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.
Charlie with the long sought after cooler
Spring NWEC 2013 Novice
Thursday, September 01, 2011
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.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
The good news is it's not me being an idiot by myself
Willig can be kind of a snake in the grass about jumping. He darts out, really fast, sometimes at the last minute, without a whole lot of warning.
So I can:
- Feel the dart coming sooner; and/or
- React faster.
But that's about it. I know what to do, I'm just not recognizing he's going to dart in time, or reacting in time once I feel it about to happen.
So today we started with the wall. Here's three pieces of good news. First, I can now ride him on a loose rein past the scary end - ho-hum - that just a few months ago I was enviably watching J do and thinking I'd never be able to do that on Willig. Second, I don't get a knot in my stomach the day before my jump lesson. And in fact, this week when I jumped him by myself, I was looking forward to it all day. Yippee! Third, we started with the wall. The solid wall that a year ago I wouldn't even try, and 6 months ago, I did pretty much crying and definitely holding my breath only because I was in a lesson with Shannon. Now it doesn't even look big or imposing. It's just a jump. Yay! Yay! Yay!
Shannon wanted to start with the wall instead of dinking around over a cross rail to make him snap to it. She also suggested that I try some baby spurs she's got because he's getting kind of lazy and inclined to ignore my aids, even though I've gotten better about not anaconda squeezing the aid non-stop.
So as we turned towards the wall - I mean just turned, like 20 - 30' away - he refused. He ran out. So she made us make 10 meter circles in front of the wall, thinking leg yield him toward it, and inching closer and closer and then popping over it.
We did this both directions and then with the lattice and then with the skinny (the three he refused when I was by myself earlier in the week). The point was that it's way more work to be all ditchy, and he might as well just go over it when I point him at it.
The other big thing was getting his attention. He's trying to look at the jump, or another jump, or a thing under a jump, or the poodle, or the pasture, or Shannon, or anything that is not listening to me. So giving a leg aid, asking him to leg yield, giving a smack with the whip, making a noise - so that his attention refocuses on me. This applies in between fences too.
To fix this Shannon also suggested taking scary stuff (like the tarp that's out there and hanging it over a fence) and not jumping, but just riding 6" past it, so that he learns he has to go where I say when I say it, and that it's less work and less scary to just be obedient. She said there was no obvious reason for the ditching (a couple times, I was grabby, but it wasn't causing the ditching).
So then the other big thing we worked on was rhythm. Coming in saying 1-2-1-2 (at the canter) and then when he lands, he likes to dive and kind of barrel along on his forehand, so give him a few really strong half-halts, pull him back up, and then get him back to 1-2-1-2, but not plummeting to a trot or walk (like I usually do) and not riding him all grabby and scared after every fence. It helps me enormously to say it loud to myself on the way to the fence and as soon as we land.
And then to try, even if he comes in fast and flat, not to pull back before the fence, but to let him go.
Although it was lame he was ditching, it was good to deal with it, so that I know that I'm working on the right thing when I'm by myself (and not making it worse) and to just keep plugging away at it. He's kind of a kook. Today he didn't give a rat's ass about the blue barrels, which are normally the bane of his outdoor existence.
I have NEVER ridden with spurs in my life - my lower leg has always been too bad - so it will be very interesting! Which is another good thing - whether Willig comes in short, low, fast, long, or just right - I have been feeling so good and balanced in the air. Shannon got me my jumping seat back!
Another thing I learned from Pony Club D Manual, which apparently every one, including 6 year olds, knew and I didn't, is that you are supposed to clean your tack, then oil it, then saddle soap it. My entire life I have been saddle soaping and then oiling. And clean the tack with a moist, warm sponge after every ride.
I also just finished Jane Savoie's, "It's not just about the ribbons" which I liked. Some of the visuals were helpful, and it was a good reminder to have a positive attitude instead of thinking about negatives. I've been trying to visualize riding my dressage tests instead of just thinking the pattern.
So I can:
- Feel the dart coming sooner; and/or
- React faster.
But that's about it. I know what to do, I'm just not recognizing he's going to dart in time, or reacting in time once I feel it about to happen.
So today we started with the wall. Here's three pieces of good news. First, I can now ride him on a loose rein past the scary end - ho-hum - that just a few months ago I was enviably watching J do and thinking I'd never be able to do that on Willig. Second, I don't get a knot in my stomach the day before my jump lesson. And in fact, this week when I jumped him by myself, I was looking forward to it all day. Yippee! Third, we started with the wall. The solid wall that a year ago I wouldn't even try, and 6 months ago, I did pretty much crying and definitely holding my breath only because I was in a lesson with Shannon. Now it doesn't even look big or imposing. It's just a jump. Yay! Yay! Yay!
Shannon wanted to start with the wall instead of dinking around over a cross rail to make him snap to it. She also suggested that I try some baby spurs she's got because he's getting kind of lazy and inclined to ignore my aids, even though I've gotten better about not anaconda squeezing the aid non-stop.
So as we turned towards the wall - I mean just turned, like 20 - 30' away - he refused. He ran out. So she made us make 10 meter circles in front of the wall, thinking leg yield him toward it, and inching closer and closer and then popping over it.
We did this both directions and then with the lattice and then with the skinny (the three he refused when I was by myself earlier in the week). The point was that it's way more work to be all ditchy, and he might as well just go over it when I point him at it.
The other big thing was getting his attention. He's trying to look at the jump, or another jump, or a thing under a jump, or the poodle, or the pasture, or Shannon, or anything that is not listening to me. So giving a leg aid, asking him to leg yield, giving a smack with the whip, making a noise - so that his attention refocuses on me. This applies in between fences too.
To fix this Shannon also suggested taking scary stuff (like the tarp that's out there and hanging it over a fence) and not jumping, but just riding 6" past it, so that he learns he has to go where I say when I say it, and that it's less work and less scary to just be obedient. She said there was no obvious reason for the ditching (a couple times, I was grabby, but it wasn't causing the ditching).
So then the other big thing we worked on was rhythm. Coming in saying 1-2-1-2 (at the canter) and then when he lands, he likes to dive and kind of barrel along on his forehand, so give him a few really strong half-halts, pull him back up, and then get him back to 1-2-1-2, but not plummeting to a trot or walk (like I usually do) and not riding him all grabby and scared after every fence. It helps me enormously to say it loud to myself on the way to the fence and as soon as we land.
And then to try, even if he comes in fast and flat, not to pull back before the fence, but to let him go.
Although it was lame he was ditching, it was good to deal with it, so that I know that I'm working on the right thing when I'm by myself (and not making it worse) and to just keep plugging away at it. He's kind of a kook. Today he didn't give a rat's ass about the blue barrels, which are normally the bane of his outdoor existence.
I have NEVER ridden with spurs in my life - my lower leg has always been too bad - so it will be very interesting! Which is another good thing - whether Willig comes in short, low, fast, long, or just right - I have been feeling so good and balanced in the air. Shannon got me my jumping seat back!
Another thing I learned from Pony Club D Manual, which apparently every one, including 6 year olds, knew and I didn't, is that you are supposed to clean your tack, then oil it, then saddle soap it. My entire life I have been saddle soaping and then oiling. And clean the tack with a moist, warm sponge after every ride.
I also just finished Jane Savoie's, "It's not just about the ribbons" which I liked. Some of the visuals were helpful, and it was a good reminder to have a positive attitude instead of thinking about negatives. I've been trying to visualize riding my dressage tests instead of just thinking the pattern.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
I continue to need lessons to slowly learn the blindingly obvious, once learned
I had a dressage lesson today, where I bemoaned my fair, but disappointing, dressage scores, particularly the 5 on a right 20 meter trot circle, where, irony of all ironies, he was counterbent - to the LEFT (the side Mike has to basically wrestle me into bending at all towards even when we're already going left).
Mike had three suggestions for moving from 6s to 7s:
1) Increase the connection. I'm riding all kind and soft, with the attitude "oh, please, Mr. Willig, won't you pick up the connection, wouldn't that be nice?" instead of telling him and then picking it up, like the assertive person that I am (when people are using the nice word (assertive) instead of their other choices). This is probably the same problem over fences, that my fellow boarder observed ("I didn't hear you growl when he was intending to refuse?")
2) Increase the bend. Look at his inside eyelashes. Make him do it. We practiced this by clamping my outside hand onto his withers, and then pulling my inside hand to my hip bone. He can do it; and he doesn't mind doing it. It's my pansy attitude.
3) Make him sparkle by trotting on the verge of lengthening. Don't ride it delicate or conservative - it's 5-6 minutes of my life - ride every second and ride it hard. This extra oomph is what's missing - I get timid at a show because I don't want to mess up, so I ride the test conservatively instead of going for the 8 and maybe breaking in a movement and getting a 4.
The other things we talked about:
- I drew a picture of what I thought shoulder in, haunches in, renvers, and travers looked like, because I'm having trouble with where he is and where I am and how I ask for them. And it turns out, that's because I was visualizing them wrong. So Mike re-drew them, then also showed me on the ground, then at the end of the lesson, made me ride each one. I have some kind of mental block about this, so I'm going to have to study the drawings, practice with my body, and then practice, practice, practice. The big thing I got out of today, was - like using my canter aid further back from my last lesson - I'm not moving my legs (outside leg aid, inside leg aid) just squeezing like an anaconda - so how in the world would he know which of those he's supposed to be doing?
- If I want Willig to "sparkle" in his tests and start getting 7s and 8s instead of 6s (something the test scores have consistently said this year is pretty much that we're on the cusp and need to take that step), I need to RIDE him like a 7 and 8 during my rides; not just with Mike. This is the "slowly learning the blindingly obvious" part of the title of this post. Sometimes it is embarrassing how long it takes me to catch on to something that is really common sense. If out of 14 rides, 13 are lazy, why in the world would he think the 1/14 is the goal?
- I struggled with riding into the corners from our last lesson. That's because I was overdoing it. Mike said for Training and 1st level, it's ok to start your corner 5 meters from the corner (about quarter line between C and M, for example) and then end it about 5 meters from the corner (about the letter, which I think is 6 meters). So I don't have to ride him deep in the corner (yet - they do at upper levels).
- The 7 minute warm up? While not ok at a recognized show, Mike said a younger horse or a horse at the lower level can be ready to go - it's a mental block on my end. And I immediately thought of other times I wouldn't neurotically be there two hours ahead of time (traffic jam, flat tire, won't load, forget something), so that ended up being a good opportunity to think and learn about how to handle that differently in the future. (Although yes, we probably would have had more sparkle with my 45 minute warm up. And ok, probably the refusals in show jumping were because I didn't warm up there either, because I didn't like the footing.)
- Make Willig respond. The first time is ok, but he better go by the second. And it shouldn't be me doing the work but him. When I give the canter aid, he better canter that second - not when he feels like it four seconds later.
- For example, the stretchy circle needs to stretch by the time we start the circle, not half way around. When I ask for shoulder-in, I want it on the first step, not half way down the arena.
- His leg yields were very nice. Think about being a waitress holding a very heavy tray and keeping everything together the whole movement - don't let him wobble half way after he starts really nice.
- I think there was something else brilliant, but it's escaping me at the moment.
Non-lesson thoughts:
When I was cleaning his feet before I rode, he kicked me with his hind feet (made contact with first one, I was ready for second one), so after I rode I utilized my very dusty and rusty horse massage skills, and woo-weeeee Willig had some knots. I feel sorry for him. So I gave him a vitrolin rub and tried to rub out the biggest knots, and I'll try again this weekend.
I also finished reading the Pony Club D manual, where I somewhat horrifyingly learned a few things I didn't know. There's an adult pony club called Horse Masters, but it doesn't look like anyone has started one in Olympia yet.
And for the next two recognized shows, I'm going to volunteer for each of the segments and try to learn through observation (something I have been woefully inadequate on for a few years now), and then MAYBE sign up for NWEC.
Mike had three suggestions for moving from 6s to 7s:
1) Increase the connection. I'm riding all kind and soft, with the attitude "oh, please, Mr. Willig, won't you pick up the connection, wouldn't that be nice?" instead of telling him and then picking it up, like the assertive person that I am (when people are using the nice word (assertive) instead of their other choices). This is probably the same problem over fences, that my fellow boarder observed ("I didn't hear you growl when he was intending to refuse?")
2) Increase the bend. Look at his inside eyelashes. Make him do it. We practiced this by clamping my outside hand onto his withers, and then pulling my inside hand to my hip bone. He can do it; and he doesn't mind doing it. It's my pansy attitude.
3) Make him sparkle by trotting on the verge of lengthening. Don't ride it delicate or conservative - it's 5-6 minutes of my life - ride every second and ride it hard. This extra oomph is what's missing - I get timid at a show because I don't want to mess up, so I ride the test conservatively instead of going for the 8 and maybe breaking in a movement and getting a 4.
The other things we talked about:
- I drew a picture of what I thought shoulder in, haunches in, renvers, and travers looked like, because I'm having trouble with where he is and where I am and how I ask for them. And it turns out, that's because I was visualizing them wrong. So Mike re-drew them, then also showed me on the ground, then at the end of the lesson, made me ride each one. I have some kind of mental block about this, so I'm going to have to study the drawings, practice with my body, and then practice, practice, practice. The big thing I got out of today, was - like using my canter aid further back from my last lesson - I'm not moving my legs (outside leg aid, inside leg aid) just squeezing like an anaconda - so how in the world would he know which of those he's supposed to be doing?
- If I want Willig to "sparkle" in his tests and start getting 7s and 8s instead of 6s (something the test scores have consistently said this year is pretty much that we're on the cusp and need to take that step), I need to RIDE him like a 7 and 8 during my rides; not just with Mike. This is the "slowly learning the blindingly obvious" part of the title of this post. Sometimes it is embarrassing how long it takes me to catch on to something that is really common sense. If out of 14 rides, 13 are lazy, why in the world would he think the 1/14 is the goal?
- I struggled with riding into the corners from our last lesson. That's because I was overdoing it. Mike said for Training and 1st level, it's ok to start your corner 5 meters from the corner (about quarter line between C and M, for example) and then end it about 5 meters from the corner (about the letter, which I think is 6 meters). So I don't have to ride him deep in the corner (yet - they do at upper levels).
- The 7 minute warm up? While not ok at a recognized show, Mike said a younger horse or a horse at the lower level can be ready to go - it's a mental block on my end. And I immediately thought of other times I wouldn't neurotically be there two hours ahead of time (traffic jam, flat tire, won't load, forget something), so that ended up being a good opportunity to think and learn about how to handle that differently in the future. (Although yes, we probably would have had more sparkle with my 45 minute warm up. And ok, probably the refusals in show jumping were because I didn't warm up there either, because I didn't like the footing.)
- Make Willig respond. The first time is ok, but he better go by the second. And it shouldn't be me doing the work but him. When I give the canter aid, he better canter that second - not when he feels like it four seconds later.
- For example, the stretchy circle needs to stretch by the time we start the circle, not half way around. When I ask for shoulder-in, I want it on the first step, not half way down the arena.
- His leg yields were very nice. Think about being a waitress holding a very heavy tray and keeping everything together the whole movement - don't let him wobble half way after he starts really nice.
- I think there was something else brilliant, but it's escaping me at the moment.
Non-lesson thoughts:
When I was cleaning his feet before I rode, he kicked me with his hind feet (made contact with first one, I was ready for second one), so after I rode I utilized my very dusty and rusty horse massage skills, and woo-weeeee Willig had some knots. I feel sorry for him. So I gave him a vitrolin rub and tried to rub out the biggest knots, and I'll try again this weekend.
I also finished reading the Pony Club D manual, where I somewhat horrifyingly learned a few things I didn't know. There's an adult pony club called Horse Masters, but it doesn't look like anyone has started one in Olympia yet.
And for the next two recognized shows, I'm going to volunteer for each of the segments and try to learn through observation (something I have been woefully inadequate on for a few years now), and then MAYBE sign up for NWEC.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Last two show jumping
My barn friend got some great shots (in addition to saving my neck with the changed dressage ride time), although I missed out on a cheap photographer deal for xc.
I took the best xc shot and made it the new entry photo. What I like the best is ... I'm smiling! I'm having a good time over the last fence!
(Ok, and I like my position too.)
Show jumping
In the rain.
Although these are small (and I'm on the other side of the arena and it's raining), I like how much my position has improved if you look back at old (wincingly bad position) pictures in the blog.
CVPC Derby
What a mixed bag!
There was a mix-up with my entry, and although they didn't have it, they graciously included me Sunday. But then my dressage time changed from 1:30 to 11:30 after the last time I checked. So when I leisurely pulled in, expecting to go walk the course a couple of times, it turns out I had 15 minutes to tack up Willig and warm up. Thanks to my barn friends (they did the grooming and tacking while I changed clothes) I shot over to the check-in with about 7 minutes to warm up. But the two riders before me didn't show, so after only about two laps of trot, they asked me if I would go ahead! I asked for a couple more minutes, and then after a whopping 3 minutes of warm up, we rode the dressage test.
And scored the right score for the test, but a lousy score for the class. #18 out of 24! There was a stupid error on my part (I halted at x) which wouldn't have mattered whether my test had been two hours later or not, but that was kind of discouraging since it's Willig's strongest suit.
Then the footing was not so great in the show jumping warm up, so I only popped a couple of fences. Although Willig was a tiny bit squirrely, it was only a tiny bit, so I merrily made my way towards fence 1, which he tried to refuse, and then popped from a walky-stop thing, shooting me out of the stirrups but back onto his back, and I only just barely got them on again for fence 2. This was a course with a lot of "tight" turns (for airplane carrier manuverability Willig), so then we may or may not have had a run-out at the last second at 3, and then definitely a run out at 4, where I didn't yank the opposite way, but got him right back in front of the fence and beat him while he tried to jump it from a halt, and then I felt sorry for him and turned around and he jumped 4-9 fine.
But the xc course had the teeniest, tiniest ditch (it was disguised behind a ground pole), and show jumping plus the "ditch", plus then warm-up for xc (Willig started bucking when he landed) got my nerves all a twitter. And so, for the part I was the nerviest about, Willig was a champ. He tried to stop at fence 2 (I chose the direct, taller route - using the very precise leg/crotch measuring system both fences 2 and '10' were novice height), and I had vacillated whether to go there at the 2nd fence. I decided to becuase a) I saw Zoe being scared of the jump judges at the long route, b) fence '10' was even bigger, and c) the taller alternate was hemmed in so it was harder to run-out. So he did one of his walky-jumps, but after that was a total, absolute rock star, who utterly redeemed himself from his show jumping hijinks.
We only came in #14 (out of 24) at the end, but for Willig's first go Beginner Novice? I'm pretty stoked. I'm not sure it's worth it to ride recognized this year, but I think we'll be ready for sure next season.
By the by, when I was riding yesterday to get ready, I tried to think of the most scary way we could ride. I took him straight outside and worked only at poodle side until a nasty downpour made us run for the indoor. And a lot of our home fences are 2'11" now, and I just want to point out (to myself) - from last year to this year? HUGE PROGRESS. That's huge. Amazing. I didn't think we'd make it how last year was going.
So now it's just going back and refocusing on WHY he refuses the show jumps and how to stop those last minute run-outs. I suspect they're only last minute to me - that someone on the ground can see them coming a few strides out.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Willig remembered our deal; I didn't
Two lessons ago, we rode the Forest Park xc fences, and I made a deal with Willig that if he could be the rockstar, I'd get him the next time. So he was.
Then, the next time was in the downpour schooling at NWEC, I asked him to just cart me one more time, and I'd get him the next time. So he did.
And then I promptly forgot that Willig has ever been the slightest bit difficult and today rode him like a little delicate pansy until he made sure I remembered the deal and actually rode him - in the freakishly bizarre second rain storm we've ridden in. It's MID-July!!!
Take-aways:
1. Shannon said if I feel comfortable at the canter then I'm not going fast enough. Take it up just a little notch. (Same goes for her, which always helps me to hear.)
2. RIDE. Him. Assertively. Poor Shannon, having to say that every freaking lesson for two years now. When he's in an ADD mood, I have to ride every second of every step (but not over ride; just be ready for the corrections). He was doing some quick spins and run-outs today, and even though it felt like a slow motion train wreck coming, I just couldn't get my act together to correct it before it happened, and he'd spin, and I'd circle and we'd take the fence. The baby step good news is that we don't have to putter around for an hour in between the bad behavior and the next fence.
3. Ride him in front of my leg, in a defensive posture, with my legs in front of me, and my seat deep, and let him lift me over the fence. i.e. Stop overjumping. When he's coming in short or long, I tend to overjump because I'm anxious because I feel that we're short or long.
4. Use whip, voice, leg. Do not start pulling. Give him a long approach to look at the fence. Particularly if he's having an ADD moment.
I think those are the high points. It was a good lesson because I jumped him Wednesday and he was easy and fine, so I came in with a really "he's cooooolll, dude" kind of approach. Which is fine if he's cool, but I'm not adapting quickly enough. So although I'm disappointed he was in a mood, I'm glad we had the learning opportunity in the lesson BEFORE the show. And I have my fingers crossed for a good Willig/good riding day there.
Then, the next time was in the downpour schooling at NWEC, I asked him to just cart me one more time, and I'd get him the next time. So he did.
And then I promptly forgot that Willig has ever been the slightest bit difficult and today rode him like a little delicate pansy until he made sure I remembered the deal and actually rode him - in the freakishly bizarre second rain storm we've ridden in. It's MID-July!!!
Take-aways:
1. Shannon said if I feel comfortable at the canter then I'm not going fast enough. Take it up just a little notch. (Same goes for her, which always helps me to hear.)
2. RIDE. Him. Assertively. Poor Shannon, having to say that every freaking lesson for two years now. When he's in an ADD mood, I have to ride every second of every step (but not over ride; just be ready for the corrections). He was doing some quick spins and run-outs today, and even though it felt like a slow motion train wreck coming, I just couldn't get my act together to correct it before it happened, and he'd spin, and I'd circle and we'd take the fence. The baby step good news is that we don't have to putter around for an hour in between the bad behavior and the next fence.
3. Ride him in front of my leg, in a defensive posture, with my legs in front of me, and my seat deep, and let him lift me over the fence. i.e. Stop overjumping. When he's coming in short or long, I tend to overjump because I'm anxious because I feel that we're short or long.
4. Use whip, voice, leg. Do not start pulling. Give him a long approach to look at the fence. Particularly if he's having an ADD moment.
I think those are the high points. It was a good lesson because I jumped him Wednesday and he was easy and fine, so I came in with a really "he's cooooolll, dude" kind of approach. Which is fine if he's cool, but I'm not adapting quickly enough. So although I'm disappointed he was in a mood, I'm glad we had the learning opportunity in the lesson BEFORE the show. And I have my fingers crossed for a good Willig/good riding day there.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)