I got Willig about 3 1/2 years ago (if I'm remembering correctly). Because we couldn't get his hives under control, I ended up leaving my trainer's barn, and spent the next year working with him by myself.
I am pretty sure, in hindsight, that the last 3 years have been undoing the damage I did in that year by myself. This wasn't entirely by myself, because I also took Willig to some clinics, and that's where we ended up with the really bad fall (trying to jump a ditch - well, successfully jumping the ditch, and then bucking until I flew off) that made me scared until ... today.
And yes, I had nerves again on my way out, and earlier in the week tried to back out using the weather as an excuse.
Well, weather be damned, we just had a great schooling cross country day, even with a total downpour at the end.
Willig jumped EVERY. SINGLE. FENCE. except the "last" one, and then Shannon made us do the course we were doing three more times (mostly because I didn't make a big deal out of it).
He has a harder time with courses than single fences, and an even harder time when there's multiple fences (I think it's horse ADD, and he doesn't know where to focus). So Shannon said at the next show (we're signed up Beginner Novice!) to give him nice long approaches, put his attention on the fence, sit down a few strides out, and ride him assertively! Kick, cluck, growl, use the stick.
He jumped a bunch of log piles of various sizes, some of which looked Novice to me. He jumped off a bank. I had a hard time not jumping, and keeping my butt planted in the saddle and letting the reins run out, so this took a few tries, but he was a trooper every time.
He went in and out of the water, and jumped a bank out of the water.
He had a couple jigs were he came close to a halt (definitely a walk) but jumped BN height totally, totally fine from a walk/halt.
And mostly - he jumped like a dream. We go left pretty badly after each fence (I have no idea what I'm doing to make that happen), but my heels and legs felt GREAT, and even with the few awkward ones, I felt nice and balanced over his back.
And then we did a little 4-fence BN course, with brush in front and a hill and everything, in the slick wet tall grass, and other than the jig and half-ass refusal (and then jumped from the halt), he was gorgeous! It was fun again!
Except for Shannon, her daughter, Willig, and me were just completely soaking. Shannon and her daughter's feet were totally soaked (mine were too from the lunging), and I had my helmet, but each time I glanced down water just poured onto my saddle. So I really, really, really appreciated them being out there to help me out.
And now I am actually looking forward to the rest of this year's show season. We may just make a recognized show at the end of the season!
A few other reflections:
Shannon came out and schooled with me last year sometime. That time, he had a few bucking episodes, and it took us like 20 minutes to jump the bank the first time. NOTHING like that this time! Progress! Grass growing!
The "good rider" book I was raving about a few posts back talks about how even a great rider gets nerves, but the good reward feeling he gets at the end is proportional to the nerves at the start. I've been reminding myself of that when I get that knot in my stomach. That knot means good things are coming ... even maybe sometimes a few hours away.
The patience approach that Mike and Shannon advocated worked. We backed WAY off from what we were trying to do in the clinics, and they told me to trust it and take my time, and lo and behold - he's like a different horse. And he's not jumping them out of terror, but actually jumping them. And he's a gorgeous jumper to ride - he has a moment of suspension that is just divine in the air.
So, yes, of course I wished that I didn't mess up for those few years, but I learned some good stuff. And since we're not superstars (just rockstars), Willig has lots of good years left (he's 10 this year) to really improve on this stuff and make a lot of progress in dressage.
Charlie with the long sought after cooler
Spring NWEC 2013 Novice
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
1-2 & 1-3 scores
61.892% (1-2)
57.742% (1-3 - he did not feel like he should have to work again - it was an ugly test)
60.270% (1-2 - it did feel slightly less great than the first one, but pretty good)
60.323% (1-3 - it felt WAY better than the prior test, but only went up <3%!)
The consistent comment was:
More connection
The secondary comments were:
Haunches are in (crooked) a lot
Hollow
Needs better balance
Needs rounder topline
More stretch at stretchy circle
Head tilt
57.742% (1-3 - he did not feel like he should have to work again - it was an ugly test)
60.270% (1-2 - it did feel slightly less great than the first one, but pretty good)
60.323% (1-3 - it felt WAY better than the prior test, but only went up <3%!)
The consistent comment was:
More connection
The secondary comments were:
Haunches are in (crooked) a lot
Hollow
Needs better balance
Needs rounder topline
More stretch at stretchy circle
Head tilt
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Tips for 1st level
In today's lesson, we started with canter, and then worked on my leg aid - thinking about swinging my legs like scissors (something remarkably painful to do - I need to do more hip opener stretches at home), and then asking for the canter thinking about my leg back touching my saddle pad. Mike got draw reins for Willig so I'd have one less thing to think about, and I also learned that they can be attached to the girth OR under their belly!
Willig was pretty leery of both ends of the arena (judge's stand, weirdly placed stuff outdoors), but in a way, it makes him easier to ride because he's got more get-up-and-go, but I'm also thinking that both ends are scary, and so I ride pretty much the whole arena instead of slacking off on the non-scary side.
Then, after some of the "regular" work (quick responses to quick changes - walk-stop-trot-stop-walk-canter-etc.) I rode both my tests.
Here's the take aways:
- Remember to start the movement before the letter. If I'm turning left at C (from X) to extend at H, then start revving him up at C.
- It's ok to use the whip to get the movement correct (but not cluck).
- Make everything bigger and more exaggerated. It feels exaggerated to me, but it's really not. Make the lengthened canter enormous - like those horses at the Olympics who are rearing back and LIFTING their front legs - instead of Willig, plowing his way to China. Mike said the lengthen needs to at least double from what I think is crazy fast.
- A 15 meter circle is smaller than I think it is.
- And for some reason, I was off on all my letters - undershooting them like I was in a 3/4 size arena.
- On the counter canter loop, spend a couple of strides on the center line before going back over.
- Don't let his head/neck bend too much on leg yield.
- Same as lengthening canter - actually lengthen the trot - but don't throw him away. Get that "lift" and skip in the steps.
- Our centerline and halt is a bit crooked. Feel that, and correct very lightly (he very quickly overcorrects to haunches out the other direction). (This one is a follow up for a future lesson because it seems to be coming from crookedness in me.)
- It's ok to walk a couple steps to get a square halt (and to walk a couple to go back to trot).
- I can spend quarterline to quarterline on the lead change, so trot at quarterline, get him readjusted, and then ask for lead change before the other quarterline.
- Ride him forward in the scary corners so he doesn't have an opportunity to break.
- Medium walk should have momentum. I lollygag. Willig has a nice walk (naturally) so I'm diminishing our opportunity to take advantage of the double coefficient!
- More stretchy on the stretchy circle (and warm up with some stretchy, not with holding him all rigid and tight).
- The judge is looking for the momentum mostly.
No wonder I feel like I never get it all. These are just Mike's tips to help us take off the rough edges just from 12 minutes of riding in a 45 minute lesson. I need to start recording and transcribing the lessons to catch more of it!
Willig was pretty leery of both ends of the arena (judge's stand, weirdly placed stuff outdoors), but in a way, it makes him easier to ride because he's got more get-up-and-go, but I'm also thinking that both ends are scary, and so I ride pretty much the whole arena instead of slacking off on the non-scary side.
Then, after some of the "regular" work (quick responses to quick changes - walk-stop-trot-stop-walk-canter-etc.) I rode both my tests.
Here's the take aways:
- Remember to start the movement before the letter. If I'm turning left at C (from X) to extend at H, then start revving him up at C.
- It's ok to use the whip to get the movement correct (but not cluck).
- Make everything bigger and more exaggerated. It feels exaggerated to me, but it's really not. Make the lengthened canter enormous - like those horses at the Olympics who are rearing back and LIFTING their front legs - instead of Willig, plowing his way to China. Mike said the lengthen needs to at least double from what I think is crazy fast.
- A 15 meter circle is smaller than I think it is.
- And for some reason, I was off on all my letters - undershooting them like I was in a 3/4 size arena.
- On the counter canter loop, spend a couple of strides on the center line before going back over.
- Don't let his head/neck bend too much on leg yield.
- Same as lengthening canter - actually lengthen the trot - but don't throw him away. Get that "lift" and skip in the steps.
- Our centerline and halt is a bit crooked. Feel that, and correct very lightly (he very quickly overcorrects to haunches out the other direction). (This one is a follow up for a future lesson because it seems to be coming from crookedness in me.)
- It's ok to walk a couple steps to get a square halt (and to walk a couple to go back to trot).
- I can spend quarterline to quarterline on the lead change, so trot at quarterline, get him readjusted, and then ask for lead change before the other quarterline.
- Ride him forward in the scary corners so he doesn't have an opportunity to break.
- Medium walk should have momentum. I lollygag. Willig has a nice walk (naturally) so I'm diminishing our opportunity to take advantage of the double coefficient!
- More stretchy on the stretchy circle (and warm up with some stretchy, not with holding him all rigid and tight).
- The judge is looking for the momentum mostly.
No wonder I feel like I never get it all. These are just Mike's tips to help us take off the rough edges just from 12 minutes of riding in a 45 minute lesson. I need to start recording and transcribing the lessons to catch more of it!
Sunday, June 19, 2011
SPECTACULAR Willig! Cross-country champion!
Beginning mid-morning today, I had a big, nasty ball of fear in my stomach about today's lesson. I had intellectually intelligently asked Shannon to jump the x-c jumps outside, but emotionally wrenchingly didn't want to. And yesterday Willig was full of pep and vinegar, and although I was able to warm him up on the non-scary side of the arena, I gave up and put him on the lunge line (where he lunged himself for 30 minutes with mucho bucking) for the far side. (I did ride him both dressage tests after that, but he was pretty sweaty and jerky.) This wasn't entirely his fault, because I had a week where each day went wrong on its own, making his only ride with J on Thursday.
The course was down because the arena got dragged this week, so Shannon had us warm up on a circle (Willig needs to pay attention and be very responsive to my aids. And when he ignores me, whip him and make the "eettcch!" sound), then in between the standards (scary pile of stuff), then down a bit farther (where of course, the *&#&*(#& poodle came out).
Then she set up trot ground poles, both directions, then canter ground poles, both directions, then a big canter ground poles that eventually I had to do in a 2-point both directions. Then a cross-rail, both directions, a vertical, both directions, a vertical that sneaky got higher in between, both directions, and then an oxer that got fairly impressive looking. This didn't take nearly as long as it sounds.
The message was ride him assertively, and RIDE him to the fence. Look at it as I come around the corner, give him a couple of balancing half-halts but keep him MOVING towards it, and then sit back, kick him, and let him jump it.
The oxer especially, it helped me to think 1-2-1-2 about half way across on the circle (if the fence was 3:00, I started thinking it at 9:00) to help me keep the rhythm and not rush or slow down towards the fence. It also helped me breathe, which I was having a hard time doing.
Then we went out into the field.
We went straight to the little baby log from a trot. Willig tried immediately to dart left, then dart right when that didn't work, and I jammed him over it. And Shannon said, at the end, that it set the stage for the rest of the jumps. I was supposed to ride him straight after, trot, then halt. Then we turned around and jumped it again, heading back towards the barn. And he was hard to stop. So Shannon showed me how to plant one hand on his neck, and use the other hand to pull (and release) HARD. So we flipped back and forth like that for a while.
Then she set up blue barrels next to the next fence, and we had to jump those both directions. And the message was: "don't jump like a pansy". Ride him to the jump, even if I'm scared, ESPECIALLY if he's scared too.
By the way, I had offered Willig a deal when I was getting him out of the paddock. If he'd take care of me today, with my big ball of fear in my gut, I'd take care of him next time. And he pretty much came through for me.
So then we jumped little log, turned around, and came back and jumped barrels.
And then we jumped little log, turned around, and came back and jumped novice level angle.
And oh. my. lord. Willig jumped like an angel.
And we did it again. And he jumped it like an angel again.
So with my jaw hanging open, other than begging Shannon to stop while we were ahead (and she pointed out she had three decent x-c size fences, so we were doing three fences), we went to the intimidating looking log pile. It has, maybe 1' length logs, but two big piles on the end, so it looks big, so she said Willig could look at it. And we approached it at what felt like an awfully fast walk for stopping in front of it, and then I felt him rock back on his haunches, and she said he lifted his front leg, ready to clamber over it like he is supposed to do! He's hilarious.
We actually jumped it from the other direction, going around a patch of scary trees (birds must sit in there and make noises or something), and he ... jumped it like an angel. And then again.
He was totally carrying me and while he looked at each one, he didn't hesitate for a second, and he jumped them like a sweet, floating pegasus.
So then we went to the one that looks the most intimidating to me - it's on a bit of a hill going down and has a log in front of it, so it looks bigger (Shannon swears it's not). And we walked towards it first, to get our line, and then swooped right around and trotted it.
...
Angel again.
He just jumped it divine.
And I started laughing and patting him and then: "Eeek! A bird! Holy shit!" and he spun around and I lost my stirrup, but thanks to his new improved spooking, he just stopped after that.
So we jumped it again. Angel jumping, but spooked at the bird again.
So we rode circles, leg yielding out towards the tree with the bird, and then jumped it again, and then Mr. Perfect did a perfect straight line with an ear towards the bird but that was it.
He was divine.
So all that patience has, maybe, paid off. That's an important lesson for you kids. Trust your trainer and build his confidence, even if you want to do something bigger. And also, most of this - ok, for today, all of this - is coming from me and my scary fall and wow - that really did a number on my mental side.
So I'm going to stick with the program because if we can get really comfortable doing this at home, the shows will be no big deal.
Yay, yay, yay Willig!
The course was down because the arena got dragged this week, so Shannon had us warm up on a circle (Willig needs to pay attention and be very responsive to my aids. And when he ignores me, whip him and make the "eettcch!" sound), then in between the standards (scary pile of stuff), then down a bit farther (where of course, the *&#&*(#& poodle came out).
Then she set up trot ground poles, both directions, then canter ground poles, both directions, then a big canter ground poles that eventually I had to do in a 2-point both directions. Then a cross-rail, both directions, a vertical, both directions, a vertical that sneaky got higher in between, both directions, and then an oxer that got fairly impressive looking. This didn't take nearly as long as it sounds.
The message was ride him assertively, and RIDE him to the fence. Look at it as I come around the corner, give him a couple of balancing half-halts but keep him MOVING towards it, and then sit back, kick him, and let him jump it.
The oxer especially, it helped me to think 1-2-1-2 about half way across on the circle (if the fence was 3:00, I started thinking it at 9:00) to help me keep the rhythm and not rush or slow down towards the fence. It also helped me breathe, which I was having a hard time doing.
Then we went out into the field.
We went straight to the little baby log from a trot. Willig tried immediately to dart left, then dart right when that didn't work, and I jammed him over it. And Shannon said, at the end, that it set the stage for the rest of the jumps. I was supposed to ride him straight after, trot, then halt. Then we turned around and jumped it again, heading back towards the barn. And he was hard to stop. So Shannon showed me how to plant one hand on his neck, and use the other hand to pull (and release) HARD. So we flipped back and forth like that for a while.
Then she set up blue barrels next to the next fence, and we had to jump those both directions. And the message was: "don't jump like a pansy". Ride him to the jump, even if I'm scared, ESPECIALLY if he's scared too.
By the way, I had offered Willig a deal when I was getting him out of the paddock. If he'd take care of me today, with my big ball of fear in my gut, I'd take care of him next time. And he pretty much came through for me.
So then we jumped little log, turned around, and came back and jumped barrels.
And then we jumped little log, turned around, and came back and jumped novice level angle.
And oh. my. lord. Willig jumped like an angel.
And we did it again. And he jumped it like an angel again.
So with my jaw hanging open, other than begging Shannon to stop while we were ahead (and she pointed out she had three decent x-c size fences, so we were doing three fences), we went to the intimidating looking log pile. It has, maybe 1' length logs, but two big piles on the end, so it looks big, so she said Willig could look at it. And we approached it at what felt like an awfully fast walk for stopping in front of it, and then I felt him rock back on his haunches, and she said he lifted his front leg, ready to clamber over it like he is supposed to do! He's hilarious.
We actually jumped it from the other direction, going around a patch of scary trees (birds must sit in there and make noises or something), and he ... jumped it like an angel. And then again.
He was totally carrying me and while he looked at each one, he didn't hesitate for a second, and he jumped them like a sweet, floating pegasus.
So then we went to the one that looks the most intimidating to me - it's on a bit of a hill going down and has a log in front of it, so it looks bigger (Shannon swears it's not). And we walked towards it first, to get our line, and then swooped right around and trotted it.
...
Angel again.
He just jumped it divine.
And I started laughing and patting him and then: "Eeek! A bird! Holy shit!" and he spun around and I lost my stirrup, but thanks to his new improved spooking, he just stopped after that.
So we jumped it again. Angel jumping, but spooked at the bird again.
So we rode circles, leg yielding out towards the tree with the bird, and then jumped it again, and then Mr. Perfect did a perfect straight line with an ear towards the bird but that was it.
He was divine.
So all that patience has, maybe, paid off. That's an important lesson for you kids. Trust your trainer and build his confidence, even if you want to do something bigger. And also, most of this - ok, for today, all of this - is coming from me and my scary fall and wow - that really did a number on my mental side.
So I'm going to stick with the program because if we can get really comfortable doing this at home, the shows will be no big deal.
Yay, yay, yay Willig!
Thursday, June 09, 2011
Leg yields, bend, and lengthening
I asked for help with three issues in today's lesson: test 1-3's right hand 10 meter circle at X to a left leg yield to H we're still trailing the haunches; Shannon's observation that I ride heavy on the hand corrections and not so much on the leg; and the lengthenings might just be "speedenings".
Since I had, remarkably, already warmed up by the time my lesson started (instead of racing in the arena 5 minutes before it started, despite my best efforts to be early, which is my usual m.o.), we got right into leg yields. First we rode shoulder-in down the walls, then down the fake line that is the test size. Then we started riding from the corner to the center line. Big message here: make him do it. Ask for it and then demand it if he doesn't fly off my leg.
By the way, that's the theme from today's lesson. When I ask, he should do. Crisp, prompt responses to my aids, not 4-5 steps of slugging around.
Second big message: counterbend a bit as we come around the corner. So to start the leg yield at K, at A I start preparing by bending him a bit left.
Another big message: my motorcycle corners? This is how I need to fix them. I bend him more and more the direction we're going (for A to K, that's right) and he collapses further and further in. I need to counter bend him to the left so that we come around the corner (deeply) and emerge a straight horse. While this feels crooked, like we're all crazy bent to the left - not only is the feeling deceptive, but Mike says over time, you go from gross scale (yelling) to fine scale (whispering).
In addition to the shoulder-ins for warm up, also just do the western straight across side pass. Then the leg yield feels easy.
Willig was actually doing this really well today. It's mostly me bending him the "wrong" way, and then preparing and applying that same activity on the last quarter of the 10 meter circle, which is harder.
It's ok also to think "shoulder-in" if he's trailing, so if we're going from X to H, shoulder in for a moment to the right and then it fixes the trailing.
The next big thing we did, after the light bulb moment about the corners, was my difficulty with the physical part of the big circle haunches in we started last lesson. With Mike, it makes sense. On my one, I get all confused about where everything is supposed to be. I can think of 3 new things at once, but not 6, and Mike pointed out it pulls a lot of things together. So if you're making a big haunches in circle to the right, it's your right leg and right rein 'steady', and then your left leg asking WHEN THE LEFT HIND LIFTS (this is hard to feel on a little circle for me) and the left rein flexing and the left hand using the whip. So mostly, I think I just need to keep working on this until it starts to congeal in my head.
Then we did another huge epiphany - we were trotting to get ready for canter to get ready for lenghtening, and Mike made me really ride him, not to dawdle around and let him crash around on his forehand. And when I pulled him all together and really pushed (this was, by the way, at least 10x harder than my normal riding; I was almost instantly out of breath), I felt the puff in his shoulders!! The puff that is there when Mike gets off that makes him so easy to sit on?!? I did it! I made the puff happen!! I couldn't even listen to Mike for like half a lap because I was ecstatic that I felt how to make the puff.
Now, how to describe it in words? It's above my head right now. It's all about pushing and holding together, but beyond that, it was just a feeling. And wow. There's our baby step towards being able to create that lift in the shoulders. Wow.
So then we did some trot lengthening, and I was right that Willig doesn't do it consistently. When he is really lengthening, there's that "skip" feeling at the end of the stride, and the skip throws me up out of the saddle. And Mike said we're past that - last year I flopped and flailed around, but this year, I know better, so when it gets big, sink my heels, drop my legs, and stay steady contact. Think about how I corrected it last year, and correct it here too. Don't let Willig go all crazy and lose all connection. Just ride the damn thing.
So the big take aways are the same message as always: work on prompt, responsiveness to the aids (like with the leg yield, I'm losing four steps getting him ready to go); prepare ahead of time for the next movement; and demand excellence from myself and Willig.
It was another GREAT lesson. We are definitely in territory that is new to me, so it's a little harder for me to retain it and translate it, even just a few hours later, but it is so fun to be learning so much and making so much progress. I had been sure after how far we've come since last year that there'd be a big long plateau, but this is just one cool thing after another.
Since I had, remarkably, already warmed up by the time my lesson started (instead of racing in the arena 5 minutes before it started, despite my best efforts to be early, which is my usual m.o.), we got right into leg yields. First we rode shoulder-in down the walls, then down the fake line that is the test size. Then we started riding from the corner to the center line. Big message here: make him do it. Ask for it and then demand it if he doesn't fly off my leg.
By the way, that's the theme from today's lesson. When I ask, he should do. Crisp, prompt responses to my aids, not 4-5 steps of slugging around.
Second big message: counterbend a bit as we come around the corner. So to start the leg yield at K, at A I start preparing by bending him a bit left.
Another big message: my motorcycle corners? This is how I need to fix them. I bend him more and more the direction we're going (for A to K, that's right) and he collapses further and further in. I need to counter bend him to the left so that we come around the corner (deeply) and emerge a straight horse. While this feels crooked, like we're all crazy bent to the left - not only is the feeling deceptive, but Mike says over time, you go from gross scale (yelling) to fine scale (whispering).
In addition to the shoulder-ins for warm up, also just do the western straight across side pass. Then the leg yield feels easy.
Willig was actually doing this really well today. It's mostly me bending him the "wrong" way, and then preparing and applying that same activity on the last quarter of the 10 meter circle, which is harder.
It's ok also to think "shoulder-in" if he's trailing, so if we're going from X to H, shoulder in for a moment to the right and then it fixes the trailing.
The next big thing we did, after the light bulb moment about the corners, was my difficulty with the physical part of the big circle haunches in we started last lesson. With Mike, it makes sense. On my one, I get all confused about where everything is supposed to be. I can think of 3 new things at once, but not 6, and Mike pointed out it pulls a lot of things together. So if you're making a big haunches in circle to the right, it's your right leg and right rein 'steady', and then your left leg asking WHEN THE LEFT HIND LIFTS (this is hard to feel on a little circle for me) and the left rein flexing and the left hand using the whip. So mostly, I think I just need to keep working on this until it starts to congeal in my head.
Then we did another huge epiphany - we were trotting to get ready for canter to get ready for lenghtening, and Mike made me really ride him, not to dawdle around and let him crash around on his forehand. And when I pulled him all together and really pushed (this was, by the way, at least 10x harder than my normal riding; I was almost instantly out of breath), I felt the puff in his shoulders!! The puff that is there when Mike gets off that makes him so easy to sit on?!? I did it! I made the puff happen!! I couldn't even listen to Mike for like half a lap because I was ecstatic that I felt how to make the puff.
Now, how to describe it in words? It's above my head right now. It's all about pushing and holding together, but beyond that, it was just a feeling. And wow. There's our baby step towards being able to create that lift in the shoulders. Wow.
So then we did some trot lengthening, and I was right that Willig doesn't do it consistently. When he is really lengthening, there's that "skip" feeling at the end of the stride, and the skip throws me up out of the saddle. And Mike said we're past that - last year I flopped and flailed around, but this year, I know better, so when it gets big, sink my heels, drop my legs, and stay steady contact. Think about how I corrected it last year, and correct it here too. Don't let Willig go all crazy and lose all connection. Just ride the damn thing.
So the big take aways are the same message as always: work on prompt, responsiveness to the aids (like with the leg yield, I'm losing four steps getting him ready to go); prepare ahead of time for the next movement; and demand excellence from myself and Willig.
It was another GREAT lesson. We are definitely in territory that is new to me, so it's a little harder for me to retain it and translate it, even just a few hours later, but it is so fun to be learning so much and making so much progress. I had been sure after how far we've come since last year that there'd be a big long plateau, but this is just one cool thing after another.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
The grass is growing!
Friday I jumped Willig by myself - well, we went over a fence multiple times - each time with its own style of ugly - but I'm counting it because ... my position was solid and although I was irritated with what a moron Willig was being (I think he was mad because my car was parked under a tree instead of in the parking lot, so the dogs wouldn't overheat) I felt like I had the lower leg and the tools to ride it. I couldn't ride the course I wanted, but I didn't go off.
So today he started out almost as goofy - he decided he was scared of the Gator, which was parked nearby. I thought the whole lesson was going to be a write-off (or at least, one of those "wonderful" lessons where I acquire another tool in my tool box for when he's being a moron - those are great, but actually jumping and feeling confident is more fun).
Instead, Shannon helped us pull it together - way better than I did on my own, and we ended up with a few take-aways:
1. Ride him. Ride him. Ride him. Stop being a passenger and ride him.
This was the main message of the lesson. We started over a little cross-rail - no big deal. Half halt on the way there, and then let him go the last couple strides. Sit up and heels forward and don't jump ahead.
We went from the cross rail straight to a course. To be a show off, I cantered it. Shannon said "great job, but next time canter it faster - you got five strides in the four stride". So there's the "push it a little further" for you.
Then we did a second, longer, harder course. Shannon moved blocks around, set a couple fences higher, hung her jacket in a terrifying place, and added ... the wall. She said if we did it perfect, we would only have to do it once.
And so we did it with one fault (the rail on top of the lattice).
Here's what was interesting:
- It's hard to ride him faster. It's hard enough to canter him, let alone push him forward. (i.e. I am really a chicken.)
- He tried to dart left at the wall, but I was half-expecting it, so my left leg - praise it! - actually wiggled a little on his side, and probably thanks to all J's riding - he went back to the right and we went over the wall. I made a correction! Without Shannon yelling it ahead of time!
- Shannon made us jump it a second time. And I realized, as I circled back around, that I was out of breath. Which was ... the only time I was out of breath on the course! The 2'9" oxer at the end of the combination didn't scare me. The barrels toward the poodle didn't scare me. The jacket hanging on the standard didn't scare me. The horrible flower boxes (they must look like a black hole to him or something) didn't scare me. Only the wall did. That's what I meant by the grass is growing. What huge progress from even just a few months ago, but definitely a year ago.
- It isn't that big. It's a mental thing because it looks solid. It was smaller than some of our other fences, and as we went over it, I thought "oh, this is nothing."
2. Ride him into the outside rein.
When he's being a doofus, I like to jerk on his mouth. Shannon said kick instead. If he tries to dart off, yes of course use the rein, but just try my legs first.
3. Make him respect me more than whatever he's being scared of.
Again with the Gator (although I think it applied to the fences after we worked so hard on going past the Gator), he needs to worry more about what I'm asking him to do and asking him to do next, than look for things to be scared of. Even if they're "legitimately" scary. (Nothing was, but in theory it could be.)
I think this is what J is doing when he is being a jerk, although she's too polite to ever call him a jerk. Or she actually rides, so his jerk-ness barely registers to her.
4. Did I mention the riding him part?
If I ride every fence, every stride, he holds his act together. It takes an enormous amount of concentration and focus, but the second time we came to the wall, I actually looked at it and thought "I can do this". I haven't felt that way on Willig in a long time. I'm super excited.
So today he started out almost as goofy - he decided he was scared of the Gator, which was parked nearby. I thought the whole lesson was going to be a write-off (or at least, one of those "wonderful" lessons where I acquire another tool in my tool box for when he's being a moron - those are great, but actually jumping and feeling confident is more fun).
Instead, Shannon helped us pull it together - way better than I did on my own, and we ended up with a few take-aways:
1. Ride him. Ride him. Ride him. Stop being a passenger and ride him.
This was the main message of the lesson. We started over a little cross-rail - no big deal. Half halt on the way there, and then let him go the last couple strides. Sit up and heels forward and don't jump ahead.
We went from the cross rail straight to a course. To be a show off, I cantered it. Shannon said "great job, but next time canter it faster - you got five strides in the four stride". So there's the "push it a little further" for you.
Then we did a second, longer, harder course. Shannon moved blocks around, set a couple fences higher, hung her jacket in a terrifying place, and added ... the wall. She said if we did it perfect, we would only have to do it once.
And so we did it with one fault (the rail on top of the lattice).
Here's what was interesting:
- It's hard to ride him faster. It's hard enough to canter him, let alone push him forward. (i.e. I am really a chicken.)
- He tried to dart left at the wall, but I was half-expecting it, so my left leg - praise it! - actually wiggled a little on his side, and probably thanks to all J's riding - he went back to the right and we went over the wall. I made a correction! Without Shannon yelling it ahead of time!
- Shannon made us jump it a second time. And I realized, as I circled back around, that I was out of breath. Which was ... the only time I was out of breath on the course! The 2'9" oxer at the end of the combination didn't scare me. The barrels toward the poodle didn't scare me. The jacket hanging on the standard didn't scare me. The horrible flower boxes (they must look like a black hole to him or something) didn't scare me. Only the wall did. That's what I meant by the grass is growing. What huge progress from even just a few months ago, but definitely a year ago.
- It isn't that big. It's a mental thing because it looks solid. It was smaller than some of our other fences, and as we went over it, I thought "oh, this is nothing."
2. Ride him into the outside rein.
When he's being a doofus, I like to jerk on his mouth. Shannon said kick instead. If he tries to dart off, yes of course use the rein, but just try my legs first.
3. Make him respect me more than whatever he's being scared of.
Again with the Gator (although I think it applied to the fences after we worked so hard on going past the Gator), he needs to worry more about what I'm asking him to do and asking him to do next, than look for things to be scared of. Even if they're "legitimately" scary. (Nothing was, but in theory it could be.)
I think this is what J is doing when he is being a jerk, although she's too polite to ever call him a jerk. Or she actually rides, so his jerk-ness barely registers to her.
4. Did I mention the riding him part?
If I ride every fence, every stride, he holds his act together. It takes an enormous amount of concentration and focus, but the second time we came to the wall, I actually looked at it and thought "I can do this". I haven't felt that way on Willig in a long time. I'm super excited.
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Good Book
I'm reading "how good riders get good" by Denny Emerson and finding it very apropros.
Here's a quote quoted in the book:
"Nothing in the world can take the palce of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost always a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan, 'press on' has solved, and always will solve, the problems of the human race." And riding. - President Calvin Coolidge
Here's some other gems from it:
Gina Miles says her latest philosophy is "I plan to be a better rider in five years than I am now."
The Plateau Concept
Just because you can't see grass growing doesn't mean it isn't. "[P]rogress is so slow and imperceptible that we are too close to see it on a day-to-day basis, often leading to the misconception that there isn't any progress."
Jane Savoie's "Flea Jar Factor"
Fleas learn the height of their jar and jump so their heads don't hit the top. Make sure that your fences build self-confidence, scare yourself a little, but not too much. Jump at home so that your "flea jar height" at a show seems so much shorter.
Performance Anxiety
"The euphoria I experienced on successful completion was directly proportional to the fear I experienced beforehand."
"The credit belongs to the man who ... if he wins, knows the thrill of high achievement, and if he fails, at least fails daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." - Theodore Roosevelt
Here's a quote quoted in the book:
"Nothing in the world can take the palce of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost always a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan, 'press on' has solved, and always will solve, the problems of the human race." And riding. - President Calvin Coolidge
Here's some other gems from it:
Gina Miles says her latest philosophy is "I plan to be a better rider in five years than I am now."
The Plateau Concept
Just because you can't see grass growing doesn't mean it isn't. "[P]rogress is so slow and imperceptible that we are too close to see it on a day-to-day basis, often leading to the misconception that there isn't any progress."
Jane Savoie's "Flea Jar Factor"
Fleas learn the height of their jar and jump so their heads don't hit the top. Make sure that your fences build self-confidence, scare yourself a little, but not too much. Jump at home so that your "flea jar height" at a show seems so much shorter.
Performance Anxiety
"The euphoria I experienced on successful completion was directly proportional to the fear I experienced beforehand."
"The credit belongs to the man who ... if he wins, knows the thrill of high achievement, and if he fails, at least fails daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." - Theodore Roosevelt
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