bits and don't get in a wrestling match with his face. And be clear in what I want. If I want him to halt, make him halt.
Interestingly, this seems to be an extension of my Mike lesson, where Mike pointed out he was pretty much ignoring me. I think that's what's happened as this week has gone on - what makes me livid is when he just totally brushes off my aids and does whatever he feels like. I haven't known what to do when he does that.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Chicken and egg
Two out of the last three days Willig threw temper tantrums. The first was Friday, when I asked him to do the same thing we did during our lesson Thursday (picking up the canter from the walk on a small circle). Instead, he feigned confusion and reared. When I'd whip him, he'd buck. When I'd kick him to stop him from bucking, he'd dart forward or sideways. When I'd jerk on his face to stop him from darting, he'd rear. Etc.
Saturday, he was an angel and was doing what felt like canter pirouettes.
Today, I tried to jump him outside in the good weather. He did fine when we trotted the course, but when I tried to canter it, we got into another huge fight (rearing, bucking, darting). This one made my left rotator cuff start hurting again, so I had to half-concede, after battling him into going over a few fences at least half-ass correctly.
Mike suggested during our lesson Thursday that we might have a couple of big disagreements coming up, and today two people were talking about Mike's "discussions" with their respective horses and how the horses respected him from that point forward.
Which brings me to the subject - is the problem me or Willig or both (a baby chicken in an egg?). In support of the problem being Willig, Exhibit A is the fact that I can ride all of Mike's horses (well, all that I've gotten on), no problemo. In support of the problem being me, Exhibit B is that well, those are Mike's horses. If Mike quit riding them and only I rode them, maybe eventually they'd degrade and act like Willig. In support of the problem being mutual, Exhibit C is the most likely - probably if Mike rode Willig all the time, he'd be as good as Mike's horses, and therefore the more I can ride with/for Mike, the more I'll learn and the more I'll increase the chances that one day, I'll be able to teach Willig (or future horse) the things that Mike "naturally" does.
A couple follow ups on my lesson:
- Supple and stretch over topline; compress underneath the neck. This should be my goal for all neck frames.
- As much as I might grumble, I'm glad when Willig's bad in a lesson because I don't have enough knowledge or innate talent to figure it out on my own in between lessons. So while I hate naughty Willig over fences, or bucking/rearing Willig - I'd WAY rather have Shannon or Mike be there that hour, yelling what to do next, so that when I'm alone, I can at least try their tips.
- I think that the lack of "feeling" (I prefer riding by formula) is really a fear of failure. I've noticed that I'm not taking as much advantage as I can of Mike's horses. Pablo in particular on Saturday I realized that I don't have to steer with my hands AT ALL. I can just use my hips. While I'm riding very well trained horses (but with different personalities and confirmations) I should be trying everything and soaking up what works and what doesn't work like a sponge. But I'm afraid to try things (and in fact, will do the same thing, not working, until someone tells me not to) because I'm afraid of looking like a doofus.
Saturday, he was an angel and was doing what felt like canter pirouettes.
Today, I tried to jump him outside in the good weather. He did fine when we trotted the course, but when I tried to canter it, we got into another huge fight (rearing, bucking, darting). This one made my left rotator cuff start hurting again, so I had to half-concede, after battling him into going over a few fences at least half-ass correctly.
Mike suggested during our lesson Thursday that we might have a couple of big disagreements coming up, and today two people were talking about Mike's "discussions" with their respective horses and how the horses respected him from that point forward.
Which brings me to the subject - is the problem me or Willig or both (a baby chicken in an egg?). In support of the problem being Willig, Exhibit A is the fact that I can ride all of Mike's horses (well, all that I've gotten on), no problemo. In support of the problem being me, Exhibit B is that well, those are Mike's horses. If Mike quit riding them and only I rode them, maybe eventually they'd degrade and act like Willig. In support of the problem being mutual, Exhibit C is the most likely - probably if Mike rode Willig all the time, he'd be as good as Mike's horses, and therefore the more I can ride with/for Mike, the more I'll learn and the more I'll increase the chances that one day, I'll be able to teach Willig (or future horse) the things that Mike "naturally" does.
A couple follow ups on my lesson:
- Supple and stretch over topline; compress underneath the neck. This should be my goal for all neck frames.
- As much as I might grumble, I'm glad when Willig's bad in a lesson because I don't have enough knowledge or innate talent to figure it out on my own in between lessons. So while I hate naughty Willig over fences, or bucking/rearing Willig - I'd WAY rather have Shannon or Mike be there that hour, yelling what to do next, so that when I'm alone, I can at least try their tips.
- I think that the lack of "feeling" (I prefer riding by formula) is really a fear of failure. I've noticed that I'm not taking as much advantage as I can of Mike's horses. Pablo in particular on Saturday I realized that I don't have to steer with my hands AT ALL. I can just use my hips. While I'm riding very well trained horses (but with different personalities and confirmations) I should be trying everything and soaking up what works and what doesn't work like a sponge. But I'm afraid to try things (and in fact, will do the same thing, not working, until someone tells me not to) because I'm afraid of looking like a doofus.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
3 rides & a lesson
Today was full and fabulous. I rode three of Mike's horses (Pablo, Prince, and Falada) and then had a lesson on Willig. I feel like the cup that overfloweth. There was WAY too much information in those three rides and lesson for me to be able to retain it all.
Mike gave me a mini-lesson on Pablo. First - a "duh" moment. I've been trying to get Pablo to carry his head lower, and the way I've been asking is to suck up and suck up the reins. Because Pablo is a gentleman, he sucks up and sucks up his neck, and neither of us could see the forest for the trees (actually, Pablo was probably just like "What the hell is she doing up there?" and then chummily going along with it). Here is a life lesson: if what you're doing isn't working, don't keep doing it. Try something else. This took about a nanosecond from Mike before he said "let the reins out" - Pablo stretched down and out into them (gratefully, I'm pretty sure) and we solved the problem why I couldn't get his head and neck frame lower. Second - then we got to the harder (new) stuff (for me). Pablo can canter really, really, really slowly. And I need to ask him to, because that's how he's supposed to canter. I fling around like something shot out of a rocket, and what he needs is the moment of "lift" (the suspension) in the 1-2-3-air-1-2-3-air. Because he's Grand Prix, he can hold that "air" moment so long that you can feel it. If you're going slow enough, which I never am on my own. Oddly, this was hard for me to do. Mike also noticed that Pablo, who is a very straight horse, was riding travers the whole time, and so I think it's coming out of my left hip. I had to contort myself (at least, my feeling) to get him straight. I've got to get that figured out. We also worked on extended trot. Mike says to balance it out - ride passage, and then extend it, but you keep the "up" from passage and then let it flow forward to the extension - not flopping onto the forehand but the elevation and engagement from behind.
Next I rode Prince, who is my favorite, and a total delight to ride. He wasn't quite as much a sweetie as he has been the other rides - he didn't really want to do transitions smoothly. We ended our ride outside, where I taught him to walk over the tarp. Since he's a sweetie, this was really just me being patient while he looked at it, hesitated, looked at it, took a tentative step forward, looked at it ... etc. I can tell I adore him because he finally put both front feet over it, got scared, and jumped backwards instead of the rest of the way over it, which I thought was funny (instead of infuriating, if Willig had done it). We got to where he didn't hesitate for a second to walk over it and called it quits.
Then I rode Falada, another Grand Prix horse, who has an entirely different feel than Pablo. It doesn't feel like you're working to ride her (at least, the way I was riding), but then your muscles are oddly tired at the end. She feels like you're just sitting in a nice swing on the front porch of a southern mansion. We worked outside in a nice break of sun. Shannon rode by and said we were long and low, and Mike said he'll try to time it so I can ride her and he can give me a lesson because she's naturally long and low (and I am too) so I'll know the proper feel.
Then came my lesson on Willig.
He should be the easiest, since I'm the most used to him, but he rides like a pogo stick after them. A pogo stick with one of those bobbling heads.
He's been a bit of a kook about the far end (now that it's dark out of it at night), and today another boarder parked there to move fences, and so he spent most of the warm up telling me he had been justified all those nights he's been scared of it in the dark.
So what we ended up spending a lot of time on during the lesson was how Willig doesn't actually respond to me, and in fact, kind of blows me off. And worse than that (to me), when he gets punished for it, he gives me the horse finger (a little buck, a head shake) instead of a shamed "I'll do better next time" Eeyore approach.
I was having a terrible time with his bobbling head (which is just excruciating after riding three of Mike's horses) so we went way, way back to basics, at the halt, with Mike holding the reins, we'd get his head in the proper place, and then I'd release when he gave, and then the second it flung again (about a nanosecond later), we'd do it again. Then we did that at the walk. Then we tried to do it at the trot. The idea is that he learns that it's what I want. Then he holds it for a nanosecond on his own. Then he holds it for a second - then two - then three - etc. until it's a 1/4 circle, a 1/2 circle, a circle - half the arena - then trotting - then transitioning up - then down - to infinity. Maybe by the time one of us is 40, we'll be able to go around the arena like Mike's four year old does. I give a little uberstrechen (sp?) on each side once he's got it to teach him that's what I want and he's supposed to hold it on his own.
Honestly, this was most of the lesson. And I was making grunting noises of frustration through a lot of it.
Then we did picking up the correct lead. If I want the right lead, my left shoulder blade "looks" to the inside, and I ask for leg yield to the right. And the problem was yes, my position, but also that I'd ask (correctly) and Willig would just ignore it. So there was a lot of kicking and whipping - or at least, Mike telling me to kick and whip and by then it was late.
Then we did our teeny tiny (8 m?) circles at three strides of up-up-up canter. This is to help him a) build the muscle for the longer suspension like Pablo can do, b) know that what I want is the slowed down version, and c) get his attention on me. It also helps me remember that transitions are supposed to be seamless - 1-2-1-2 (trotting), then 1-2-1-2 (cantering), then 1-2-1-2 (trotting) - no sprawling in between the up and down aids. Maybe 1 in 10 he did gorgeously. The rest were like a blooper reel.
Then we did some half-elevated trot poles, and then the trot poles picking up the canter as we came over the last pole. What was interesting here was that the cadence over the trot pole, I could sit (it also helps me to sit the bigger trot to think about "swinging" my hips towards my hands) which I think we tried about a year ago and it just flung me out of the saddle like a rag doll. But as soon as we were over the poles, I'd flop around. Mike thought Willig was diving down and pulling me.
Finally, we ended up with trying to work on the passage feeling from Pablo, but this ended up being a wrestling match about his head position (back to square one, where we started), and as sweat was pouring down my forehead, he finally gave for a teeny tiny second and we were able to quit. It took lap after lap after lap after lap. Mike's take is that while Willig is not the most generous of horses, he's teaching me a lot (at the very least, teaching me what to feel for the next horse I get), and he suspects that while I might grumble (and sweat, vigorously), I'd be bored on a horse that didn't have that spunk. And since the ones with both spunk and a charming personality are never for sale - or require winning the lottery to buy - this is worth learning.
I agree. Learning how to teach Willig (who Mike says has a nice canter and walk, but could improve his trot) how to do all these things will help me with my next horse - and every other horse I ride. It's just I'm impatient. Now that the door has opened and I've seen how much I'm missing out on, I want to be in THAT room - not learning how to go through the door - and I want to be there, like, yesterday. And yes, I've let Willig get away with a lot of nonsense for the last 4 (?) years, so why should he understand that as of last week, I didn't want to put up with it anymore? I need to unteach him the bad habits I taught him.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted and ecstatic. What a great day. I would give just about anything to be able to do this every day. And I am so, so lucky to be able to do it one day a week (and weekends!). This has been, quite possibly, my best life decision yet.
Mike gave me a mini-lesson on Pablo. First - a "duh" moment. I've been trying to get Pablo to carry his head lower, and the way I've been asking is to suck up and suck up the reins. Because Pablo is a gentleman, he sucks up and sucks up his neck, and neither of us could see the forest for the trees (actually, Pablo was probably just like "What the hell is she doing up there?" and then chummily going along with it). Here is a life lesson: if what you're doing isn't working, don't keep doing it. Try something else. This took about a nanosecond from Mike before he said "let the reins out" - Pablo stretched down and out into them (gratefully, I'm pretty sure) and we solved the problem why I couldn't get his head and neck frame lower. Second - then we got to the harder (new) stuff (for me). Pablo can canter really, really, really slowly. And I need to ask him to, because that's how he's supposed to canter. I fling around like something shot out of a rocket, and what he needs is the moment of "lift" (the suspension) in the 1-2-3-air-1-2-3-air. Because he's Grand Prix, he can hold that "air" moment so long that you can feel it. If you're going slow enough, which I never am on my own. Oddly, this was hard for me to do. Mike also noticed that Pablo, who is a very straight horse, was riding travers the whole time, and so I think it's coming out of my left hip. I had to contort myself (at least, my feeling) to get him straight. I've got to get that figured out. We also worked on extended trot. Mike says to balance it out - ride passage, and then extend it, but you keep the "up" from passage and then let it flow forward to the extension - not flopping onto the forehand but the elevation and engagement from behind.
Next I rode Prince, who is my favorite, and a total delight to ride. He wasn't quite as much a sweetie as he has been the other rides - he didn't really want to do transitions smoothly. We ended our ride outside, where I taught him to walk over the tarp. Since he's a sweetie, this was really just me being patient while he looked at it, hesitated, looked at it, took a tentative step forward, looked at it ... etc. I can tell I adore him because he finally put both front feet over it, got scared, and jumped backwards instead of the rest of the way over it, which I thought was funny (instead of infuriating, if Willig had done it). We got to where he didn't hesitate for a second to walk over it and called it quits.
Then I rode Falada, another Grand Prix horse, who has an entirely different feel than Pablo. It doesn't feel like you're working to ride her (at least, the way I was riding), but then your muscles are oddly tired at the end. She feels like you're just sitting in a nice swing on the front porch of a southern mansion. We worked outside in a nice break of sun. Shannon rode by and said we were long and low, and Mike said he'll try to time it so I can ride her and he can give me a lesson because she's naturally long and low (and I am too) so I'll know the proper feel.
Then came my lesson on Willig.
He should be the easiest, since I'm the most used to him, but he rides like a pogo stick after them. A pogo stick with one of those bobbling heads.
He's been a bit of a kook about the far end (now that it's dark out of it at night), and today another boarder parked there to move fences, and so he spent most of the warm up telling me he had been justified all those nights he's been scared of it in the dark.
So what we ended up spending a lot of time on during the lesson was how Willig doesn't actually respond to me, and in fact, kind of blows me off. And worse than that (to me), when he gets punished for it, he gives me the horse finger (a little buck, a head shake) instead of a shamed "I'll do better next time" Eeyore approach.
I was having a terrible time with his bobbling head (which is just excruciating after riding three of Mike's horses) so we went way, way back to basics, at the halt, with Mike holding the reins, we'd get his head in the proper place, and then I'd release when he gave, and then the second it flung again (about a nanosecond later), we'd do it again. Then we did that at the walk. Then we tried to do it at the trot. The idea is that he learns that it's what I want. Then he holds it for a nanosecond on his own. Then he holds it for a second - then two - then three - etc. until it's a 1/4 circle, a 1/2 circle, a circle - half the arena - then trotting - then transitioning up - then down - to infinity. Maybe by the time one of us is 40, we'll be able to go around the arena like Mike's four year old does. I give a little uberstrechen (sp?) on each side once he's got it to teach him that's what I want and he's supposed to hold it on his own.
Honestly, this was most of the lesson. And I was making grunting noises of frustration through a lot of it.
Then we did picking up the correct lead. If I want the right lead, my left shoulder blade "looks" to the inside, and I ask for leg yield to the right. And the problem was yes, my position, but also that I'd ask (correctly) and Willig would just ignore it. So there was a lot of kicking and whipping - or at least, Mike telling me to kick and whip and by then it was late.
Then we did our teeny tiny (8 m?) circles at three strides of up-up-up canter. This is to help him a) build the muscle for the longer suspension like Pablo can do, b) know that what I want is the slowed down version, and c) get his attention on me. It also helps me remember that transitions are supposed to be seamless - 1-2-1-2 (trotting), then 1-2-1-2 (cantering), then 1-2-1-2 (trotting) - no sprawling in between the up and down aids. Maybe 1 in 10 he did gorgeously. The rest were like a blooper reel.
Then we did some half-elevated trot poles, and then the trot poles picking up the canter as we came over the last pole. What was interesting here was that the cadence over the trot pole, I could sit (it also helps me to sit the bigger trot to think about "swinging" my hips towards my hands) which I think we tried about a year ago and it just flung me out of the saddle like a rag doll. But as soon as we were over the poles, I'd flop around. Mike thought Willig was diving down and pulling me.
Finally, we ended up with trying to work on the passage feeling from Pablo, but this ended up being a wrestling match about his head position (back to square one, where we started), and as sweat was pouring down my forehead, he finally gave for a teeny tiny second and we were able to quit. It took lap after lap after lap after lap. Mike's take is that while Willig is not the most generous of horses, he's teaching me a lot (at the very least, teaching me what to feel for the next horse I get), and he suspects that while I might grumble (and sweat, vigorously), I'd be bored on a horse that didn't have that spunk. And since the ones with both spunk and a charming personality are never for sale - or require winning the lottery to buy - this is worth learning.
I agree. Learning how to teach Willig (who Mike says has a nice canter and walk, but could improve his trot) how to do all these things will help me with my next horse - and every other horse I ride. It's just I'm impatient. Now that the door has opened and I've seen how much I'm missing out on, I want to be in THAT room - not learning how to go through the door - and I want to be there, like, yesterday. And yes, I've let Willig get away with a lot of nonsense for the last 4 (?) years, so why should he understand that as of last week, I didn't want to put up with it anymore? I need to unteach him the bad habits I taught him.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted and ecstatic. What a great day. I would give just about anything to be able to do this every day. And I am so, so lucky to be able to do it one day a week (and weekends!). This has been, quite possibly, my best life decision yet.
Sunday, October 09, 2011
1st jump lesson in about 2 months
Note 1: The jumps got "big" again with two months off. I was looking at 2'10", 2'11" like it was normal at the end there, and now 2'6" has become monstrous. I'm getting old ...
Note 2: Willig has been heavy on my deltoids lately (I am not sure what we're doing differently, but after about 10 minutes of it, my deltoids are screaming for mercy), and his first day of jumping, outside with the wind blowing up his tail, and that stupid poodle romping around in his barn, doing a three fence line heading towards the barn = no need to work on the deltoids at home with weights that evening. Lordy.
Note 3: My lower leg did NOT forget (like my eyeballs did with the height)! Shannon is worth her weight in gold for that alone. Willig had the end of one fence where he decided to be a pill and buck and skidder around sideways, and even though we'd been freight train barreling through, I was in balance above him over the last (highest) fence every time, so he couldn't unseat me or shake me out of balance and I could get right to the business of whipping him and making him work.
Note 4: Some of his antics lately have included these baby rears. Shannon said to always make him go forward (even forward in a circle) because he can't go up if he's moving forward.
What we did was some ground poles, and working on paying attention to me (not the wall) by leg yielding towards it and watching his ears and asking for the attention to refocus on me. At one point, he was so focused on the poodle that Shannon told me to circle to get his attention back to me, but he shifted right that second so we didn't have to. But good reminder - I need him focused on me, not other stuff, and not to keep going just because I want to do the fence next.
Then we did an easy line (really long distance between and trotting, two low fences), stopping at the end, turning around, and going back through it the other way. We did this a whole bunch of times, but he never really got lighter or more responsive. Ideally, when I'd sit up tall at the end, he'd slow down.
Then Shannon turned it into low verticals. Same thing, but cantering.
Then she put a third fence in the center, making it one direction, and made the end fence taller.
Then she put some stuff underneath the fences to make him look.
The good news is while he was looky (at everything but me - the fences, the poodle, her), he didn't do any snaky run-outs or anything like it.
He had the one little bucking jump after one line, but other than that, his only flaw was barreling like a jet, which is hardly the worst from him.
Plus, that third fence in the line, floating over it with my legs and balance just right every time? Heaven!
Note 2: Willig has been heavy on my deltoids lately (I am not sure what we're doing differently, but after about 10 minutes of it, my deltoids are screaming for mercy), and his first day of jumping, outside with the wind blowing up his tail, and that stupid poodle romping around in his barn, doing a three fence line heading towards the barn = no need to work on the deltoids at home with weights that evening. Lordy.
Note 3: My lower leg did NOT forget (like my eyeballs did with the height)! Shannon is worth her weight in gold for that alone. Willig had the end of one fence where he decided to be a pill and buck and skidder around sideways, and even though we'd been freight train barreling through, I was in balance above him over the last (highest) fence every time, so he couldn't unseat me or shake me out of balance and I could get right to the business of whipping him and making him work.
Note 4: Some of his antics lately have included these baby rears. Shannon said to always make him go forward (even forward in a circle) because he can't go up if he's moving forward.
What we did was some ground poles, and working on paying attention to me (not the wall) by leg yielding towards it and watching his ears and asking for the attention to refocus on me. At one point, he was so focused on the poodle that Shannon told me to circle to get his attention back to me, but he shifted right that second so we didn't have to. But good reminder - I need him focused on me, not other stuff, and not to keep going just because I want to do the fence next.
Then we did an easy line (really long distance between and trotting, two low fences), stopping at the end, turning around, and going back through it the other way. We did this a whole bunch of times, but he never really got lighter or more responsive. Ideally, when I'd sit up tall at the end, he'd slow down.
Then Shannon turned it into low verticals. Same thing, but cantering.
Then she put a third fence in the center, making it one direction, and made the end fence taller.
Then she put some stuff underneath the fences to make him look.
The good news is while he was looky (at everything but me - the fences, the poodle, her), he didn't do any snaky run-outs or anything like it.
He had the one little bucking jump after one line, but other than that, his only flaw was barreling like a jet, which is hardly the worst from him.
Plus, that third fence in the line, floating over it with my legs and balance just right every time? Heaven!
Hives are gone again
Whew!
They've been gone a couple weeks, but I kept him on his supplements to make sure whatever it was that got into his system had a chance to get all the way out, and to watch for them to come back when I took him off the supplements.
They've been gone a couple weeks, but I kept him on his supplements to make sure whatever it was that got into his system had a chance to get all the way out, and to watch for them to come back when I took him off the supplements.
Friday, September 30, 2011
2nd day of work and 2nd level new movement
Yesterday I got to ride Pablo, Falada, and Prince. Two Grand Prix horses and a 5 year old who is a sweetheart. Mike gave me some suggestions while I was riding Pablo, but then he got busy with Teenie, and then we went on a trail ride with George and Falada.
During my lesson, by which point my abs were getting tired (yay in long run!), we worked on:
- Foot position. Yes, toes straight ahead (as if standing) is preferred to 45 degree angle - for dressage, because you need so much fine tuned leg movement.
- We did a 3 loop serpentine for the first time. Very cool, but I need to think about it - I have to lift the inside seat bone - unless it's the outside - why I need to think about it. And the geometry, which looks simple on paper, is not as intuitive to ride.
- Collection and being on the bit. Willig was having a day where he really didn't want to be on the bit, so there was a lot of heavy handed riding by me - it makes my arms tired.
- But then we figured out, after a canter lengthening where I basically threw the reins down, that maybe what I'm missing working on the "poof" by myself is that I throw away the connection. When I keep the "heavy" contact, Willig LIFTS, which is weird and also counterintuitive because the poof is so light and easy to ride.
- Don't put up with the laziness - if I want him to respond immediately to my aids, them make him respond every single transition every single ride.
I was kind of pooped by the end of the day, although it was pretty much what I'd do every day if I was a millionaire and didn't have to work, so it was a very happy, good exhaustion. It's also soooo cool to get to ride all those horses, and then about a million times cooler to have Mike there to give me little pointers. This is far and away the best use of my time I've made out of the last - 10 years? My life?
However, Willig is the LEAST fun to ride of that bunch. They're all different, they all look at the scary end to varying degrees, but I can't quite put my finger on what makes him more difficult. He's more ... wiggly.
During my lesson, by which point my abs were getting tired (yay in long run!), we worked on:
- Foot position. Yes, toes straight ahead (as if standing) is preferred to 45 degree angle - for dressage, because you need so much fine tuned leg movement.
- We did a 3 loop serpentine for the first time. Very cool, but I need to think about it - I have to lift the inside seat bone - unless it's the outside - why I need to think about it. And the geometry, which looks simple on paper, is not as intuitive to ride.
- Collection and being on the bit. Willig was having a day where he really didn't want to be on the bit, so there was a lot of heavy handed riding by me - it makes my arms tired.
- But then we figured out, after a canter lengthening where I basically threw the reins down, that maybe what I'm missing working on the "poof" by myself is that I throw away the connection. When I keep the "heavy" contact, Willig LIFTS, which is weird and also counterintuitive because the poof is so light and easy to ride.
- Don't put up with the laziness - if I want him to respond immediately to my aids, them make him respond every single transition every single ride.
I was kind of pooped by the end of the day, although it was pretty much what I'd do every day if I was a millionaire and didn't have to work, so it was a very happy, good exhaustion. It's also soooo cool to get to ride all those horses, and then about a million times cooler to have Mike there to give me little pointers. This is far and away the best use of my time I've made out of the last - 10 years? My life?
However, Willig is the LEAST fun to ride of that bunch. They're all different, they all look at the scary end to varying degrees, but I can't quite put my finger on what makes him more difficult. He's more ... wiggly.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Hive free!
For the time being at least.
And we're back to jumping. Willig has been (knock on leather) quite the gentleman lately.
And we're back to jumping. Willig has been (knock on leather) quite the gentleman lately.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Prince & George
Today I rode two horses, my first day helping Mike, Prince and George. (Two chestnuts - then Willig, who I swear was jealously watching me and hence, well behaved when I finally got on him.)
Prince is young (4?) and seems to have the personality of his mother. He was very mellow for a youngster. He acted like I expect warmbloods to act. A flick of the ears rather than a rapid sideways skittering.
George is a bit more frisky, but thanks to the few years now of working with Willig, it wasn't a big deal (!!). The only thing he did (that I forgot to ask Mike about) was when he was trying to do a racecar canter, and I'd ask him for a down transition, he'd do a collected canter instead. So I obviously don't know the distinction between those two aids, and should figure it out so I don't confuse him in the future.
Both of them, like Mardi, Charlie, and Pablo, were much more "rolly" and easy to ride. I was thinking it was because Willig is very narrow compared to them, but then, as I thought about their confirmations, I realized that couldn't be it (they all have very different confirmations, and Willig's is actually, while narrow, quite elegant).
And then I had an "ah-ha" moment. It's their balance. Their hindquarters are engaged while Willig still spends a lot of time heavy on the forehand. It's what makes them feel like a wave rolling from back to front (it comes under the hip bone, lifts it up, and gently lets it back down), makes them easier to sit the trot on, and makes them easier to ride in general.
I feel like I'm on the verge of "getting it", but I really, really want to know how to create that engagement myself. I will NEVER EVER go back once I've figured that out. (Although I have no idea how I've ridden so many horses - 100? - and never felt it until this barn.)
As an aside - the trampoline seat is really coming along. (That's what I think is the verge of getting it. Suddenly, I can do trampoline seat no problem.)
Prince is young (4?) and seems to have the personality of his mother. He was very mellow for a youngster. He acted like I expect warmbloods to act. A flick of the ears rather than a rapid sideways skittering.
George is a bit more frisky, but thanks to the few years now of working with Willig, it wasn't a big deal (!!). The only thing he did (that I forgot to ask Mike about) was when he was trying to do a racecar canter, and I'd ask him for a down transition, he'd do a collected canter instead. So I obviously don't know the distinction between those two aids, and should figure it out so I don't confuse him in the future.
Both of them, like Mardi, Charlie, and Pablo, were much more "rolly" and easy to ride. I was thinking it was because Willig is very narrow compared to them, but then, as I thought about their confirmations, I realized that couldn't be it (they all have very different confirmations, and Willig's is actually, while narrow, quite elegant).
And then I had an "ah-ha" moment. It's their balance. Their hindquarters are engaged while Willig still spends a lot of time heavy on the forehand. It's what makes them feel like a wave rolling from back to front (it comes under the hip bone, lifts it up, and gently lets it back down), makes them easier to sit the trot on, and makes them easier to ride in general.
I feel like I'm on the verge of "getting it", but I really, really want to know how to create that engagement myself. I will NEVER EVER go back once I've figured that out. (Although I have no idea how I've ridden so many horses - 100? - and never felt it until this barn.)
As an aside - the trampoline seat is really coming along. (That's what I think is the verge of getting it. Suddenly, I can do trampoline seat no problem.)
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Breakthrough! I can ride with my seat & legs!
I had a flat lesson with Shannon today - I wasn't sure Willig was going to be sound for jumping, but there is plenty to work on from the ground, and I didn't want to miss yet another lesson weekend.
This was, it turns out, a brilliant idea. (Go, Martha.)
After my normal ploddy around crap for warm-up (the take away: it really isn't necessary. Do a few laps of plodding (<10 minutes) and then get to work.), we did something really, really cool. Are you ready? Can you wait to hear this? Are you on the edge of your seat?
I was telling Shannon about how when I rode Pablo, I tried to steer from the inside hand to turn him, and it took me most of the lesson to start steering with the outside hand and leg, like she told me to do maybe a year ago?
And I'm worried that I'm somehow faking it on Willig, and don't know how to do this yet. First, she pointed out I rode Charlie fine, and second, she hasn't noticed anything egregious, but ok, we'd work on it.
And so I latched my hands onto the gel pad and ....
steered Willig with my legs and seat only!!!!
With other horses in the arena, I could make circles, move him in and out off the wall in the circle, go from walk to trot to canter and back down.
And I didn't need my hands for ANY of it.
It was amazing. I was grinning like a fool again.
We tried this, outside, maybe a year ago or so, and I couldn't even go a few steps without freaking out and letting go of the saddle pad and hanging onto the reins again. I kept telling her (that time) that there was NO WAY I could go around the arena without my hands. She'd tell me to try again, and I'd try to sneaky use my hand.
This was so amazing and cool and also just such an objective sign of progress.
And ... still not lame! Those first few days were maybe just him bouncing off the walls. I haven't felt a flicker since.
Although he's still got his hives - so far just neck and saddle area - not behind the saddle.
So the lesson was that I micro-manage with my hands, but if I can think about them being still, I am perfectly capable of riding with my seat and legs for pretty much everything I need.
And he was a gentleman. Lots and lots of horses and the rain and he's been kind of wild this week, but not during this lesson.
This was, it turns out, a brilliant idea. (Go, Martha.)
After my normal ploddy around crap for warm-up (the take away: it really isn't necessary. Do a few laps of plodding (<10 minutes) and then get to work.), we did something really, really cool. Are you ready? Can you wait to hear this? Are you on the edge of your seat?
I was telling Shannon about how when I rode Pablo, I tried to steer from the inside hand to turn him, and it took me most of the lesson to start steering with the outside hand and leg, like she told me to do maybe a year ago?
And I'm worried that I'm somehow faking it on Willig, and don't know how to do this yet. First, she pointed out I rode Charlie fine, and second, she hasn't noticed anything egregious, but ok, we'd work on it.
And so I latched my hands onto the gel pad and ....
steered Willig with my legs and seat only!!!!
With other horses in the arena, I could make circles, move him in and out off the wall in the circle, go from walk to trot to canter and back down.
And I didn't need my hands for ANY of it.
It was amazing. I was grinning like a fool again.
We tried this, outside, maybe a year ago or so, and I couldn't even go a few steps without freaking out and letting go of the saddle pad and hanging onto the reins again. I kept telling her (that time) that there was NO WAY I could go around the arena without my hands. She'd tell me to try again, and I'd try to sneaky use my hand.
This was so amazing and cool and also just such an objective sign of progress.
And ... still not lame! Those first few days were maybe just him bouncing off the walls. I haven't felt a flicker since.
Although he's still got his hives - so far just neck and saddle area - not behind the saddle.
So the lesson was that I micro-manage with my hands, but if I can think about them being still, I am perfectly capable of riding with my seat and legs for pretty much everything I need.
And he was a gentleman. Lots and lots of horses and the rain and he's been kind of wild this week, but not during this lesson.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Eeeeee - happy dance!
Starting next week, one afternoon a week I'll be helping Mike with his horses. Since he is teaching a couple piaffe and passage, this is going to be SO educational. I am so excited!!!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Trampoline Seat = Easier Ride
Today we worked our way closer to the elusive poof. Thanks to one of the Pony Club manuals, I realized that what I've been calling the "poof" is when Willig gets off his forehand and engages his hindlegs, which elevates the forehand and creates the "poof". Mike explained how Training and 1st level are working over the topline, so switching to the "poof" for 2nd and 3rd level is a big change for the way that the horse thinks about doing his job.
We started with working on the sitting trot with the "trampoline seat" and an internal metronome to switch from a regular trot to a working trot and back. I can ask for a bigger trot, but unless I think "1-2-1-2" to myself, we just speed up and flop onto the forehand. When I think "1-2" instead, he begins to lift up, and while the trot gets bigger (and yes, a little faster), it isn't as hard to sit as a racing on the forehand medium trot.
Then we worked on the canter, thinking the same thing - maintaining his connection into the canter (by slowing down the trot and then WAITING for him instead of flinging into the aid like a spaz (me)), and then lifting into trot, not plummeting down on the forehand. We also did a bit of using the outside leg to move him onto a 10 meter circle, and then maintain the canter (hard work for him) on the little circle.
As if that didn't fill my head with enough, then we did a few minutes of asking for connection - wiggling both rains erratically(right 3 shakes, left 7 shakes, right 4 shakes, both together, etc.) to get his attention and connection. Then I did the same walking, and then added leg shaking which was truly a feat of multi-tasking. And then, because Mike couldn't see the steam coming out of my ears with my poor brain trying so hard to juggle that much, he added picking up the trot. The goal was Willig, moving forward nicely, but maintaining his connection. The secondary goal was to begin to train my brain to focus on more things at once, so that when we eventually learn flying changes, and it is an inside leg, outside leg, hip, shoulder, hand aid - all at once - I'll have the multi-tasking ability to do it.
Then we went to lateral work, doing leg yields, and then leg yields that turned into shoulder-in. This helps to engage his hind leg, but also helps me with my aids (these were kind of ugly - we got the job done but it wasn't pretty) and not using my leg further back for leg yield or allowing him to bend too much in shoulder-in, but instead, really engage his outside hind leg.
Then we took the lateral work, added canter, and shifted my shoulders to the outside, which made Willig's hindquarters go to the inside, and then to the inside, which made them (sort of) go to the outside. He moved more naturally (most horses do, apparently) to the inside.
*Note - trampoline seat can be done from a slightly forward jumping seat (like a hunter seat), and doesn't need a leaning-back driving seat. The driving seat kind of drives Willig to dive down on his forehand, while, kind of contrary to my common sense at least, the slightly tilted forward softer seat still "lifts" him on the forehand.
Then we went back to canter, not running forward on the up transition, not plummeting down in the down transition, and making a 10 meter circle.
The take-aways were that there is indeed, another layer of the onion, and I've mastered (my thinking) the last layer, and am ready to tackle this layer. But just like sitting trot seemed overwhelming, and heels down seemed overwhelming, and leg yield seemed overwhelming, this new layer of the onion is a whole new world. Which, I have to say, is one of the coolest things about riding.
And then second is just how much easier and more delightful it is to ride when I keep Willig "bundled". And that I can "bundle" him but still do a trot lengthening or a medium (well, try to) trot. I don't have to let him fling out and splay around, and it is so, so, so much easier on my lower back!
And third is to keep pushing it. Because I can consistently leg yield him, now let's take it up a notch and leg yield with impulsion. And then leg yield with impulsion and with the shoulder-in. Keep it challenging for both of us.
It was a great ride with a lot to chew on. Mike said as I work on all these things, they'll gradually become part of the repetoire, and then we'll be able to add more.
We started with working on the sitting trot with the "trampoline seat" and an internal metronome to switch from a regular trot to a working trot and back. I can ask for a bigger trot, but unless I think "1-2-1-2" to myself, we just speed up and flop onto the forehand. When I think "1-2" instead, he begins to lift up, and while the trot gets bigger (and yes, a little faster), it isn't as hard to sit as a racing on the forehand medium trot.
Then we worked on the canter, thinking the same thing - maintaining his connection into the canter (by slowing down the trot and then WAITING for him instead of flinging into the aid like a spaz (me)), and then lifting into trot, not plummeting down on the forehand. We also did a bit of using the outside leg to move him onto a 10 meter circle, and then maintain the canter (hard work for him) on the little circle.
As if that didn't fill my head with enough, then we did a few minutes of asking for connection - wiggling both rains erratically(right 3 shakes, left 7 shakes, right 4 shakes, both together, etc.) to get his attention and connection. Then I did the same walking, and then added leg shaking which was truly a feat of multi-tasking. And then, because Mike couldn't see the steam coming out of my ears with my poor brain trying so hard to juggle that much, he added picking up the trot. The goal was Willig, moving forward nicely, but maintaining his connection. The secondary goal was to begin to train my brain to focus on more things at once, so that when we eventually learn flying changes, and it is an inside leg, outside leg, hip, shoulder, hand aid - all at once - I'll have the multi-tasking ability to do it.
Then we went to lateral work, doing leg yields, and then leg yields that turned into shoulder-in. This helps to engage his hind leg, but also helps me with my aids (these were kind of ugly - we got the job done but it wasn't pretty) and not using my leg further back for leg yield or allowing him to bend too much in shoulder-in, but instead, really engage his outside hind leg.
Then we took the lateral work, added canter, and shifted my shoulders to the outside, which made Willig's hindquarters go to the inside, and then to the inside, which made them (sort of) go to the outside. He moved more naturally (most horses do, apparently) to the inside.
*Note - trampoline seat can be done from a slightly forward jumping seat (like a hunter seat), and doesn't need a leaning-back driving seat. The driving seat kind of drives Willig to dive down on his forehand, while, kind of contrary to my common sense at least, the slightly tilted forward softer seat still "lifts" him on the forehand.
Then we went back to canter, not running forward on the up transition, not plummeting down in the down transition, and making a 10 meter circle.
The take-aways were that there is indeed, another layer of the onion, and I've mastered (my thinking) the last layer, and am ready to tackle this layer. But just like sitting trot seemed overwhelming, and heels down seemed overwhelming, and leg yield seemed overwhelming, this new layer of the onion is a whole new world. Which, I have to say, is one of the coolest things about riding.
And then second is just how much easier and more delightful it is to ride when I keep Willig "bundled". And that I can "bundle" him but still do a trot lengthening or a medium (well, try to) trot. I don't have to let him fling out and splay around, and it is so, so, so much easier on my lower back!
And third is to keep pushing it. Because I can consistently leg yield him, now let's take it up a notch and leg yield with impulsion. And then leg yield with impulsion and with the shoulder-in. Keep it challenging for both of us.
It was a great ride with a lot to chew on. Mike said as I work on all these things, they'll gradually become part of the repetoire, and then we'll be able to add more.
Saturday, September 03, 2011
Unicorns, rainbows, and starry-eyed bunnies
This is a post that is about my wonderful, best-hour-of-the-year (maybe decade) ride on Pablo this week.
Here's what I actually learned, other than that I can be completely and utterly present and happy on a horse:
- Something's off with my left leg. I think it's my hip, but I should probably figure this out before I waste too much more time blaming Willig.
- I need to learn to turn from the outside rein/outside hand.
- I don't know how to 'squeeze the toothpaste'. I think this is collection that I don't know how to do.
- I throw my hands forward after an up-aid.
Here's what I actually learned, other than that I can be completely and utterly present and happy on a horse:
- Something's off with my left leg. I think it's my hip, but I should probably figure this out before I waste too much more time blaming Willig.
- I need to learn to turn from the outside rein/outside hand.
- I don't know how to 'squeeze the toothpaste'. I think this is collection that I don't know how to do.
- I throw my hands forward after an up-aid.
Aspen Farms is a delight to volunteer for!
Although I got up at 5 am this morning, volunteering for Aspen Farms was so well run that I didn't grumble once.
First off - they feed you breakfast. Warm breakfast. French toast, bacon for you meat-eaters, yogurt, cereal, and coffee - when it's 48 degrees out this is AWESOME.
Then - they give you a shirt!
Then they gave me (at least) a super sweet location where I had almost no refusals but got to watch Training level horses have issues with the first water fence, and therefore - I learned SOOOOO much yet didn't have to write it down on the form!
Then I walked BN to scope it out for next year, which gave me some ideas (uh, we have to learn up-banks; and we need to work on oxers with some spread to them, and stick with the height (3') so the fences at the show seem puny).
Here's a few photos that looked brilliantly done on my iPhone screen, but not so much on the computer screen.
We also met a rider with a dachshund like Atom, and I asked her what she does with him when she rides. Answer: puts him in trailer (nothing else worked). So that seals it! Next year we'll camp and Atom will accompany me to shows.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
Willig's hives are back this year
He's got a smattering of them across his chest and neck, mostly. They're small but a few have the center depression, so he's starting on his blend of herbs today.
There was NO change in hay around this one.
There was NO change in hay around this one.
Face-splitting grin
Today I got to ride Pablo, Mike's Grand Prix horse, while Willig is in his second week of recovery. I was so excited and was asking around for tips, because I didn't want to embarrass myself and reveal that I actually have no idea what I'm doing. The consistent message was to relax; Pablo is so well trained that each tensing tells him to do something.
So of course this morning there was earth-shattering work news, and I was a nervous ball of tightly wound energy (ironically, what I noticed about Willig a few hours later on our trail ride), and I only got tighter knowing this was my ONE CHANCE to ride a horse like Pablo, and I was going to blow it by being the most tightly wound I can remember being.
Well, it turns out that a ride on Pablo undose the worst day of your professional life, and your breakup with your boyfriend, and also most of the unpleasantness of the last 5 - 10 - maybe even 20 years.
Hence, the face splitting grin.
It was incredible.
I could collect him by sitting smaller. I could bend him with the outside rein and hand. I could move from a collected trot to a medium trot by loosening my gut and opening my hands a bit. We did canter pirouettes. We did half passes. We did collected trot and piaffe and passage. We did medium trot. We did shoulder in and travers. We picked up the canter from the walk and collected the walk. We did flying changes!!!
And each movement - was like - divinity. I thought, and Pablo would do. Unless I was giving him weird-ass aids, like towards the end of the lesson when I got tense and started overthinking it and then couldn't get the right lead canter anymore. (Left lead? No problem. So this was also useful because Mike pointed out it was the opposite of the problem with Willig, and so it helps him pinpoint where in my body the aid is getting messed up.)
We would be doing something, and I would just be grinning and on 7th heaven, and Mike would have to say "Martha? Where are you going?" Because I was just ... riding, man. And enjoying every blissful second of it.
I could feel how to use my body to get the movement.
I could ride the movements without having to mess around and mess around.
I "got" how wiggly and twisty I am, because Pablo was like a big, giant mirror, reflecting how I push with my right leg so his haunches would swing enormous to the inside, and it was SO HARD to ride him straight, so my body is all jiggly and twisty.
It was a lot like being a kid in love with horses, and then finally, finally getting on one for the first time, and feeling like you've finally found the place you belong.
It's like the smell of the barn and the hay and horses chewing when you've had to be away for too long.
You just breathe and relax and love life and are present. I have never felt more relaxed and happy as an adult.
It was a wonderful, wonderful experience.
So of course this morning there was earth-shattering work news, and I was a nervous ball of tightly wound energy (ironically, what I noticed about Willig a few hours later on our trail ride), and I only got tighter knowing this was my ONE CHANCE to ride a horse like Pablo, and I was going to blow it by being the most tightly wound I can remember being.
Well, it turns out that a ride on Pablo undose the worst day of your professional life, and your breakup with your boyfriend, and also most of the unpleasantness of the last 5 - 10 - maybe even 20 years.
Hence, the face splitting grin.
It was incredible.
I could collect him by sitting smaller. I could bend him with the outside rein and hand. I could move from a collected trot to a medium trot by loosening my gut and opening my hands a bit. We did canter pirouettes. We did half passes. We did collected trot and piaffe and passage. We did medium trot. We did shoulder in and travers. We picked up the canter from the walk and collected the walk. We did flying changes!!!
And each movement - was like - divinity. I thought, and Pablo would do. Unless I was giving him weird-ass aids, like towards the end of the lesson when I got tense and started overthinking it and then couldn't get the right lead canter anymore. (Left lead? No problem. So this was also useful because Mike pointed out it was the opposite of the problem with Willig, and so it helps him pinpoint where in my body the aid is getting messed up.)
We would be doing something, and I would just be grinning and on 7th heaven, and Mike would have to say "Martha? Where are you going?" Because I was just ... riding, man. And enjoying every blissful second of it.
I could feel how to use my body to get the movement.
I could ride the movements without having to mess around and mess around.
I "got" how wiggly and twisty I am, because Pablo was like a big, giant mirror, reflecting how I push with my right leg so his haunches would swing enormous to the inside, and it was SO HARD to ride him straight, so my body is all jiggly and twisty.
It was a lot like being a kid in love with horses, and then finally, finally getting on one for the first time, and feeling like you've finally found the place you belong.
It's like the smell of the barn and the hay and horses chewing when you've had to be away for too long.
You just breathe and relax and love life and are present. I have never felt more relaxed and happy as an adult.
It was a wonderful, wonderful experience.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
11 days
I was getting all reflective about riding this morning on my drive in, because I'm getting really cranky without riding, and it's only been 11 days. When the vet said 3 days of stall rest and then 3 weeks off, I thought "well that's awesome, I'll go ahead and reactivate my gym membership and get at least 25 things done on my to do list with all that extra time" but instead I've mostly just been working.
And so I was thinking that without riding, my soul kind of shrivels up. Riding is the thing that nourishes me. It's more like water. I need it almost every day or else I start to fold in on myself and get sharp edges.
I was thinking about why - I spend so much time complaining and not being where I want to be, but the second that it's gone, I'm lost.
What's interesting about the conundrum is that it's the sport that - maybe - gives you the least control. If you want to run faster or longer, you train to run faster or longer. You might have a race when the pavement is wet, or you might trip, but it's really just you. Surfing is maybe closer - you can't control the waves and they each vary, but you and your board never change. Rock climbing is all you - but then you have the complexity of your climbing partner on the other end of the rope for all the time when you're not actually on the rock. For a rigid, inflexible, control-freak, perfectionist like myself, I think it's odd that I'd choose to spend all my time and money and apparently my 30s when I could be settling down, doing something that infuriates me because I can't control it - because Willig (or any horse) is his own self and responds in his own way, and requires constant adjustments and feelings.
But that's what all relationships are. Exasperation and frustration and guilt and effort and lots and lots of patience for the reward. You just can't TALK to Willig about it.
And this is why it was so hard for me to come back from the fall (well, the two in a row). It's a delicate balance for me as is. I need it, but I'm afraid of it because it's so contrary to my personality. It's the recognition that I'm not always 100% in control; that Willig, of all the horses I've had, is the most unpredictable. I don't know what kind of mood he'll be in each day (although, knock on leather, he's been more consistent and reliable before the break). And that - of all things - is what is hardest for me.
So it's a good life lesson. I have to learn to roll with it. It's just that rolling scares me. What if I start rolling and can't stop?
And so I was thinking that without riding, my soul kind of shrivels up. Riding is the thing that nourishes me. It's more like water. I need it almost every day or else I start to fold in on myself and get sharp edges.
I was thinking about why - I spend so much time complaining and not being where I want to be, but the second that it's gone, I'm lost.
What's interesting about the conundrum is that it's the sport that - maybe - gives you the least control. If you want to run faster or longer, you train to run faster or longer. You might have a race when the pavement is wet, or you might trip, but it's really just you. Surfing is maybe closer - you can't control the waves and they each vary, but you and your board never change. Rock climbing is all you - but then you have the complexity of your climbing partner on the other end of the rope for all the time when you're not actually on the rock. For a rigid, inflexible, control-freak, perfectionist like myself, I think it's odd that I'd choose to spend all my time and money and apparently my 30s when I could be settling down, doing something that infuriates me because I can't control it - because Willig (or any horse) is his own self and responds in his own way, and requires constant adjustments and feelings.
But that's what all relationships are. Exasperation and frustration and guilt and effort and lots and lots of patience for the reward. You just can't TALK to Willig about it.
And this is why it was so hard for me to come back from the fall (well, the two in a row). It's a delicate balance for me as is. I need it, but I'm afraid of it because it's so contrary to my personality. It's the recognition that I'm not always 100% in control; that Willig, of all the horses I've had, is the most unpredictable. I don't know what kind of mood he'll be in each day (although, knock on leather, he's been more consistent and reliable before the break). And that - of all things - is what is hardest for me.
So it's a good life lesson. I have to learn to roll with it. It's just that rolling scares me. What if I start rolling and can't stop?
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Three Miscellaneous Thoughts
I completely forgot to mention Willig's stumble to Dr. Revenaugh (this is me: "Duh. I have no idea what could have happened any time in the last two weeks that would make him lame on his right front ... like when he stumbled and came up lame on his right front. It's probably from that time he fell down six months ago and never went lame from it."). However, I'm going to go with the glass half full approach and hope that because Dr. R didn't find anything in his hind, it's just some muscle soreness that I'm feeling (why he appears to work out of it and it's inconsistent) and give him more horsey massages more regularly (that horsey massage class I took 10 years ago will finally pay off!). And that his right front, whether or not caused by something pre-existing, will heal with his injection and 3 weeks of easy work, and he'll be good as gold in a month and we'll have all winter to really train.
Also, when J rode him last week, she mentioned in her report (she's so great and I'm going to miss her so much!) that he had a "nasty stop". Since she was like #1 in the nation and came in 2nd place at the national champs, I couldn't even begin to imagine what she would call a "nasty" stop. (She's also remarkably cool about stuff that I would put multiple exclamation points after in a blog post.) I was so curious I asked her, and she said at the "big" oxer we did in our last lesson, she thought they were jumping it, but then they were off to the right. He just did one of his infamous Willig hyperspeed run-outs. So that type of "nasty" I am all too intimately familiar with - it didn't exceed my imagination at all. It is a nasty habit though, that I'm not sure how to break (the spurs worked wonders, and will need further testing). (And I'm going to hope they came back because he was feeling a bit off and didn't have another way to express it. And continuing with the glass half full, praise him for being pretty much a trooper and not acting worse.)
Today I was at Caber, trying to volunteer to be a xc jump judge, and I got to watch the senior Novice riders for a while. This was very illuminating. Most (not all, but more than half) of the horses starting zigged and zagged on their way to the first fence while they got their bearings. This really surprised me because for some reason I assumed that was a Willig habit only. A few (not many, less than a handful of the ones I watched) were pretty nasty about it, which Willig never is. And these are horses going novice! With adults on them! The riders were also not as balanced as I would have expected for novice, and one fence in particular (#2, a big coop with some brush on top - we jumped it at the last derby) they seemed to have a hard time taking off at the right spot so I got to see the riders trying to adjust. Now, before my head gets too big, I'm pretty sure that anyone watching me would think the same thing, although I need more pictures (and video) as proof to myself. Particularly anyone watching me labor around that show jumping course.
But it gave me hope that maybe my perfectionism and the work we've been doing with Willig will have us ready (now for next year) to really tackle BN next year and not embarass ourselves too much. And being hopeful used to be in short supply and lately, the past few months, I've really been getting excited about him. Which means, of course, three weeks of walking is what our near future holds.
Also, when J rode him last week, she mentioned in her report (she's so great and I'm going to miss her so much!) that he had a "nasty stop". Since she was like #1 in the nation and came in 2nd place at the national champs, I couldn't even begin to imagine what she would call a "nasty" stop. (She's also remarkably cool about stuff that I would put multiple exclamation points after in a blog post.) I was so curious I asked her, and she said at the "big" oxer we did in our last lesson, she thought they were jumping it, but then they were off to the right. He just did one of his infamous Willig hyperspeed run-outs. So that type of "nasty" I am all too intimately familiar with - it didn't exceed my imagination at all. It is a nasty habit though, that I'm not sure how to break (the spurs worked wonders, and will need further testing). (And I'm going to hope they came back because he was feeling a bit off and didn't have another way to express it. And continuing with the glass half full, praise him for being pretty much a trooper and not acting worse.)
Today I was at Caber, trying to volunteer to be a xc jump judge, and I got to watch the senior Novice riders for a while. This was very illuminating. Most (not all, but more than half) of the horses starting zigged and zagged on their way to the first fence while they got their bearings. This really surprised me because for some reason I assumed that was a Willig habit only. A few (not many, less than a handful of the ones I watched) were pretty nasty about it, which Willig never is. And these are horses going novice! With adults on them! The riders were also not as balanced as I would have expected for novice, and one fence in particular (#2, a big coop with some brush on top - we jumped it at the last derby) they seemed to have a hard time taking off at the right spot so I got to see the riders trying to adjust. Now, before my head gets too big, I'm pretty sure that anyone watching me would think the same thing, although I need more pictures (and video) as proof to myself. Particularly anyone watching me labor around that show jumping course.
But it gave me hope that maybe my perfectionism and the work we've been doing with Willig will have us ready (now for next year) to really tackle BN next year and not embarass ourselves too much. And being hopeful used to be in short supply and lately, the past few months, I've really been getting excited about him. Which means, of course, three weeks of walking is what our near future holds.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Lesson on Mardi
Because Willig was beginning his three days of stall rest, I rode a fellow boarder's horse for my lesson. Mardi is a little cutie, but I think he's a couple hands smaller than Willig and he's much wider across his back.
At first, I kind of flailed around. It's weird how hard it was to ride someone who moved so differently than Willig. But after a few minutes, I got the hang of it and managed to adjust.
We did our basic 1st level movements, and while he was very different to ride and still needed work, in a lot of ways he was much easier. I've been trying to think how to describe it. He was like rowing in a calm lake. Willig is like being on water skis on the open ocean in a storm.
Now, the silver lining for Willig, mentioned by Mike before, is that he is so sensitive that when you have his attention on you (instead of the wall, spot, noise, outside, other horse, wall again!, etc.) and you're riding upper level tests (which I don't know how to do yet), you need that kind of delicate-doing-something-every-step reaction.
But for today, it was fun to ride someone new. I still had to work on mostly the same things (rounder, more consistent connection, better bend, relax my legs down), but just in a different way.
Since Willig will not be back to work for three weeks, Mike said for my next lesson I could probably ride one of his horses! COOL!
At first, I kind of flailed around. It's weird how hard it was to ride someone who moved so differently than Willig. But after a few minutes, I got the hang of it and managed to adjust.
We did our basic 1st level movements, and while he was very different to ride and still needed work, in a lot of ways he was much easier. I've been trying to think how to describe it. He was like rowing in a calm lake. Willig is like being on water skis on the open ocean in a storm.
Now, the silver lining for Willig, mentioned by Mike before, is that he is so sensitive that when you have his attention on you (instead of the wall, spot, noise, outside, other horse, wall again!, etc.) and you're riding upper level tests (which I don't know how to do yet), you need that kind of delicate-doing-something-every-step reaction.
But for today, it was fun to ride someone new. I still had to work on mostly the same things (rounder, more consistent connection, better bend, relax my legs down), but just in a different way.
Since Willig will not be back to work for three weeks, Mike said for my next lesson I could probably ride one of his horses! COOL!
Coffin Joint Injection
Willig's very slight intermittent lameness (that has gotten a little bit more frequent, although not worse - he almost always works out of it after a few minutes and it's been so mellow I haven't been able to isolate it) was a "wowza" on one of the flexion tests. We got x-rays, and he's got a touch of arthritis and some changes to his coffin bone, but nothing broken or that looks like navicular.
He's getting three days of stall rest with bute and a big bandage and hand walking, then three weeks of hand walking or gentle walk riding.
And if it gets better, then we'll be happy and I'll give him apples and kiss him.
He must be kind of a trooper to have not really let on that this was going on. I think it's been slowly building for at least a few months. Bad Mom. Bad.
He's getting three days of stall rest with bute and a big bandage and hand walking, then three weeks of hand walking or gentle walk riding.
And if it gets better, then we'll be happy and I'll give him apples and kiss him.
He must be kind of a trooper to have not really let on that this was going on. I think it's been slowly building for at least a few months. Bad Mom. Bad.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Perspective
A p.s. on my lesson. Shannon said that yes, at NWEC, Willig was being a bit of a pill and running out at the last possible second. She said he's really quick, and sometimes it seemed like he did it as he lifted to jump.
He has two kinds of run-out. The one where's he jiggy from the moment he sees the fence and gets jiggier as we approach it and I do nothing and eventually he runs out.
And then he has his "alternate-universe" run-outs where he's so fast I have no idea what happened.
It was a huge relief to me to know that he was doing alternate-universe run-outs at NWEC because I started to feel like a moron - I couldn't feel it coming - didn't know why I couldn't - but expected it - and then it still took me by surprise.
Shannon said if she'd been able to see them (and she was watching for them) she would have been yelling at me, but they were so fast and sudden, she didn't even have time to yell.
Now, that's not adding $5,000 to Willig's value or anything, but it does help me understand what's going on a little better.
WHY he gets in that mood? I don't know. Yet.
He has two kinds of run-out. The one where's he jiggy from the moment he sees the fence and gets jiggier as we approach it and I do nothing and eventually he runs out.
And then he has his "alternate-universe" run-outs where he's so fast I have no idea what happened.
It was a huge relief to me to know that he was doing alternate-universe run-outs at NWEC because I started to feel like a moron - I couldn't feel it coming - didn't know why I couldn't - but expected it - and then it still took me by surprise.
Shannon said if she'd been able to see them (and she was watching for them) she would have been yelling at me, but they were so fast and sudden, she didn't even have time to yell.
Now, that's not adding $5,000 to Willig's value or anything, but it does help me understand what's going on a little better.
WHY he gets in that mood? I don't know. Yet.
Some reflections
Willig has an appointment with Dr. Revenaugh this week for his intermittent and very slight lameness, but I want to make sure that the running out and the lead changing isn't because something hurts. When I was looking back through this year's blog posts for mentions of it, it helped me to see the glass as half full - something I'm not particularly good at.
Almost a year ago, I did my first First level test at the sitting trot, and was ecstatic. This year, I can do one loop serpentines, have started collecting, can do this teeny 5-8 meter circle at the canter, can do walk/canter transitions, can lengthen, can do leg yields and shoulder-in - and none of that is a big deal at the sitting trot. I might not be at the top of my class, but this is really my first year riding first level, so that's actually pretty cool.
Especially because the entire show season pretty much sucked personally for me - too much stress at work and home, and not enough riding, even though the barn is always my refuge.
Not quite a year ago, I rode hopeful only a couple of times (three maybe?) and was tired and embarrassed riding it as old as I am and as big as Willig is, but thought this was going to be another year of not showing or having to suck it up and ride hopeful. And yet we've ridden BN and, most importantly, HAD FUN (!!!). Last year I thought the BN fences looked huge and impossible, and this year (other than the stupid ditch), even Novice looks ok.
I wasn't willing to give up eventing without a fight, but I wasn't sure that Shannon was going to be able to pull me out of my funk, and from what we were jumping a year ago to now - wow. (Also, a lot of this is also attributable to J's riding Willig once a week.)
And so yes, this was another year when I didn't get to do quite as much as I planned to do - now 3 years ago - when I got Willig. But I'm a much better rider than I was last year (and that's what really counts - even if I had to adjust what I thought I needed to get there), and I've learned a tremendous amount. At the beginning of the year, I gave up on Willig and listed him for sale, but that sort of set me free to let go of my expectations for him and just ride him the way he needed it - and that let me be open to the stuff I needed to learn with him. Yes, I would have achieved my goals faster if I bought a horse that fit me where I wanted to be 4 years ago, but then I wouldn't have learned all this cool stuff. (Plus, think of all the money Willig saved me by not being ready to go to most of the competitions! That's sarcasm.)
Anyway - so then I was thinking on the drive home, what else can I do?
Well, I need more time and money. If I could take one lesson a week, instead of every other week, from both Mike and Shannon, that would help tremendously. I don't know when I'll ever have the time for that.
Then if I could take him more places. Again, time and money.
Then if I could watch more of other riders - good ones and bad ones. Learn from other people's mistakes and see what a good collection looks like. This one is the most doable - I can watch videos of professionals, and I can hang out at lessons and listen, and volunteer at shows. Auditing is a little harder, but cheaper than riding myself.
And of course, then all the stuff we've been working on which just means more hours riding and less hours doing other things. My goal is to keep jumping him twice and week and riding him dressage four days through winter - giving him one day off (and me spending that day at the gym).
We'll see how far that brings us for next year this time. I hope it means we'll be placing at First level, schooling Second level reliably at home, placing at BN, and schooling Novice reliably.
Almost a year ago, I did my first First level test at the sitting trot, and was ecstatic. This year, I can do one loop serpentines, have started collecting, can do this teeny 5-8 meter circle at the canter, can do walk/canter transitions, can lengthen, can do leg yields and shoulder-in - and none of that is a big deal at the sitting trot. I might not be at the top of my class, but this is really my first year riding first level, so that's actually pretty cool.
Especially because the entire show season pretty much sucked personally for me - too much stress at work and home, and not enough riding, even though the barn is always my refuge.
Not quite a year ago, I rode hopeful only a couple of times (three maybe?) and was tired and embarrassed riding it as old as I am and as big as Willig is, but thought this was going to be another year of not showing or having to suck it up and ride hopeful. And yet we've ridden BN and, most importantly, HAD FUN (!!!). Last year I thought the BN fences looked huge and impossible, and this year (other than the stupid ditch), even Novice looks ok.
I wasn't willing to give up eventing without a fight, but I wasn't sure that Shannon was going to be able to pull me out of my funk, and from what we were jumping a year ago to now - wow. (Also, a lot of this is also attributable to J's riding Willig once a week.)
And so yes, this was another year when I didn't get to do quite as much as I planned to do - now 3 years ago - when I got Willig. But I'm a much better rider than I was last year (and that's what really counts - even if I had to adjust what I thought I needed to get there), and I've learned a tremendous amount. At the beginning of the year, I gave up on Willig and listed him for sale, but that sort of set me free to let go of my expectations for him and just ride him the way he needed it - and that let me be open to the stuff I needed to learn with him. Yes, I would have achieved my goals faster if I bought a horse that fit me where I wanted to be 4 years ago, but then I wouldn't have learned all this cool stuff. (Plus, think of all the money Willig saved me by not being ready to go to most of the competitions! That's sarcasm.)
Anyway - so then I was thinking on the drive home, what else can I do?
Well, I need more time and money. If I could take one lesson a week, instead of every other week, from both Mike and Shannon, that would help tremendously. I don't know when I'll ever have the time for that.
Then if I could take him more places. Again, time and money.
Then if I could watch more of other riders - good ones and bad ones. Learn from other people's mistakes and see what a good collection looks like. This one is the most doable - I can watch videos of professionals, and I can hang out at lessons and listen, and volunteer at shows. Auditing is a little harder, but cheaper than riding myself.
And of course, then all the stuff we've been working on which just means more hours riding and less hours doing other things. My goal is to keep jumping him twice and week and riding him dressage four days through winter - giving him one day off (and me spending that day at the gym).
We'll see how far that brings us for next year this time. I hope it means we'll be placing at First level, schooling Second level reliably at home, placing at BN, and schooling Novice reliably.
Spurs are my new friends
Shannon pulled out some honkin' spurs today (honkin' to me, after my THREE total times of wearing spurs - and the teeny tiny baby ones at that) after I foolishly said he didn't seem to respond at all to the baby ones. They were maybe an inch, and soft little round ends.
We went outside, and started warming up, where I showed her my idea of 'collection' and asked whether it was really. The answer, as I suspected from my dressage comments, is "no". She had a very simple solution - get some of my rides taped and watch them. If she's not there, watch them with her (or with Mike) later. Because what I feel (think back to "sitting up straight" for dressage seat) might not (likely IS not) accurate, and I have to see it - either in a mirror or on tape or in a photo, to really understand.
We started with a cross rail and worked on some 'close' distances - a ground pole on either side that Shannon inched in so he'd have to make himself more compact. He was in a pretty easy going mood today, so he was barely looking at the spooky stuff (the barrel sitting on top of the wall, the wadded up tarp). He was fine, but I couldn't get the right lead over the fence.
That's because I BARELY (like maybe an inch) put my leg back when I "ask" for it. And since Willig isn't a mind reader ...
Then we set up a little course. He refused the skinny. So then I used the honkin' spurs, and that's when I fell in love with them. My new BFFs.
I can twist my ankle faster than I can kick (who knows why) and so when he gives me a jig a couple strides out, I can twist my ankle on the jiggy side (usually the right) and then he straightens out again and goes over the fence. Eureka!
Shannon was also telling me to growl at him, and, like a bored teenager trying to get a kid to fall asleep by reading a book in the most boring tone possible, I'd say "grrr" in this weird, flat, monotone. Like a computer or robot reading the word "grrrr" only more boring and not funny. She was happy at least I made a noise, but it was a really stupid noise. I guess it was kind of funny, after the fact.
So he did ok on the course (we did it a couple times), but she had made it kind of small since he was such a ding bat at NWEC schooling (the last time I jumped), and so then she raised everything and added this decent oxer. I was carefully eyeing her when she was setting it up (to make sure it was hip height, not belly button height) and it was fine (top of hip) but then when we got further away, I noticed it had a "decent" spread (2'?) and it looked much, much bigger without her standing next to it. I was trying not to be a wimp, and she suggested I jump it with my eyes closed (which seemed worse than jumping it looking at it) so when I came around the corner towards it, I made myself breathe in and out and ... he just sailed over it. I even had the angle a bit funny, instead of facing it square, we jumped it like a corner, and good lord that horse can jump.
Shannon said my leg position is loads better, and she liked that I got him collected right up and headed towards the next fence in just a couple strides - instead of flailing about (my word) for half the arena. This is from last lesson - the 1-2-1-2 on the way to the fence keeps him together so that we don't rush at it, then land rushing.
So in addition to that big one (which is very wise, and I get that if I jump stuff like that (big, spread, skinny, ditch, corner, wall) at home, when I see it at the show, it will be smaller and I'll know I can do harder and so I'll be confident and have fun instead of pushing my upper limit, but each step up still makes me a bit nervous), she's also working on my position between fences now. Like we did at NWEC, sit in a three point until about 10 strides out, then lean back a bit, then sit up just a couple strides before the fence. This also requires some trusting of him, with my hands pressed into his neck, that is REALLY hard for me to do, and then that sitting up also adds the kick/jab if he's jiggy, which is also hard for me to do but I'm not as sure why (I'm afraid he'll buck on the landing?).
Anyway, it was a great lesson and a huge confidence builder, although when I was sure we were close to over time (so sure, I asked her), we were actually only a half hour in. Ha!
Afterwards, I went on a trail ride with my friend K, and we even trotted a bit. There was a lady walking her dog on the other side of the woods, and normally, that would have sent Willig over the edge (she kept coming in and out of view and stepping on sticks and stuff), but today he held it together pretty well.
We went outside, and started warming up, where I showed her my idea of 'collection' and asked whether it was really. The answer, as I suspected from my dressage comments, is "no". She had a very simple solution - get some of my rides taped and watch them. If she's not there, watch them with her (or with Mike) later. Because what I feel (think back to "sitting up straight" for dressage seat) might not (likely IS not) accurate, and I have to see it - either in a mirror or on tape or in a photo, to really understand.
We started with a cross rail and worked on some 'close' distances - a ground pole on either side that Shannon inched in so he'd have to make himself more compact. He was in a pretty easy going mood today, so he was barely looking at the spooky stuff (the barrel sitting on top of the wall, the wadded up tarp). He was fine, but I couldn't get the right lead over the fence.
That's because I BARELY (like maybe an inch) put my leg back when I "ask" for it. And since Willig isn't a mind reader ...
Then we set up a little course. He refused the skinny. So then I used the honkin' spurs, and that's when I fell in love with them. My new BFFs.
I can twist my ankle faster than I can kick (who knows why) and so when he gives me a jig a couple strides out, I can twist my ankle on the jiggy side (usually the right) and then he straightens out again and goes over the fence. Eureka!
Shannon was also telling me to growl at him, and, like a bored teenager trying to get a kid to fall asleep by reading a book in the most boring tone possible, I'd say "grrr" in this weird, flat, monotone. Like a computer or robot reading the word "grrrr" only more boring and not funny. She was happy at least I made a noise, but it was a really stupid noise. I guess it was kind of funny, after the fact.
So he did ok on the course (we did it a couple times), but she had made it kind of small since he was such a ding bat at NWEC schooling (the last time I jumped), and so then she raised everything and added this decent oxer. I was carefully eyeing her when she was setting it up (to make sure it was hip height, not belly button height) and it was fine (top of hip) but then when we got further away, I noticed it had a "decent" spread (2'?) and it looked much, much bigger without her standing next to it. I was trying not to be a wimp, and she suggested I jump it with my eyes closed (which seemed worse than jumping it looking at it) so when I came around the corner towards it, I made myself breathe in and out and ... he just sailed over it. I even had the angle a bit funny, instead of facing it square, we jumped it like a corner, and good lord that horse can jump.
Shannon said my leg position is loads better, and she liked that I got him collected right up and headed towards the next fence in just a couple strides - instead of flailing about (my word) for half the arena. This is from last lesson - the 1-2-1-2 on the way to the fence keeps him together so that we don't rush at it, then land rushing.
So in addition to that big one (which is very wise, and I get that if I jump stuff like that (big, spread, skinny, ditch, corner, wall) at home, when I see it at the show, it will be smaller and I'll know I can do harder and so I'll be confident and have fun instead of pushing my upper limit, but each step up still makes me a bit nervous), she's also working on my position between fences now. Like we did at NWEC, sit in a three point until about 10 strides out, then lean back a bit, then sit up just a couple strides before the fence. This also requires some trusting of him, with my hands pressed into his neck, that is REALLY hard for me to do, and then that sitting up also adds the kick/jab if he's jiggy, which is also hard for me to do but I'm not as sure why (I'm afraid he'll buck on the landing?).
Anyway, it was a great lesson and a huge confidence builder, although when I was sure we were close to over time (so sure, I asked her), we were actually only a half hour in. Ha!
Afterwards, I went on a trail ride with my friend K, and we even trotted a bit. There was a lady walking her dog on the other side of the woods, and normally, that would have sent Willig over the edge (she kept coming in and out of view and stepping on sticks and stuff), but today he held it together pretty well.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Motivational Willig Jumping Quote
"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear."
- Ambrose Redmoon
- Ambrose Redmoon
Willig's dressage scores this year - we're consistently on the low end
First level Test 1 (we only rode once)
4/16: 58.276
First level Test 2
4/16: 57.838
6/25: 60.270
6/26: 61.892
7/31: 56.216
8/7: 56.486
8/13: 63.243
First level Test 3
6/25: 57.742
6/26: 60.323
7/31: 50.645
8/7: 56.452
8/13: 59.355
4/16: 58.276
First level Test 2
4/16: 57.838
6/25: 60.270
6/26: 61.892
7/31: 56.216
8/7: 56.486
8/13: 63.243
First level Test 3
6/25: 57.742
6/26: 60.323
7/31: 50.645
8/7: 56.452
8/13: 59.355
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Like an electron, you can know where Willig is or where he's going
But not both at the same time. Continuing with the Willig or Anti-willig from last post, he started this morning in an extreme Anti-Willig mood. He did not want his mane braided, he did not want to be in the cross-ties, he did not want to be groomed. And then we got to the show and he was mr. nicey pants.
Mr. Nicey Pants, however, is a consistent (for this entire year) 56%, which I think sucks.
On Test 1-2, he got a 56.486%. He was humming along, actually performing well (6s, 7s), got a couple of 5s, then a bee flew in his ear - he shook his head - the bee flew out - he darted to the right, and - unfelt by me - changed his lead. So we got a 4 for the lead change (no mention of the bee - we were on the far corner from the judge), then a 2 (double coefficient) and another 2 because I didn't feel that damn change when we skittered sideways with a bee in his ear. That is kudos to Willig for being such an athlete I could ride the end of a movement and two more without noticing the wrong lead. And big frownies for me for not feeling that and correcting it. And super kudos for Willig for not going ballistic with a bee in his ear.
Then for 1-3, I was like "wow - Willig really pulled that one out" - there were a couple wobbles, but nothing major (until the end lengthening, when just before K he stumbled, acted like he was lame around the corner, then had a miraculous recovery for the centerline). And he did this ... while there was some sort of "can-we-make-these-guns-as-loud-as-fireworks" going on next door. They started shooting pretty much when our test started, and then intensified the volume and quantity of shots to the point where I started laughing while I was riding (Willig was a champ - didn't even flinch!) and it just kept up until we finished, then they quit. And other than tha stumble? Pretty smooth.
But no. My feeling of smooth is not Smooth. This was 6s, 7s, and a whole lot of 5s.
So I'm frustrated. I felt like we pulled a couple of 8s in both those tests, but we clearly did not. And these scores have been consistent all year, so I'm not doing something, but I don't know what it is.
Here's our two lousy pictures. A horrible one of us, and one of my stock tie done cute by our friend.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
Will it be Willig ... or Anti-Willig?
Willig means "willing" (roughly) in German. When I bought him, his name was Willy, and I had a German trainer, and Willy makes me think of those silly willies, so I kept the pronunciation mostly the same (i.e. not in Deutsch) and went with something that meant more to me.
So the "anti" in the title is when Willig is in one of his moods. Which he was when we went to school at NWEC yesterday. Now, when Willig is in one of his moods and I have a trainer, we learn tons and tons of stuff. But it's not fun.
Here are the high points:
Ride 2-point in between fences. About 10 strides out, sit up a bit. About 2 strides out, sit the rest of the way up.
The down bank is seat-glued-to-saddle. Question: How do you do that without ripping Willig's face? Answer: (did not come to me on my own, despite being told it last schooling) Let the reins out. Open your fingers. But not if he's in a bucky mood, then, just rip him in the face.
Ditches are still Willig's foes. Willig-eaters, he thinks. As an aside, today, in a halter with a long lead line, we spent - I don't know - 15 minutes? - jumping the one at home. That mostly consisted of me jumping back and forth and back and forth on my sprained ankle while he watched. But eventually, he got it. And by "got it", I mean he would exaggeratedly rock back, then lurch forward like a rocket with the propulsion system set too high - stumble furiously on the far side - and then vigorously eat grass like nothing happened.
Pull him the OPPOSITE way of the way he is trying to dart out. If he's trying to go right, pull left. Not pull right so he makes a circle to the right. (This is very, very heavily ingrained in me. I finally got it correct a couple of times, but only after Shannon had the opportunity to say it, oh, approximately 25 times.)
Growl, kick, click, whip, WHATEVER, just do something on the way to the fence when he is hesitating. I got one pitiful click and Shannon whooped with joy - at this enormous old growth log that I swear was 3' around. The time before he had refused it, managing to run out PAST a second old growth (even bigger), before I yanked left (we were going right) and then we clambered over it. Clambered. My friend's mom said he kind of had to tippy toe with his back feet on the log. (But to say something nice about Willig, he hopped right in and out of their trailer like he's a trailer king. Theirs is a 4-star and I really like it compared to mine, which now has peeling paint.)
When Willig is in a naughty/bucky/disobedient/lazy mood, he has to work harder to not jump the fences than to just go over them already. (He was the opposite of our Caber xc ride and our last schooling at NWEC and our last schooling at home. So he fooled me into thinking he was over himself and we were just going to jump from now on.) He might have to gallop. He might have to make a 10 meter canter circle. He might have to do some crazy leg yielding. But in all of this - I ride with my hands pushed into his neck just in front of the breastplate.
And here is the miraculous discovery, that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been being such a shit. I let go - about two strides out I completely let go of the reins - I put them up on his neck in anticipation of the fence (I don't jump ahead, I just go ahead and shove my hands up) and ... THAT'S HOW HE'S ALWAYS RUNNING OUT.
Duh.
Now - I have my reasons for doing this, but the common sense effect, and the whole "why does he keep running out?" question never connected these for me, until Shannon told me to clamp my hands, and I was like "well then how do I let go before the fence?" and to her credit, she didn't laugh out loud at me.
What else? Willig can jump big jumps. The bigger the jump, the easier he is to ride (in the air). It's easier to balance and not jump ahead if he's jumping something that he actually puts some effort into. This has been dawning on me, but got cemented over that old growth log. The part where we take off and are in the air and landing - piece of cake and like heaven. The part a few strides out and a few strides after still needs work. But my lord, the flying part - I don't want to do anything else with my life but keep improving so I can do that more.
Three people had told me he had been bucking in the stall that morning, but I was so excited about going to school that I ignored it. (Another huge thing disguised there. I have pretty much hated jumping for the last 2 years, and for the last 6 months, that hate has been turning back into love. Thanks to Shannon.) And then he started out terrified of the woods, running out over utility pole sized fences, charging the fences, and taking off afterwards. Then, horrors, some people walked by on the trail, and that's when he started the bucking, and did this rodeo routine in a circle for a while.
The good news? I'm not scared of the fences (except the ditch) anymore, or the heights, and I'm not scared of falling off because my position and my "toolkit" are so much better than they were last year.
The bad news? I still can't get him over fences when *I* want him to go over them without a lot of struggle and a lot of instructions yelled from Shannon. It must be exhausting for her to teach me. I am so slow to respond and then I immediately do it wrong the very next time, with the very same clues ahead of time.
So he was refusing, bucking (little bucks), etc. and then we did the ditch a few lengths behind our friend, and victory was ours! He just lept right over it! And then just as quickly, we were snatched from the jaws of victory into the stronghold of defeat because he stumbled, went down on his knees (nothing to do with the ditch), and then came up lame on his right front leg. Which he held out, shaking, until he saw the tractor, then he forgot he was lame to look at the tractor. So we tried the ditch again after a few laps of checking him out - no victory in sight. After a couple tries, Shannon sent us back to the baby ditch (the bank) to do it by ourselves (that alone was a small triumph for me), then back to the ditch behind our friend. Nope. He was wise to the evil tricky ways of the ditch. So then I got off, so Shannon could lead him over it. He hesitated, looking, lept huge, and lept so huge she had to let go of the reins, which he almost immediately stepped on, broke, and then started to trot back to the trailer - just slow enough to taunt us. Well, my friend's mom thought fast, pulled a granola bar out of her pocket, and the rascal turned around and came back for the granola bar. Then we made one long rein, which worked great for his super-launches, and Shannon led him over the ditch over and over (which begs the question why the one at home was such a huge deal with me today). And we quit on that.
It was very, very educational.
What I can't decide on are the three remaining recognized shows. While I think he isn't going to improve any riding at home, with timid me, I think it might be too much for this year. I think I'm going to ride the remaining derby, volunteer at the next two shows, and then hopefully ride the final show of the year. And then we'll work hard all winter to be ready for as much as we can afford next spring. Because I don't think we'll be bringing home many $300 ribbons. But the year after that ... we'll be rock stars.
So the "anti" in the title is when Willig is in one of his moods. Which he was when we went to school at NWEC yesterday. Now, when Willig is in one of his moods and I have a trainer, we learn tons and tons of stuff. But it's not fun.
Here are the high points:
Ride 2-point in between fences. About 10 strides out, sit up a bit. About 2 strides out, sit the rest of the way up.
The down bank is seat-glued-to-saddle. Question: How do you do that without ripping Willig's face? Answer: (did not come to me on my own, despite being told it last schooling) Let the reins out. Open your fingers. But not if he's in a bucky mood, then, just rip him in the face.
Ditches are still Willig's foes. Willig-eaters, he thinks. As an aside, today, in a halter with a long lead line, we spent - I don't know - 15 minutes? - jumping the one at home. That mostly consisted of me jumping back and forth and back and forth on my sprained ankle while he watched. But eventually, he got it. And by "got it", I mean he would exaggeratedly rock back, then lurch forward like a rocket with the propulsion system set too high - stumble furiously on the far side - and then vigorously eat grass like nothing happened.
Pull him the OPPOSITE way of the way he is trying to dart out. If he's trying to go right, pull left. Not pull right so he makes a circle to the right. (This is very, very heavily ingrained in me. I finally got it correct a couple of times, but only after Shannon had the opportunity to say it, oh, approximately 25 times.)
Growl, kick, click, whip, WHATEVER, just do something on the way to the fence when he is hesitating. I got one pitiful click and Shannon whooped with joy - at this enormous old growth log that I swear was 3' around. The time before he had refused it, managing to run out PAST a second old growth (even bigger), before I yanked left (we were going right) and then we clambered over it. Clambered. My friend's mom said he kind of had to tippy toe with his back feet on the log. (But to say something nice about Willig, he hopped right in and out of their trailer like he's a trailer king. Theirs is a 4-star and I really like it compared to mine, which now has peeling paint.)
When Willig is in a naughty/bucky/disobedient/lazy mood, he has to work harder to not jump the fences than to just go over them already. (He was the opposite of our Caber xc ride and our last schooling at NWEC and our last schooling at home. So he fooled me into thinking he was over himself and we were just going to jump from now on.) He might have to gallop. He might have to make a 10 meter canter circle. He might have to do some crazy leg yielding. But in all of this - I ride with my hands pushed into his neck just in front of the breastplate.
And here is the miraculous discovery, that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been being such a shit. I let go - about two strides out I completely let go of the reins - I put them up on his neck in anticipation of the fence (I don't jump ahead, I just go ahead and shove my hands up) and ... THAT'S HOW HE'S ALWAYS RUNNING OUT.
Duh.
Now - I have my reasons for doing this, but the common sense effect, and the whole "why does he keep running out?" question never connected these for me, until Shannon told me to clamp my hands, and I was like "well then how do I let go before the fence?" and to her credit, she didn't laugh out loud at me.
What else? Willig can jump big jumps. The bigger the jump, the easier he is to ride (in the air). It's easier to balance and not jump ahead if he's jumping something that he actually puts some effort into. This has been dawning on me, but got cemented over that old growth log. The part where we take off and are in the air and landing - piece of cake and like heaven. The part a few strides out and a few strides after still needs work. But my lord, the flying part - I don't want to do anything else with my life but keep improving so I can do that more.
Three people had told me he had been bucking in the stall that morning, but I was so excited about going to school that I ignored it. (Another huge thing disguised there. I have pretty much hated jumping for the last 2 years, and for the last 6 months, that hate has been turning back into love. Thanks to Shannon.) And then he started out terrified of the woods, running out over utility pole sized fences, charging the fences, and taking off afterwards. Then, horrors, some people walked by on the trail, and that's when he started the bucking, and did this rodeo routine in a circle for a while.
The good news? I'm not scared of the fences (except the ditch) anymore, or the heights, and I'm not scared of falling off because my position and my "toolkit" are so much better than they were last year.
The bad news? I still can't get him over fences when *I* want him to go over them without a lot of struggle and a lot of instructions yelled from Shannon. It must be exhausting for her to teach me. I am so slow to respond and then I immediately do it wrong the very next time, with the very same clues ahead of time.
So he was refusing, bucking (little bucks), etc. and then we did the ditch a few lengths behind our friend, and victory was ours! He just lept right over it! And then just as quickly, we were snatched from the jaws of victory into the stronghold of defeat because he stumbled, went down on his knees (nothing to do with the ditch), and then came up lame on his right front leg. Which he held out, shaking, until he saw the tractor, then he forgot he was lame to look at the tractor. So we tried the ditch again after a few laps of checking him out - no victory in sight. After a couple tries, Shannon sent us back to the baby ditch (the bank) to do it by ourselves (that alone was a small triumph for me), then back to the ditch behind our friend. Nope. He was wise to the evil tricky ways of the ditch. So then I got off, so Shannon could lead him over it. He hesitated, looking, lept huge, and lept so huge she had to let go of the reins, which he almost immediately stepped on, broke, and then started to trot back to the trailer - just slow enough to taunt us. Well, my friend's mom thought fast, pulled a granola bar out of her pocket, and the rascal turned around and came back for the granola bar. Then we made one long rein, which worked great for his super-launches, and Shannon led him over the ditch over and over (which begs the question why the one at home was such a huge deal with me today). And we quit on that.
It was very, very educational.
What I can't decide on are the three remaining recognized shows. While I think he isn't going to improve any riding at home, with timid me, I think it might be too much for this year. I think I'm going to ride the remaining derby, volunteer at the next two shows, and then hopefully ride the final show of the year. And then we'll work hard all winter to be ready for as much as we can afford next spring. Because I don't think we'll be bringing home many $300 ribbons. But the year after that ... we'll be rock stars.
Thursday, August 04, 2011
Another great lesson on a great day
This photo is of us warming up back at the FPEC show in June.
I (heart) summer. I'm so much happier once there's a cool breeze and a warm sun and long days, especially when I'm at the barn most of the day instead of at work. Today was my day off, and I got to drop off my trailer at the shop, let Willig out in the grass for a bit (he was good; just ate), leisurely groomed him, and warmed him up. It was a busy morning in the arena, which was good practice for me, since I usually ride alone at night, and it also kept me motivated to stay after my lesson and watch the next two lessons which was really, really useful.
First, we reviewed my tests from the last show. Mike said he heard about the scores already, and that if I just imagined each one was 2 points higher, it would probably be more what I was expecting. He told me about someone who got an 80 something at the previous show, and was in the 50s there! That made me feel a lot better, and means I was right to look at the 1st place and see that the scores were all low, and that it wasn't that my efforts to "ride an 8" were totally wrong. (Although from what I described, he said I should try to finesse it and only ride ugly if it's the only way to get the movement - rather than let Willig misbehave.)
Then we worked on the couple of things that I had asked about - coming across the diagonal at a canter, then around the corner trotting, then lengthening the trot - that lengthen is always ugly. And about using the baby spurs (no problem).
Mike said our leg yields were great, and then did a lot of polishing.
When I ask him for a transition, he needs to give it without flinging his head up. If he does, I go back and do it again.
He still needs to be more responsive. The first one is a gimmie (after he's been slacking), then he gets a whip tickle, then he gets a whip welt.
This can be done with things like trot, then two steps walk, then trot again.
Then we worked on his canter, which has gone back to being a bit strung out.
Important point: a leg yield aid is NOT with your leg back. (Then when I watched the lessons I saw better how this works for the next steps with shoulder-in, renvers, and travers.)
So the lengthening secret? He's already lengthening plenty, and I'm asking him for more when I should be working on keeping him balanced and together. If I would get the lengthen, then spend the other 2/3 keeping him pulled together, the whole thing flows better.
We ended with the magical, elusive "poof". This is the trot, and then I keep the same 1-2-1-2, but I half-halt while asking with my legs and kind of suck him up, and he elevates his forehand (I think?) and then he gets light for a few steps, and then I let him go back to normal. We just do it for a few steps, but I'm pretty sure this is the floaty thing that happens when Mike rides him for a few minutes, and ... I could make it happen! I don't entirely understand how it works, or even that I've described the aids properly, but when I was riding, I was getting it!
Willig was super obedient and nice today, even twice, due to rider steering error, going under the sprinkler. Mike said a lot of the movements were 7s and 8s, and he was really pleased with how far we've come and how we look. Me too. It's nice to ride Willig on a good day like this.
And it was so useful to watch the other lessons, because instead of concentrating on trying to ride the movement, I could listen to what Mike was saying and watch what happened with the horse. I need to audit more things and watch more lessons - it was super educational.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Overwhelmingly underwhelming - Donida
Sticking with the theme of "this isn't going to be a rock star year", we got a 50.645% on Test 1-3 and a 56.216% on Test 1-2 at Donida today.
We got 4s and 5s. Shudder.
Now, for the most part, this was because Willig and his friend Al acted like they had never, ever seen a judge's stand before, and so pretty much every movement that required passage past the judge's stand was a couple points lower than normal.
In fact, that's all I really want to report on it. This is the highest level I've ever ridden in dressage, but we'll certainly be doing first level again next year and not second level.
Next weekend is Summervale, and my goal is to improve. Which shouldn't be hard to do.
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