An elevator bit and the "stupid" phase

Charlie was very, very stiff in his neck today, so John went and got one of his bridles with an elevator bit on it.  Charlie did not care for it, thank you very much.  He did a lot of head shaking, including shaking his head so vigorously, that he'd have to stop moving his legs so he could better shake his head.  I did a lot of kicking and smacking with John's whip (which he was probably sorry he had me try today) and John did a lot of growling.  We jumped one little vertical from a stand still and had a couple of circles to avoid stops, but after a while, Charlie gave up and just went with the new bit.
And then his head was SO light.  I could turn and I didn't have to crank him around my leg and he landed on the correct lead almost every time, and he wasn't pulling me down and forward.  It was kind of a miracle.
So we only jumped a couple little jumps, but I started getting mad because I could see the distance but not make it.  We did a deer jump over the oxer once, and John said I had to commit, that I couldn't just stare at it and wait for something to happen - I had to decide whether to go long or go in another stride and then follow through.
So I expressed my frustration with being able to see the distances but still not get them, and he said that's because I was in Phase 3 (of 4, thank goodness) the "stupid" phase.  He said phase 1 is ignorance - just happy having a good time.  Phase 2 is knowing a little bit, but still being pretty good.  Then Phase 3 is knowing and not being able to implement, and it is totally frustrating.  He said both for jumping and for particularly sitting the trot, you work at it and work at it and work at it and nothing happens.  Then one day you realize you are sitting the trot, or hitting all your distances the way you want, and that is it, you just got it.  And then Phase 4 you are good.  He said that he has 4-5 Phase 3s on each horse per year, where he just can't get the distance, but the way he usually corrects it is to jump a fence at an angle, which helps him reset his eye.
We also talked about exercises on the ground, like doing a 4, 5, or 6 line in between two fences, or counting down.  He feels that "1-2-3-4" is the best way to count (and that yes, in xc you should go the same speed the whole time.  He knows someone who counts all the strides and then counts between each fence - even if it's 80 strides), because you can't say "1-2-3-4" fast like you can "1-2-1-2" and change the rhythm.  He was taught 1-2-3-jump, but doesn't like it as much because a lot of people launch at 3 to make the jump instead of getting to the right place.
Then we talked about chiropractors and farriers and Pony Club, and John described the difference between an average horse and Charlie, where the average horse will step on a pole and pretend like nothing happened, but Charlie says "oh no, look at what my crazy leg is doing over there - it's out of control" and just goes all wonky with his legs, and always has.