Two jump lessons and two good lessons

Shannon let me ride her training-level eventer, Charlie, for my Saturday lesson, and wooo-weee it was fun! (And educational. But mostly fun.)
We had a little 3-jump course with a little vertical and a bendy line, although of course Shannon had us start out on the flat. Charlie was soooo much easier to ride than Willig, both in his attentiveness and responsivness, and just sitting on him and riding. Especially when we started the canter, it was like sitting on a lake in a gently rocking boat, instead of, oh, on a surfboard in a hurricane.
When I asked Charlie for a down transition, he did it the SECOND that I asked, so I was constantly lurching forward because I wasn't ready for it when I asked for it, which did an amazing job of showing me how Willig has trained me back. I expect the transition to come at least two strides after I ask for it.
Charlie was also a total gentlemen when he'd pop his head up and I'd ask him to come back into connection with the bit, he'd do it immediately. I noticed his ears spent an awful lot of time listening to me, instead of radaring around looking for things to be scared of.
Although Charlie has (or maybe used to have) some of Willig's bad habits (not all of them, and he's got a few different ones), Shannon has had him since he was a young little colt (3, I think), and has trained him to be quite the nice horse.
The only other stand-out thing on the flat (other than how much fun I was having riding someone responsive) was that I had a terrible time getting him to pick up the ... right lead. When we switched to the left, he did it instantly. So when we went back to the right, I figured out it was my leg not moving back from the hip (what Mike has been telling me, and where I think the chiropractor connects in). I usually just squeeze, but when I'm "moving my leg back" I'm really just lifting it up to the saddle pad, which just confused Charlie. It was neat, if a bit painful, to see how horses read us.
When we jumped, Charlie was really gung-ho. It scared me a bit, because he actually went towards and over the jumps, and I had to think "1-2-1-2" to keep him steady and even on the way there. But he also just flew - it was soooooo easy to stay balanced on top of him, even the couple of times he took off a bit long or short - and (big sigh of relief) I do still love jumping. I haven't become a 35 year old chicken. Willig is just hard to jump. I also, even though I didn't know Charlie, noticed that I came to each fence so much more relaxed than I approach any fence (or anything) on Willig. I could sit back and wait for the fence because I wasn't anxious.
I was grinning for the entire rest of the day because I had so much fun riding him.

I rode Willig after that lesson, but we just puttered around indoors, went on a walk in the outdoor arena, and then went on a walk and did some hills and the water in the pasture. He was fine, not very spooky.
I did a lot of comparison, and the best way I can think of to describe it is that Willig is kind of squirrely compared to Charlie. He is constantly jerking and moving, and to ride him, I have to think about like 10 different things at a time, while Charlie I could just THINK about 1 or 2, and then just RIDE the rest. Willig doesn't pay as much attention to me as he does to the external world, he's harder physically to sit on, and he kind of jerks around, like a jumpy computer screen, even when he's being perfectly well behaved. I can't quite put my finger on how to describe the difference, but it makes a HUGE difference in how I sit up there.
Then today we had another jump lesson, but on Willig. He started out a tiny bit off (and he has a little patch of three hives. Compared to the last two years, they are staying under control instead of exploding over his whole neck and body, but they itch, which is different) but worked through it, something I have seen a handful of times. Then he was being a kook about the far end, even with Shannon standing at the gate, but we had to ride down there because another lesson was at the "friendly" end. This turned out to be good, because when we started jumping, he tried to bolt (he didn't try hard, but he tried) twice after the fence, and twice I managed to pull him the other direction and put him back to work. But then, we came around the corner and he did some leapy spastic thing and I finally just got, instead of scared, MAD, and started RIDING him, and then he was a gentleman the entire rest of the lesson.
So we did a three fence course from two different directions, and although he also came in a bit funny a few times (because he was looking at the lesson and other riders instead of the fence), he jumped each one like a champ. The big takeaway was that on the flat, when he kept being a goof, I kept being mad, until after a few laps Shannon started telling me what to do, and then the light bulb went off - why would I expect him to act different on his own each lap? I need to tell him what i want him to do different.
Let me go ahead and make this a take away message - I'm still slow on the punishment and almost non-existent on the praise. How in the world do I expect Willig to learn when I am not consistent, and when I almost never tell him "that's what I wanted, good boy"? He has no idea what I want from him without that effort on my part to breach the species-divide, and I'm just like a lousy girlfriend/parent, who nags nags nags and never shows appreciation. So Shannon had to remind me a couple of times, but I am trying harder to remember to either say "good boy" or give him a scratch with my fingers (I don't like to pat his neck) when he's done something that I asked.
And then I was jumping ahead in a big way, and when I opened my mouth to tell Shannon, I realized I should just fix it, so I went to each fence after that thinking "defensive heels" and that solved it.
Then I rode him thinking 1-2-1-2-1-2 to each fence, and then softening two strides out, and that took care of pretty much everything else.
And I also, because we were working on two curvy lines (for us), looked for the next fence. That worked spectacularly well when it was just one fence on a circle, and was not as good when I was doing the whole course.
Willig was a champ. I had a good time, although when he did his leapy thing, I held my breath and just about killed myself trying to ride him afterwards beacause I hadn't been breathing.
Shannon was happy because I actually rode him, and when I did, he responded really well. And I was happy because I handled the little events, and then knew (finally!) what to do with his antics.

Horse people

We were at the bank yesterday, and the woman we were talking with had a picture of her daughter showjumping their AQHA stallion over a nice size looking fence. She mentioned that she needed to get her knee replaced, and before I could make a joke to avoid her saying it was from a horse, she said it was from her years of barrel racing. The *second* we walked out the door, Tom pounced on it.
Also, the same horsey friend with the 4-yo OTTB from the last post was telling me how her husband gets excited when she comes home after a bad day of riding and grumbles about the time and the money and why do we do this, and then is deflated when the next day she comes home from a great day of riding.
I don't know other people who get the same kind of pent up stress if they don't get to ride. It's like turning the valve and letting off my steam. Even if it has been mostly the painful (and arduous) kind of learning lately instead of the fun kind of learning.

2 steps away from my huff (and two halves)

I had a good dressage lesson yesterday. The take away homework was:
- Lean back during the sitting trot and "firm up" my core. No more wavy following, but a firm, controlled "bounce". I can only just barely feel what my body is doing when I get it right - it is some refined motor control I don't control yet, but when I get it right, I feel Willig lift up in his shoulders. It feels to me kind of like, lean back (which is really just straight), think belly button pulled into spine like in pilates, have my heels and lower legs right, and then it is kind of a "sucking" him up on the down step with my inner thighs and butt. But it is something a little more than that, and I can't put my finger on what I am doing when I hit the last magic button, and I also can't make them all align at once when I want them to.
- Work on the responsiveness to the aids. Walk-trot-walk-halt-walk-canter-trot-walk immediately.
- Keep the correct bend in the shallow loops of counter canter. I have been, with that pesky right hand, turning his neck to the right.
- Work on "horsey sit ups" - the collected, small 10 meter canter. Do the responsiveness on a circle spiraling in, when I get in, ask for the canter, hold it for 2-3 strides, and then go big and let him trot. These are the rough foundation stones for the next cool stuff to come. Side note: 2-3 strides of this is like the same as 10 minutes of regular trotting around the arena - hard stuff.
Willig was pretty much a gentleman and worked pretty hard.
I am crossing my fingers that his recent few months of being kind of a doofus are the transition into starting 2nd level movements and polishing our 1st level, and that it's his way of testing me to see if I'm really going to make him work. And maybe we have, for the moment, passed that hurdle and he's back to giving me his good work outs.
The half step away from my huff is he was also good for J today, who jumped him on a bendy line.
The half step back toward my huff is a new horsey friend who bought a 4 year old off the track thoroughbred 6 months ago, showed him at the end of the year last year, and he jumps 3', ditches, and banks without batting an eye. (shaking my fist at the sky) He's a real cutie too.

A jump lesson that resulted in one step away from my huff

Today Shannon worked us hard, but effectively got me one step out of my bad mood that I've been stewing in for the past couple weeks.
Willig started out lazy on the lunge line and in our warm up (**and he has, on the left side of his neck, a whole nest of baby hives percolating**), but then, just after Shannon set up a new fence and before we could get going, he spooked at a flock of European starlings out the "scary" end, and then pretty much stayed in a mood the rest of the lesson. Unfortunately, that was really only about 20 minutes in, so I had 40 minutes of his mood.
The good news is that Shannon warned me at the beginning of the lesson to ride tough (mentally) and so it gave her the opportunity to teach me how to ride tough in a good lesson setting - not too crazy, but not Sweety McPacker either.
So we did a little cross rail with ground poles and a little vertical with ground poles, the latter with, when going clockwise, a hard right turn around the other fence, which scared me about making the turn but turned out to be doable. He tried to dart out to the right the first couple times over this, and miracle of miracles, I rode him to it, and used my wimpy right leg to keep him going "straight" over the fence instead of around it. Yay wimpy little right leg!
Then, as Shannon rearranged the fences into a little (2'3") oxer and a little bit bigger vertical than the first one, Willig decided he'd had enough of me not knowing how to stop him if he bolted, and gave us numerous opportunities for me to catch on. Mostly, these were him trying to bolt left (towards the barn; away from the scary end) so I had to pull HARD-right-fast. After a few times (thanks, Willig!*), I started to catch on, although I also just liked to steer him into the wall (not an option on cross country, I know).
(* = sarcasm)
So then we spent some time on a circle, then our first fence, then a circle with the new vertical (now smaller again), then other direction. This took a while.
Then he started acclerating toward the fence, and kind of rushing on the other side. So we worked on applying the brakes on the far side. Straight line to halt. This needed, sometimes, me leaning way back, and hands in the air pulling on his face, but after a few times of "oh, I'm really going to have to stop when Martha tells me to", he quit needing so much work.
This doesn't sound like much, but I was turning bright red and huffing and puffing because his head was like 2000 pounds of force, and so then Shannon had us work on control - squeeze, release, squeeze, release, and when she said halt, trot, back, or whatever, could I do it when she said to do it? Again, this one improved as we went along and Willig began to take me a bit more seriously, and (in Cartman's voice from South Park), "respect my author-a-tee".
Oh yeah, and somewhere in here Shannon turned on some vigorous music.
So then at the very end of the lesson we ended up with the circle we tried to start half way through the lesson - the vertical, past the scary end, over the oxer. Shannon wanted twice nice in a row, which we couldn't do the first couple times (rushing, mostly), so we had to do it a few times before we got something decent.
So the big change is to come into the fence, even from far out, with rhythm, and then keep it after the fence. It helped me a lot when Shannon said out loud 1-2-1-2 because I'd squeeze on 1 and release on 2 and it kept from me from ssqquuueeezzinggg the whole way to the fence.
Although not a fun lesson, it was a good confidence building and tool kit building lesson. Shannon's goal is to get me confident that I can jump him, and then hopefully that will be reflected in him building confidence that he can do whatever I am pointing him at - an upward spiral instead of the downward spiral we tend to fall into on our own. My goal is to be as comfortable as she and Mike are with shenanigans, and to ... get used to the idea that he's a horse and not a robot and isn't going to do exactly what I want him to do 100% of the time and is going to ... (news flash) act like a horse. Kind of a dumb ass horse, but that is another notch in the "lessons learned" belt for when I look for the next one. I'm fond of Willig, but he's teaching me really different stuff (good stuff, that I wish I learned a long time ago) than what I planned to learn from him, and I need to just get over that and accept where he's at and where I'm at and where we can go right now with that. I also need to remind myself, as I tend to be a black & white thinker, that when I'm feeling down, we're not going to be down the entire rest of my life, and when I'm on top of the world, enjoy it, because it isn't going to last either. Ahhh, meditation lessons creeping back in to my life to force me to learn them one way or the other.

My "show" goals for 2011

March 19 - Peteton - 1-1 & 1-2
March ? - School at NWEC
April 16 - Peteton - 1-2 & 1-3
April? - NWEC Adult Rider Derby - Hopeful
April 30 - Donida - Hopeful
April? - School at NWEC
April? - recognized dressage? (1-1 & 1-2)
May 14? - NWEC Pony Club - Hopeful
May 14 (if NWEC is a different day) - Peteton - 1-2 & 1-3 & BN Eventing
June - School at NWEC twice
June - recognized dressage?
June 25/26 - FPEC - Mike's recognized dressage show - 1-2 & 1-3 both days if I've done ok so far
July 2 - Peteton or Donida
July ? - School NWEC
July 16 - Caber Pony Club - BN **IF** Willig has placed in the top 3 in all hopefuls and hasn't done anything dumb like spook at poles on the ground or run-out or buck
July ? - recognized dressage
August 13 - Donida - BN (same as 7/16)
August 20 - Peteton - 1-3 & MAYBE 2-1 & BN eventing
August 27 - Caber Pony Club - BN (same as 7/16)
September ? - School NWEC
September 24 - Peteton - 1-3 & 2-1 & wildly, 2-2
September? - recognized dressage

Then, if all goes well, the longer term goals will be:
2012: BN recognized & unrecognized; 2nd level dressage; freestyle test for 1st
2013: BN recognized; N unrecognized; 2nd/3rd level dressage; freestyle test for 2nd
2014: N recognized & unrecognized; 3rd level dressage

And I dare not even hope we'd make it to training level & 4th level before Willig is 20.

Tidbits - chiropractor & 2 hives

Willig had one hive yesterday and a second one today, so tomorrow we are switching from Platinum Performance only, to Platinum, plus his Riva's Remedies herbs, and the Platinum mega-$ allergy stuff.
They don't really look like hives - more like two little bug bites, but since I can't imagine what bugs are out right now, better safe than sorry to try to nip this in the bud.

Also, I think the problem with the sitting trot (it was stiff) and Willig not picking up the right lead was my muscles being weird. I went to see a new chirpractor (long story that is really not that interesting) and he kept identifying these wack spots, and then telling me how the muscles being wack would affect me, and I kept thinking "well, that explains the sitting trot", "well, that explains the right lead the other day", "well, that further explains the sitting trot" on and on and on.
So hopefully, getting myself fixed up will help at least not give myself as many obstacles as possible riding.

Outside leg & Superjumper Willig

Today Tom came out to help me with feeling when Willig's outside hind leg leaves the ground at the walk and trot so I can refine my aids.
He also hung around so I could jump a bit with a spotter, and took this video of Willig doing a little course and a photo of the approximate height and spread of the training fence we did in our last jump lesson.
http://www.youtube.com/user/Tomonbelay?feature=mhum#p/a/u/0/N4ZE7v6lQSA
(Hopefully the link works. Otherwise, search for Tomonbelay's videos and then Martha and Willig and about today's date.)
Here's the aid:
When walking clockwise (to the right), it's when your left hip is pointing towards his right shoulder. (Unless I reversed it - because it's the opposite of what I expected it to be.)
When posting the trot, it's as your seat starts to hit the saddle to sit before lifting again.
When sitting the trot, it is the "deeper" sit.
Willig was a total champ with the fences, which look puny on tape.
Jumping today, which I got anxious about ahead of time, and then wanted to throw a party afterwards I was so happy he was so good, cemented the lesson from my last lesson with Shannon and made me come up with a little strategy for preparing for this season. It's what everyone knows, but I somehow forgot: when you jump 2'9" at home, 2'6" at the show looks like nothing.
**I'M** the one who wants to jump, Willig could care less, and so if **I** want to feel comfortable jumping 2'6", then I need to work up to 2'9" at home and every scary thing I can throw at him, so when we get to the show, we BOTH think - "Oh, man, the stuff at home is sooo much harder. This is a cakewalk." It's the same test for moving up to the next level.
I'm amazed at how many times I have to say "duh" to myself.

The elusive right lead canter

I don't know what was going on today, but we could not pick up the right lead canter to save our lives. Willig was doing gorgeous, beautiful collected canter work, and he has nooooo problem counter cantering, even on a little 10 meter circle. Or when I'm contorted around bending to the outside to "assist" him in picking it up correctly.
Now, of course, there's something actually going on with me (other than what appears to be a total mental riding break down), and somewhere on the right side of my body, I'm doing something that is so strong and powerful that it overrides the aids that I think I'm giving with the left side.
Today's take away is that I am so frustrated. Yesterday we had this decent ride where I finally felt like my heels got the message, and I was so looking forward to today's lesson to show that off, and instead, we could. not. pick. up. the. right. lead.
So I don't really have any takeaways, because all we did was flop around in circles and look like we had no idea what we were doing.
Mike spent a lot of time demonstrating what looked like yoga warrior moves to show me how a horse picks up its leads. He also talked about the bend in my body (not holding the inside leg on him when I'm asking him to pick up the lead), and moving my leg back (sliding it back, not just lifting my heel) to ask for the lead. And then we did this funky trot-walk-trot-walk-canter-trot-walk stuff where Mike changed it every few seconds, so that Willig had to LEAP off my aids and do the transition.
Mike was very satisfied with Willig's canter ability. He said it was basically 2nd level about to do flying changes. I gritted my teeth because it doesn't matter if we can do flying changes if we can't pick up the lead I'm asking for in a 1st level test. Or go past a spot where, horrors, someone raked and there are rake marks in the earth. He even spent extra time with me, and we still just flailed around, and then after he left, I started crying.
I don't know what's going on with me. I think I've hit a wall.

A more succinct way to state next year's goals

I'm not going to get any better by whining about not being better, so I should probably just shut up and ride already.

Reflections on 2010; Goals for 2011

I left my last dressage lesson and last jump lesson feeling down, instead of elated and excited, and I've been thinking about why for the last couple of days. That coincided perfectly with the normal tradition of reflecting back and looking forward for the New Year, so I thought I'd try to make some sense out of what my mood is about while setting some new goals - kind of a two birds with one stone sort of thing.
I think that I am still stymied by my expectations for him. I wanted a push-button horse. What I got was a horse who is teaching me how to ride, and it is much slower going than what I had in mind. I want instant, immediate gratification without having to work for it. I don't want to know how to ride - I want to get on a horse and have him perform flawlessly like a robot, predictable horse.
And yes, I realize that I don't actually want that. I'm proud of how far Willig and I have come together over the last year. I'm really, really grateful for how lucky and fortunate we are to have such an incredible barn and two trainers who work really well for us. (And who are patient with us.) Willig came at the right time for me to learn how to ride, before I got even older and more set in my ways. I just didn't realize that I didn't know how until he came along.

Looking Back at 2010:
In general, over the course of the year, Willig has gotten friendlier towards me. When he sees me coming to his paddock, he walks to meet me, and while I'm grooming him, he likes to groom me back. He also saved me from what would have been a humiliating deer-attack, despite his profound fear of deer. Then again, he also fell down while playing in a paddock when pretty much every one at the barn was looking.
I also have way more tools in my tool kit when he acts up, so I can feel it coming, and put a stop to it before he gets speed built up like a rocket. This is thanks to both Mike and Shannon, although mostly Shannon since he still pretty much refuses to act up in front of Mike (although other people have confirmed to Mike that indeed, he does act up when Mike is not there).
He did NOT get hives this fall (although he had them at the beginning of the year), and we got a "new" dressage saddle and a new Rambo blanket, and he's gained enough weight and muscle that this year he's going to have to ride with a pad with his jump saddle.
He went to quite a few unrecognized shows and derbies, and did pretty well at most of them. His lowest score was a 5th at a derby but that was where horses were eliminating right and left. He did jump a hopeful fence from a standstill at that show. He got high point or something at the one recognized dressage show we were at (Training level).
I have a lot of blog posts raving about awesome dressage and jumping lessons.
And, he got his portrait taken (and now on display at work and at home) by Mary Cornelius.

* Dressage *
At training level, he scored mostly from 61 - 66%.
I can sit a 1st level test at the trot.
We can also do all the 1st level movements.
We are starting to work on 2nd level movements.
That's pretty &*(*##&*&*(# spectacular, given that I have no idea what we're doing at 2nd level, and I haven't been able to sit the trot my entire life.
He's got awesome lateral movements.

* Jumping *
At the start of the year, he was still bucking and I was hardly ever riding him over fences.
He did so-so at the shows, at some kicking butt and at others, being spooky. While he was consistently in the ribbons, he wasn't consistent at the shows. Shannon has suggested this has to do with who is designing the courses and I should be more selective.
At Caber Pony Club x-country, we actually had fun.
Jumping without stirrups rapidly and dramatically improved my leg position. And I got WAY more comfortable in my jump position.
He ended the year jumping training level height and a scary fence without running out. And no bucking. And he carried me over it, because I was a useless sack of nerves.
J's work with him has really shown. He has built a LOT of confidence.

Goals for 2011:
In an ideal world, we'll sell the truck and trailer and get a "new" lightweight trailer.
But his saddle will probably have to wait until 2012 if the stuff we have on the agenda comes together (like Nepal for a month).
Next year I swear I will give him a better clip job. Poor guy.
And I hope the crap on his nose goes away.

* Dressage *
Keep polishing 1st level movements.
Keep polishing "basics" (heels down, hands still and steady, leaning back, my aids)
Work on 2nd level movements.
Show unrecognized and recognized 1st level.
Start making 1st level freestyle test.

* Jumping *
Keep working on "basics" (heels down, legs defensive in front (being left behind over fence), hands still, even, & steady, better use of half halt and dressage, cluck, use my legs, and use my whip to be the boss and tell him what to do (i.e. ride assertively towards the fence))
Continue to work on confidence - go over anything scary like a cone
Continue to work outdoors/away from security of indoor arena
Continue to work on trails & riding in pasture
Continue to haul to derbies (and maybe other places?) to make travel ho-hum
Work on height at home - be comfortable over 2'6" when competing hopeful; 2'9" when move up to beginner novice (this should be after no more silly spooking at shows - and consistently placing in top 3)
Ideally, ride beginner novice by end of season.
(Next year (2012) we'll add ditches and banks and maybe (!) recognized shows.)

So to repeat a quote from back in August:
"The measure of success is not whether you have a tough problem to deal with, but whether it is the same problem you had last year."
- John Foster Dulles

Willig was a superstar today (me, not so much)

In today's jump lesson, Willig did a few really cool things:
He took the lead and took care of the jumps, without me helping, and with me, frankly, in some places hindering.
He jumped a training level height fence. More than once. Probably he kept his eyes open.
He jumped a new "scary" fence without running out the first time at it.
What were the take aways?
I've become a complete and utter chicken. I barely peeped out one or two clucks at him, and my "aggressive" riding towards the fence was one or two pitiful leg twitches. My whip never moved. My mouth never opened.
Long version:
It was cold out. 20 maybe in the morning. I tried to get to the barn in time to lunge Willig, but like usual, ran out of time, so Shannon gave me a few extra minutes to finish lunging and warm him up. Despite being ridden twice yesterday (jumping with J, going over a piece of garland on a trot pole with me), and being lunged, once I got on him he wanted to shy at the bundle of jump pieces.
So we started with that. Leg yield past it. If he tries to look, ok to use my hand to bend him to the inside (and then release), and if he's a goof, make a small circle and go past it again.
Then Shannon set up two jumps on a circle - roughly 3:00 and 9:00, but angled on the circle instead of perpendicular to the walls. At first, it was a little cross rail with a couple of cones under it and a little vertical. Next it became a little vertical with the cones and a vertical with some small white poles angled, to kind of make a steeplechase, only not really anything like a steeplechase (I can't think of how else to describe it).
Shannon's message was: RIDE him to it and over it, which we did. Remarkably. (Remarkable that we did it, not remarkably well.)
Then we switched directions (and she switched the sides) and he did it again.
Then she made the cone fence taller, and he did just fine.
Then she made the cone fence enormous - training level height which is about the belts on your waist if you wear them like an old person (it looked like - well, frankly, it looked like the top of my car, even from tall Willig's back).
I did NOT want to do this fence, mostly because Willig, when he feels overmatched, will run out, quickly, and/or buck. Which is what he did the first time at it - ran out, tried to buck, but we ran into the corner. Not his worst behavior, by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to rattle me.
And so Shannon had us do it again. And he did it, gorgeously. I mean, when he jumps, he is fantastic. It is so easy to stay centered over him and we just FLOAT in the air. It's fabulous.
Only when we landed, I started to cry. Huge, sobbing, like a little kid crying. It was horrifyingly embarrassing.
And then Shannon told us to do it again and I ... couldn't.
So the next few times took a lot of extra laps, mostly because my left hand (the outside hand) was like "hell no we're not doing that again" and would, apparently, take us in a circle to the left (the jump was to the right). Like so much of its own volition, that I was sure Willig was doing it, despite Shannon (and the other rider) telling me they could see ME doing it.
But he did it. Gorgeous both times. The last time he came in a bit short, but managed to get over it pretty gracefully notwithstanding, and thank god Shannon didn't make us do it again.
I haven't ever ridden another horse that jumps like him. When there's actually a bit of height to the fence, he swells up underneath me - kind of like a wave - it's like those rare moments when we hit everything just right in the sitting trot and he collects and he's got impulsion from behind, and the sky opens up and angels sing and it's just ... amazing.
But. I was terrified. I was so proud that yesterday we walked, trotted, and cantered over a pole with garland on it that was maybe 3" off the ground. Today Shannon added 3' (though, thank god, without the garland).
So what to work on?
Well, all the basics. My heels, defensive lower leg, my hands being still and even, and clear, consistent aids and responses.
But then - helping him as we approach the fences - no pulling back, encouraging him with my leg, encouraging him with my voice and whip if I need to.
And being the boss. Willig is scared of the fences (and I'm scared of him) so I need to fake being doubly brave for both of us.
I don't know. Like my dressage lesson, Shannon was thrilled with Willig, and I left feeling like an empty sack of a rider. Not elated that we accomplished it, not excited about doing it again, just - deflated.

Good, but not good, dressage lesson

Today's dressage lesson was a little weird. Mike was really happy with some of it, and there were certainly moments of brilliance, but overall, I felt like I didn't really catch on technically to what we were doing, and like maybe I didn't have good enough understanding of the feel either, to repeat it. So we'll see what happens tomorrow when I try to do it by myself.
We started out on our transitions. (Also, within 5 minutes Mike had to tell me to put my heels down. And then he had to tell me at least 10 more times over the course of the 45 minute lesson. I HATE my heels.) From trot to canter, we have been increasingly slipping into this diving down thing, where Willig's nose goes towards the ground and I tilt forward - I usually bend in half a bit.
So Mike fixed that by watching us struggle for a while, then getting on himself, riding Willig for less than five minutes, putting me right back on him while it was fresh in Willig's head, and then doing it over and over until I got it right.
The interesting part was, while Mike was "poofing up" Willig's shoulder air bag (what makes him so delightful to ride after Mike has been on him, before I deflate him back down again), Willig did an ugly buck and donkey kick. Mike reacted near instantaneously, lifting both hands to lift Willig's head, and then smacking him with the whip. His reaction was so fast I had hardly processed what had happened, but the buck was quite impressive to see from the ground. No wonder he unseats me.
And it made me wonder - he's been naughty going on two months now. Maybe (probably wishful thinking) but maybe because he's having to work harder?
So, the steps for a correct transition up from trot to canter are:
Lean back; think firm core
Tickle with legs and hands
Ask with outside leg sliding up and back
And lift hands up
Do NOT let him rush forward or speed up
He should kind of "jump" up into the canter (it's very, very obvious when he does this)
And then immediately hold him there (thinking collected canter) rather than shove my hands forward and let him immediately nose dive
This work made Willig tired (although it also was hard for him to look at stuff and be spooky) and he got heavier and heavier and heavier in my hands.
When we got it right: sparkly brilliant.
But for the most part, I got it wrong. He'd pick up the wrong lead. He'd stumble a bit. He'd try to dive down. (That's not his fault, he's been diving for like 3 years now with me. Although he knows how to do it properly, I haven't been asking, so he needs to learn to do it proper now.)
Then, this sort of connected with the down transition (from canter to trot). I'd lift him up into my seat (I'd kind of squeeze with my leg and my inner thigh while kind of lifting with my hands, and his back kind of lifts up into my butt) 1-2-3 strides and then lean back just a bit for the down transition. A few of these were the floating ones that are easy to sit. For the most part, we'd go back to jarring around.
I let my reins go too loose (they are always sliding out) and so Mike said to stick between the 2nd and 3rd leather loop on the reins and hold it there. I think one reason why my hands felt "high" is because they're much further up on the reins than I'm used to.
And then we worked for a tiny bit on the sitting trot. I'm getting all stiff and bracing, and Mike was trying to get me to "bounce" on the ball on purpose, but this was really hard.
When we ended, he had us do the "impossible" 10 meter circle (from the jump lesson and the last lesson with him) and it was almost no big deal. A big difference from the last few lessons.
Mike says that I'm very close with the sitting trot, but we have let it slide a bit, and that I just need to "get" the movement. He had me watch J warming up for a bit, but all I can see is that she's pretty close to motionless but obviously doing something. (Just like whatever magic happens when Mike gets on Willig. I really, really, really want to learn how to make his shoulder balloons blow up.)

Cones are ho-hum, but jackets? Oh my!

Thank goodness I have had time and money for extra lessons this month, because Willig has been a handful. Today was my third jump lesson of the month, and we are now unafraid of the cone, but one of us (ahem, me) remains afraid of jackets.
With that ...
I thought Willig might be a bit mellow today, since he had a hard dressage lesson Wednesday, got ridden by me and J on Thursday, and then I got out there and was warming him up just a few minutes before the lesson. Oh, no. He was looking at the little jump, just trying to see what surprises were in store for him today.
Let me back up. J used his "box o' scary stuff" on Thursday to jump him and reported that he doesn't like to trot towards something new the first time and will try to get out of the approach, but that he'll walk towards it no problem, look at it, and then trot it fine the second time. Then I put out the giant Popeye we got (I'll have to take a picture and post it - he is enormous - like the size of a toddler) and Willig snorted the whole way into the arena, but being the crafty human, I thought ahead and brought sugar cubes and gave him random rewards for approaching Popeye. He couldn't get ENOUGH of Popeye after that.
But all of that was forgotten by this morning when we started warming up.
I had a couple "feel" questions for Shannon that I thought I got from my dressage lesson but then didn't seem to have when I rode the next day. Mostly, what is the difference between the body position that means "halt" and the one that means "half halt" (and thus, collect)? Shannon said the "hold". You "hold" until he halts (or does a down transition) but the half halt you ask-release-ask-release, usually while you're also using a leg aid.
She also pointed out that my description (which includes pushing down and tilting forward with my pelvis) could just maybe suggest that I shouldn't be doing it (just describing it makes me want to hollow MY back), and then noticed that my saddle is sitting a bit close on his withers and I should try riding with a gel pad.
This goes with an off-hand remark that one of her boarders/instructors/helpers made while going past us, about how much weight Willig has gained in the last year. And then she said something so obvious that I hadn't thought of it, "I bet that has made him kind of spunky."
Why, yes. Yes, it has. THAT'S why I could ride him two years ago. He was skinny and weak and I could "overpower" him. Now he is healthy and happy and glossy and, yes, spunky.
The two easy take-aways from today's lesson:
- On the flat: Quit riding with my hands and ride with my legs!
- Over fences: Ride towards the fence like I mean it!
The details:
Willig wanted to look to the outside while we warmed up on a 20 meter circle, and we got in this big fight with my hands where I try to crank his head back to the inside while Shannon says "use your leg!" and I use my leg and he ignores me so I crank his neck again. This is EXACTLY what we worked on with Mike and it worked (but nasty tricky Willig is always good and does it immediately and perfectly in front of Mike) so I think I need to master these aids at the halt and walk and then be consistent with them and retrain him away from my heavy hands.
This was to the point where Shannon had me hold onto the breastplate with my outside hand so I would stop using it.
I also ride around with them uneven, and slipping out, and she's constantly telling me to even them up and shorten the reins.
He was a bit frisky, so she had us ride harder than I would - canter, canter faster, trot, walk, canter, canter faster, until he was listening.
Next, we took the same old fence and he popped right over it from the trot.
Then she put out two ground lines, about 7' on either side of the fence (instead of the normal 9'). She asked us to make a 10 meter canter circle, to collect him up (also what we worked on with Mike two days ago) and just like with the bending, we couldn't get our act together. I got so frustrated I actually started to cry. I miss sweet, reliable Mercury. He wanted to look out the door or look at the fence or whatever was looking somewhere else and not working, and then because his head was looking around, I'd start wrastling with my hands like he was a gator and then Shannon would tell me to put my hands down and keep them still so we'd start drifting all over the place (I kept being afraid we were going to run her over) and then we finally got it together enough to go over the fence, which he did perfectly fine. Several times in a row.
Then we tried it the other direction and the fight got worse. He REALLY wanted to look outside, and I REALLY didn't want him to, but then his head would go up and my hands would go up and we'd just go crazy spasticy all over the place in this weird cantery-trotty circle that was nothing like the shape of a circle and at one point I even made a very frustrated "Arrgghhh!"
From this side, oddly, he wanted to put his head up and race towards the fence, which was hard to stop while I was trying to have him all collected up, AND while thinking about leaning back and keeping my heels kicked in front of me.
Plus, those 10 meter circles and the collected canter? Oh my lord. I'm panting and sweating. When I got to the gym an hour later, my shirt was still soaking wet. (Sorry, gross.)
So, the good part was that for all those fences, he just went towards it and he figured it out, and even when he came in funny on the collected ones, he sorted his legs out without just blasting through it. The hard part was the stupid collected canter we just did, just fine, two days ago. I don't know why it didn't work today. The second time he kept picking up the wrong lead over and over and over and over.
Then Shannon turned the jump onto the long line, turned it into a vertical, had us canter it. No big deal, other than the entire approach before we make the U-turn, I start (on the left lead) yanking on my right hand about five minutes ahead. Even when Shannon is yelling "stop pulling on your right hand!" it just keeps pulling and ignoring me.
Then she put the cone under it. No big deal.
Then she put the cone under it and added a diagonal rail. No big deal.
Then she put the cone under it and turned it into a little oxer. No big deal.
Then she put her jacket on it. YIKES! We went shooting off the right and so I ran him into the wall to make him stop.
We walked back to it, he sniffed it, we made a circle and he went over it.
We came around, came around the corner, and he ran out again. This time we came back to it and he jumped it.
So we did it AGAIN and he did it just fine.
And this part is where it turns out it's me. Shannon said he would have jumped it just fine the first time, but I saw the jacket, don't trust him, and so instead of ...
kicking him forward and riding him assertively and defensively to the fence ...
I started pulling back and tightening him up.
She said I need to get faster and more assertive with my corrections (stop being afraid to use the whip and use it at the moment I need to - we also worked on how to hold my reins both in one hand, like a bridge, so I can use the other hand for a quick smack), but if I want to be an eventer, I have to want to go over the jump.
It's become a huge mental block. I'll make these baby steps, like last week's lesson going over the fence kicking as soon as we round the corner and approaching it, but then the second he does something different (raise his head) I panic and revert to curled up, tipping forward.
Shannon said my lower leg has improved a lot this year, so I'm a lot more stable on him, and she concurs with Mike that I need to learn to ride this or accept that I'm going to be a ploddy-around rider the rest of my life.
It was a great lesson, but oh boy. I just want to learn fast and easy, not this long, difficult way.

Well behaved Willig = dressage progress

I got oddly wiped out at work, was dreading more misbehavior from Willig, and knew I had some spare time with the holidays this weekend, so Willig got Monday and Tuesday off and just 20 minutes of lunging before my dressage lesson.
I was sure that finally Mike would get to see him acting up, since it seems like every day it's been something, but noooo ... he was a perfect student the entire ride.
That meant I didn't get any more tools for naughty Willig, but it also meant that we got to go back to working on our 1st and 2nd level lessons.
We started working in the middle and working our way to the scary end, which Willig remained remarkably blase about, even though J was out riding her young horse. A quick look here, a little bit of not wanting to bend to the inside there, one or two ear flicks. That was it for Willig's displeasure and anxiety.
We started with moving off the inside leg.
Here are the steps: Quiver leg; open outside hand (and shoulder!) if needed; smack with whip if being ignored.
So if I want him to bend left and leg yield right, I am keeping my right leg on for "forward", I am quivering my left leg for just a moment, I am opening my right hand and shoulder if I am being grippy and tense, and I am smacking with the whip if he doesn't respond promptly.
We tried it at a standstill, walk, then walking down the long lines, then using it in the "U-turns" of the long lines, then on a 20 meter circle. Worked like a charm.
It was a good lesson in the "overwork" that I do. I don't ask-release. I assskkkkkkkkkk.
Then we worked on a 20 meter circle on the scary end and where to start to maintain the bend past the scary side. So the scary side is 6:00. I start asking with the quivery leg at noon! WAY earlier than I have been doing! When I do that, by the time we get to 6, he is well into his routine.
This sounds so simple, but it was all fairly remarkable. I am (very slowly) catching on with more finesse to a lot of the things Mike has been telling me for months.
Then we worked on the canter. We did some collection before the canter so that he doesn't run into the canter by hurrying and falling in, but lifts up into it. This is sitting, leaning back with shoulders, tightening my stomach, and doing a big quiver with both legs while at the same time lifting my hands. I do 1-2-3 like that, and then SLIDE my outside leg back like it is a pair of scissors that is going to kick my saddle pad, and if he doesn't lift right up into it - the whip! (Which is in my outside hand for canter and walk, but inside hand for trot.)
After just a few tries, Willig caught on. (Mike says he is obviously already trained in all this stuff. An untrained horse wouldn't take just a couple times.)
Then we worked on a canter on a 10 meter circle, where I gave a similar 1-2-3 then trot, so that we would float like a feather into trot instead of plummet like a brick. In the canter, the 1-2-3 with sitting deep, leaning back, tightening my core, and lifting my hands - makes Willig's back lift up. It's like a balloon blowing up. Mike says that's collection. It's the same feeling that is there after Mike rides him, which then deflates as my butt squishes around on his back. Mike says that once I know how to do it, I'll never allow a horse to ride without it again.
Those transitions were awkward and ugly for a while, but every once in a while brilliant.
We ended with a bit of leg yield, and Mike says we need to work a bit on the bend in Willig's neck, but we can do that next.
Take Aways:
- On the 20 meter circle, it helps me to think of it as 100 tiny little leg yields. Like a centa-gon.
- Transitions. The 1-2-3 aid needs to be more obedient and crisp. Leg back for canter. When we canter in a line, speed up, slow down for 3, speed up, make a circle. All of this is so Willig starts to learn that aid does not mean "shift to trot" but "pay attention, we are about to do something different" and that is a whole world of things that we are just peeking at.
- At the canter, my legs need to be long and loose.
- Don't make him do his first "hard" moves in the scary corner. It's ok to make him think and keep him distracted, but don't set him up to fail by overwhelming him.
- Finally, getting to see Mike ride the other day, and Shannon ride on Sunday - one thing I noticed they both had in common was when the horse tried to be naughty, they nipped it right in the bud. I asked Mike my suspicion - it's not that Willig is particularly bad or naughty (I know he's not), it's just that I never rode a difficult horse before (even though I thought I did!), and I need to learn how to do this for all the future horses I'll ride. I need to learn the quick reactions and confidence that Mike and Shannon have. Mike said that's why it's useful when kids learn to put them on the tougher horses instead of the easy ones. He says he has worked with me long enough that he knows I'd get bored with a horse that didn't have Willig's potential. While that's hard to believe right this moment, I made the choice (and I took a long time making it) to keep Willig, not sweet reliable Mercury.

Cone-jumping lesson #2

This morning we tackled the cones yet again. (This makes day #5, with the score Martha - 1, Willig - 3.)
Yesterday I didn't ride because I spent the last two days trying to hammer out a brief, and I wasn't looking forward to coming out and having cone fight #6. In fact, I was dreading it, and I was really, really glad I already had a lesson scheduled with Shannon so I could ride with her help.
I planned a bit of time for lunging, which Willig took full advantage of. He spent 40 minutes alternating between Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Let me give an example:
"Look at me, all handsome with impulsion and a nice working trot."
(30 seconds later)
"Eek! A cone! OMG! A leaf! EEEEEKKKKK!"
(30 seconds later)
"Would you like me to pick up the canter? Yes, ma'am."
(30 seconds later)
"Watch how much I can twist my back in the air while I'm bucking! It's like a horse somersault!"
Etc.
Etc.
We started the lesson a few minutes late because of that exuberance.
Shannon started us on the flat, where Willig strived mightily to spook at the cones while we worked on a 20 meter circle. This was the same old stuff I continue to work on - heels down, legs forward, sitting back, keeping my hands even (that pesky right hand!), prompt response to transition aids, keeping him bent to the inside.
Then Shannon set up cavelleti, which we walked over and then trotted over while going past ... the cones.
Then she set up just a single pole and we'd go over the 3-pole cavelleti, then make a different circle and canter over the single pole.
Then she spread the cavelleti into two, and we cantered through (past the cones), and then she turned them back into the 6" jump with the cone underneath.
All of this was fairly simple. He wanted to look at the cones, so I worked hard on moving him off my inside leg toward the cone, and making sure that I came in straight and kept him moving (not wiggling).
Then Shannon put her jacket on the fence. Oh, lord.
He tried to bolt, and she had told me what to do (STOP him, immediately), so I stuck him into the wall. Then we faced it and stood there, with his neck rigid like a giraffe. Then we took one step. And looked at it - him rigid and quivering. Took a step. He tried to weasel out to one side or the other - nope. Rigid and quivering. Took another step. Still rigid. Another step. Mr. Tense. Another step.
Oddly, as we got to it, he bent down to look at it and then just stepped right over it.
So we did that a few more times at the walk, then at the trot.
This led to today's big breakthrough:
When I get scared or nervous - like Willig has been being a total moron and we're coming around the corner towards a jacket that he thinks is going to rise up and disembowel him - I clench my hands. I am asking him to stop (and more, to run out to the right with that iron right hand), rather than encouraging him to go forward no matter what.
So Shannon had me hold onto the breastplate if I was nervous, and to come in with my legs in front of me, heels down (and oh man, that felt so nice and solid), leaning back, and then ... KICKING him to the jump when he hesitated.
It worked! When I encouraged him, even with my feeble, wimpy, scared kicking, he went over it. When I clamped my hands, he stops. Duh, Martha.
Then Shannon got the pitchfork, and at that moment, J and her mom arrived. Willig was busy looking at them coming in, not paying attention to what Shannon had done, so as we got to the fence, he was all "Holy crap! There's something new down there!" but by then we were on top of it, and so he leapt straight up into the air (what felt like 3') over it. It popped me way up out of the saddle and I kind of landed half on his neck, but stayed on, and provided a good laugh for everyone in the arena. And Shannon said that was a great response - instead of running or stopping or bucking or any of his bad habits, he went OVER it.
Which is lesson #2. PRAISE him when he gets over it, even if it's ugly. I'm slow and stingy with the praise.
Then she added the lunge line draped on it, and then a plastic bin, and then we changed directions, and then she made it a little vertical (from our 6" to 18"), and he handled all of that with his "ho-hum" attitude.
Lesson #3 is that the height is not a problem for Willig. It's the confidence and the scaredy-cat, so I went to Value Village and the Dollar Store and now every single time I ride for the rest of the winter, I am going to put something out and move it around and make him go past it and over it, and work on all this stuff on the flat (or over 18") until the lightbulb stays on that his job is to go over what I point him at.
I am so pleased that he made progress today. Lots of other horses were being silly later, and I was really, really feeling disheartened over how the last week went and what my goals were for him. Him catching on was something I really needed, as well as the tips on how to improve my riding. These are simple, easy fixes that I can see immediate results from, and I only hope that my tiny brain can retain them so we can continue to progress.

In a dressage saddle, cones are no big deal

After our adventure last weekend with the cone-"jumping", I worked Willig one day on my own with cone-cavelleti, and then at my dressage lesson, told Mike about the cone excitement.
Mike wanted to see if he could Willig to continue to act up to help build my tool-kit on what to do in those situations, so we went past the cones on their perch on the wall, then past a cone on the ground, then past a cone on its side on the ground, then past two cones, the cones moved, the cones moved further out, we stopped at the cones, we trotted past the cones, we cantered past the cones, Mike moved away from the cones, and then Mike set up a jump and we jumped the cones - the exact same jump that Shannon made in my Saturday lesson.
"Ho-hum," said Willig.
Once, his ears sort of looked intently at a cone. Once.
Mike was disappointed, and I was a tiny bit, although also relieved that the cone horror had ended.
Or so I thought ...
We worked a bit more on bending to the inside, some counter canter (maintaining the bend! not switching to the other bend!), and I think that was pretty much it. Both Shannon and J came in towards the end of the lesson and marveled at well-behaved Willig (and backed me up that Saturday really was wild).

Then, J's ride was on Thursday, and he started it up all over again. She said that he did a 180 abruptly and without warning. Then he got scared of the far end after a horse walked by. Then she set up the cones and he did the same - came around the corner, saw it, and tried to bolt and buck. (Although she is modest, I doubt he gets as much away with it as he does with me.) She said it took most of the ride to get him to go over it "like a gentleman" which is the nicest way I've ever heard anyone describing a horse who is being a shit.

Fortunately for me, I have some extra time from work this month, so I am packing in the lessons. We'll see what next week holds in the dressage arena.

My new favorite book

"Athletic Development of the Dressage Horse: Manege Patterns" by Charles de Kunffy
The first five chapters are definite must reads for anyone who rides. I just got to Chapter 6, which also has lots of useful tips, but is starting to be the patterns.
I was reading it at the gym just after my lesson today, and I was like "That's it! That's us! That's brilliant!" over and over.
For example:
"The pleasure in riding should be found in seeking, not finding, perfection. For all wise equestrians have known that our ideals are not fully attainable, only approachable. Horsemanship is an art not suitable to those who wish to 'arrive.' It is, rather, an art in which the process of creating is fulfilling."
"The diagnostic process emanates primarily from the horse. He 'tells on his rider' and reveals all about his current condition. This is why during competition the judge uses only the horse's activities as guidelines for evaluating his progress and 'pretends to ignore' the rider's destructive activities." (Destructive is a term-of-art de Kunffy uses as one of two ways the rider influences the horse. The other is harmonizing.)

Me and Dad at Forest Park Equestrian Center

I like how Willig is looking at us walk away.

Bad Horse = Good Lessons (and a big slice of humble pie)

Ok, so I had this doozy of a cold. I probably should have cancelled my lesson, but I'm tired of wimping out about jumping, so I asked if we could just do an easy lesson. We started out working on Willig's impulsion and bend - by doing some spiraling in circles in both directions and keeping him bent to the inside (look at those eyelashes!).
That was all pretty decent, and so Shannon got out a tiny little cross rail jump with a couple of the guiding ground poles one stride out. By "tiny", I mean it was maybe 6" in the center.
She set it up in the center of the arena, so we had the "condensed" short area to jump in, which meant I had to work on exquisite control. The first couple times over were a little awkward and Shannon said that just like on the flat, I need to make him jump the first jump like I want him jumping at the end. It's up to me, and I'm just (STILL! ARRGH!) along for the ride.
Then she put ...
one ...
tiny ...
orange ...
cone ...
under the cross rail.

And the mayhem started.

As we came around the corner, Willig spotted the cone - I felt him squirm a bit - but before I could react at all (Problem #2 - my slow reaction time) - he bolted to the right, I went over his left shoulder - and blammo! Nailed the ground with my butt.
I mean, seriously. A tiny orange cone. It's like the LEAST scary thing an eventer will ever have to jump over. It was even on it's side, NOT making the "jump" one inch taller to the threatening 7".
Shannon got him and led him over the fence over and over and over again, until he was voluntarily stepping over it (and let me point out - it was not an effort for Shannon to step over the fence, but it sure was for Willig), and then I got back on.
Now, if I'm remembering the order correctly, we walked over (he hesitated) until he quit hesitating, then trotted over it.
Then she flipped the cone to the other side, and we went towards it from the other side and he - DID IT AGAIN.
Seriously. Only this time I didn't fall off. And I was pissed.
Oh yeah - and he added in a good buck.
And when I smacked him with the whip - he bucked back. (Replace that "b" with an "f" and you've got a good idea what he was telling me and what I was thinking back.)
So Shannon had me ride him in a tight canter circle (like I mentioned, I was sick, and weak, with a booming cough, and I was having a really hard time with the effort) and then expanded it out when he started to behave.
Then we walked it from that side - he acted up AGAIN - and Shannon did something we've never done in a lesson before - she took my whip - took the reins under his chin - I held onto the breastplate - and then she whipped him. From both sides.
And then led us over the 6" fence at a walk. [NOTE: Two lessons later, Shannon pointed out that she wasn't whipping him for the sake of whipping him, but making him move his legs when she asked, just like a leg aid would do. I completely missed that at the time, because my brain was pretty much seizing up.]
Multiple times.
By this point, I wanted to cry.
So then we did it again from the walk, and he'd try to trot it, and she made us do it until I was the boss (the big take-away lesson) and then we did it at the trot, and then we went back and did it from the other side, and he wanted to be afraid, but went over it anyway.
And so:
I am too passive. I don't react quickly enough, and I'm not the "boss". Even though I'm micro-managing everything, when it comes to the fence, I'm just like a dummy sitting up there. And I mean like one of those car crash dummies that just sits there, strapped in, and passively waits for whatever comes.
He was also being a shit. And it took a LOT of effort to get that out of him. I have no idea why because he's certainly jumped things scarier than a cone before - he's seen cones easily a thousand times - and the day before J was riding him and he was just fine. (i.e. it wasn't that he hadn't been jumped in a month or not ridden for a week)
He takes advantage of speed. When we're trotting - or heaven forbid cantering - he does use it to his advantage to dart out to the side. That's his thing. His other thing is bucking when he's smacked with the whip.
I need to ride into the fence defensively (legs in front of me, leaning back - preferable to hit him in the mouth and bang on his back than to go over his shoulder), but controlling him (I say what speed we trot/walk/canter the fence), and ready to WHIP him if he hesitates. And if he runs out, he halts immediately and we go right back to the fence until he goes over it.
This isn't about height. It's not like this thing was 4' and he wasn't sure he could make it. My DOG could have stepped over it without hardly lifting his leg higher than normal.
So ... it totally sucked having such a bad lesson, but I'm really glad it was during a lesson and not on my own so I got a lot of good information about how to deal with it, and so Shannon could get a better rounded picture of what it's like for me working with him the days we're not having lessons (not that he is like this 99% of the time - this is like a 1% thing that unfortunately tends to be 90% AT horse shows).
Fortunately, I have a lesson with Mike tomorrow and another lesson with Shannon next Saturday, so we'll get to build on this in close proximity.
Which is good because I didn't ride Sunday, and today I turned a little jump with two cones into three trot poles with the two cones in the middle, and the ding dong couldn't handle it again. I tried the same thing we did in the lesson (controlled, but firmly and defensively going over it) until it wasn't a big deal, and then we did it at the trot until it wasn't a big deal and then we quit, but what the hell? It's orange cones!!

Delayed posting of dressage lesson

Last week I had a dressage lesson, and then immediately following it, came down with a doozy of a cold. I was sick enough that I didn't even feel like sitting at the computer to type out my lesson, which is a good lesson in itself, because almost a week later, I can hardly remember all of the details.
My primary complaint was back to the transition from the canter to trot. I don't get Willig "lifted" enough, so it is this jarring down transition, where I post like a pogo stick bouncing up and down instead of sitting the trot. (I know the pogo stick feeling well, since it's how I "sat" the trot most of my life until I started working with Mike last year.)
Mike gave us a very difficult exercise to do - canter on a 10-meter circle. It was almost impossible to do at the start of the lesson - we'd MAYBE pick up a few strides and then collapse - but the point of it was to show me how much I squirm around up there. I am doing pretty much everything. I'm not giving Willig the aid and then letting him do it, but ... micro-managing.
As a spoiler - at the end of the lesson he had us do it again and it was, compared to the start of the lesson, a cake walk. I don't know why, but I'm prepared at this point to live with the magic.
I ask him for something, and then I fiddle, and then I squirm around, and then I toss my shoulders willy-nilly, and the poor guy has no idea what job he's supposed to be doing.
So that was huge take-home lesson 1. Just like Mike suggested that perhaps - just maybe - I am continuing to ask for the trot with each step. And I was like "you're crazy!" and then he asked me to go into a two point, and Willig ... slowed ... down ... to ... a ... walk without my constant banging around.
I have switched my constant anaconda squeeze (old aid) to think that I was no longer banging around, but instead I'm just like a toddler with a drum set - now instead of squueezzzing, I'm tap-tap-tappity-tap-tap-tapping (new aid).
It's an improvement, but still not quite where we need to be.
Lesson 2 - we worked on the "scary" end of the arena again. Mike has a gentle approach - we walk. stop. look. walk. stop. look. Then walk all the way. Then trot. walk. trot. walk. Then trot all the way. Then canter. trot if needed. canter. Canter all the way. Then Mike moves away. And every time we get past is one more tiny feather swiping a meteor every thousand years (one of my favorite Built to Spill songs) and one day it will be the size of a pea.
And yes, it works. But it drives me CRAZY. I am impatient.
Lesson 3. Then we did a bit of our fancy-pants work, which we have not been doing so much of since ding dong got scared of the far end again. (Even though our arena is huge, when we spend half of it preparing for and exiting the scary end, we are really only working on stuff for half (which is still big, but still, it's half).)
The first thing Mike pointed out is to set Willig up for success. If I'm going to ask him to do some leg yield, come off the corner, turn down the quarter line, and move him TO the wall for the first time. Horses gravitate toward the wall, and why ask him to go all the way across as the very first move. Let him warm up a bit.
Finally, in the next post I'll describe our jump lesson, but today Mike was riding gorgeous George, and Willig decided to act up the same as the jump lesson, and when I stomped in to get his lunge line and side reins, Mike asked if I needed draw reins. And then a light bulb went off for me - why in the world do I spend all this time fighting with him when I have a tool we used for like 6 months? So I put them on him today and whether it was the lesson Saturday, or the lunging until he got sweaty, or the draw reings, or a combination - he wasn't nearly as much of a pistol as he was Saturday.

A "qualified" good lesson

As I've said in some of the recent posts, Willig has reverted to being scared of the exit door in the inside arena, and most of my rides for the last week have been (ugh) patiently going past that door. Although I managed to take him on one trail ride last weekend (a spook-fest, in honor of Halloween apparently), the weather hasn't cooperated for either me or J to ride him outside. So when my lesson coincided with only overcast skies (no rain or drizzle) and no downpours in the last 24 hours, I just knew Shannon would suggest we ride outside.
Both Shannon and I could see the "wild look" in Willig's eye, so she had us start on him focusing - with a nice inside bend (and nice is relative, since he was trying mightily to crane his neck for monsters on the outside of the fence) with impulsion. The main theme for this lesson is that I get scared and ride him slower and slower and slower, which makes it easier and easier and easier for him to leap out.
So we did walk/trot/canter both directions, and then Shannon told us to make a big circle and gallop. And she had to keep yelling "Gallop!" because while my leg was receiving the message from my brain, my hands were like "You're insane!" and fought it.
And just as when Shannon took us to NWEC to school and Willig did his rodeo loop, and she made us take off galloping (and redo the fence after each huge loop until he quit being loopy), it got the crazy out of his eye at home too.
He was perfectly nice until the &*#&(&# poodle came out with his human, and like a wild man (our Chinook is a wild lady too, so I get it, it's just that it's ALWAYS a training opportunity when I'm out there and never just riding) raced around in his yard. Willig got the wild look back in his eye, and when he had a particularly difficult time making the transition from canter to trot, Shannon had us halt, canter, and then do another gallop loop. This one was even harder for me to do than the first one, since I was watching him watching the poodle.
Given that, we had some quite nice jumping.
We worked on a bounce, then a double bounce, which Mr. Inconsistent was A-Ok with.
We worked on a vertical over flowers (ho-hum), a blue barrel under a vertical (he was looking, but jumped it each time, although Shannon had us repeat it until it was flawless - the looking was at the barrel (he refused some this summer) and pointed in the direction of the poodle).
Then we made a little course - the three cross rail bounces, right hand turn around to the flower vertical, left hand turn (which was much improved from two lessons ago) to the blue barrels, then big left arc to the wall.
His first time, we both saw it coming from a mile off, and he ran out to the right, and then it took me forever to stop him. I knew it was coming, Shannon knew it was coming, and Willig had every opportunity to keep it coming.
She had us ride back in front of it, halt, and he got one smack with the whip, and then I had to do it again. He did it kind of big, but did it.
Then we did the course a second time, and again, he took it kind of big, but did it. I know he can do it, because when I was working him a lot in the summer, I had him going quite nice over it.
So Shannon's main take away is that I am still not riding assertively enough. She can see him looking, see him thinking about refusing, but I just sit there and do nothing, but keep waiting for him to jump it - even when I feel the refusal coming also.
And he is nervous (and always will be nervous) about things he hasn't seen before (or seen in a while) and I need him to 1) trust me that he can do it, and 2) prefer to do it than face my wrath. Which is almost nonexistent.
We were at a dinner party the night before, and someone who used to ride hunter jumpers was asking me excitedly about having a horse. (I feel the pain of ex-horse riders who live in Seattle.) And as I was talking about him I realized that all this hesitation is coming from me. It's me who's holding us back, and it's because I'm scared. And the more I work without stirrups, the better I feel my position getting, and the more I jump him over big stuff, the more comfortable I feel heading towards it with my feet in front of me. It's just that I don't act fast enough to correct his refusals, and I think once I fix that, he'll stop refusing, and then we'll just improve and improve. So I have to act like he's not going to refuse (assertively, not passively) and be quick to respond, and then we'll be back on our upward spiral.
Overall, as Shannon pointed out, it was a great lesson. He did the bounces incredibly well, he had the wild look in his eye and hadn't been out, last year I couldn't even ride him at the poodle side, and the one run out provided us with an excellent teaching example.
Although I wish he was perfect and easy, this is pretty damn helpful for me becoming a better rider, and I think it also helps him learn to trust me.

Willig was finally naughty in front of Mike

He was lame for J on Monday (his left front frog was hot, but it was an intermittent lameness that was not really obvious, according to her). So Tuesday I had a lesson and got there early so that I could make sure the lameness popped up before my lesson started. We were very, very slowly warming up (I misjudged my timing and had half an hour of riding time before the lesson started) and we were walking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth ad nauseum past the scary door when Willig saw something and bolted. Now, I knew he was looking, but there wasn't long enough of a moment between when he saw the monster and when he started moving for me to feel it and do anything about it.
So we went shooting from one end of the arena towards Mike and his student in the middle of her lesson, I lost my stirrup, was trying to turn him in a circle to stop the bolting, and then he put his head down to start bucking and I was thinking "god dman it - I am NOT going off in front of Mike!" and yanked his head up and it surprised him enough that he kind of sputtered out.
So we finally got a lesson with Mike where we worked on Willig's tiny brain issues. Incredibly, he decided to spend the entire rest of the lesson (and yesterday and today) continuing to be very wary of the monsters that live down there. Towards the end of the lesson - like 2 minutes before we finished - this time with J on her horse and the owner's adorable daughter on her adorable pony - he tried to run again, and Mike agreed that he didn't see it coming at all either.
So we:
Worked on his head to the inside. By putting my inside hand (the direction I want him bent) on my thigh.
Then added using a bit of leg yield to make the turns on the corners (which means beginning to ask a few steps before we get there).
Then inched our way down towards the scary end, moving a bit closer each lap, using the head to the inside and the leg yield to make it past the short scary end.
Then we did a bit of the leg yielding along the walls and a bit of counter canter to show Mike what we worked on since the last lesson (he said much better, but still needs some polishing).
Then he did his second bolty spook (much smaller), and Mike reminded me (for the third time, I think, during the lesson) to:
The second he starts - yank him to the inside, thinking a 5 meter circle before we get going and a 15 meter circle for canter.
Don't yank and clamp, but yank and release. Jerk up and down. Don't let him pull against me, balance on his forehand, and just start barreling.
And try to relax. Talk to him, yell at him, whatever is appropriate, but break his focus on fleeing.
So it was a "good" lesson in the sense that I got more tools for my toolbox on naughty Willig days, and a frustrating lesson in the sense that I like working on the new, fancy, fun stuff with Mike, and riding a bolting horse is not new, fancy, or fun.

Indoor jump lesson - for weeknights in the winter

I asked Shannon for help with an exercise that I could use for winter weeknights, when it's dark and raining outside, but I don't have time to set up and take down a whole bunch of jumps inside. In addition to the 2/3/4 "corners" of a circle that we've done before, and the line of fences that I use to make a serpentine, she suggested two at angles to make a figure 8.
I also had a lot of flat questions for her. The first thing I noticed, as I do in every lesson, is that she makes me ride so much harder than I ride when I'm on my own. And this is a bit hard to describe, but it's - every second of every step we're focused on doing something and asking for more during the lesson - but alone, we kind of putter around. When I'm alone, it doesn't feel like puttering, it feels like working, but then when I have a lesson, I leave thinking that I'm not working at all when I'm alone (I'm usually out of breath within the first 10 minutes in my lesson).
Next I asked about the canter to trot transition that has been so bumpy, and she suggested (rightly) that I'm probably asking too much for trot and not enough pushing into trot. That cleared it right up.
She also set up a few of the "obstacles" (jump door open, cat on the wall, horse walking by) to make Willig work hard enough that he didn't have a chance to be spooky. (Ha! He's working just as hard as I am in the lesson!)
Then we worked a bit on my lame hand. That right hand is like a death clamp. And so I'd hold the breastplate with my fingers to keep my hands still (which was agony!) and then we put my crop behind my elbows (more agony!). And it was agony because I'm twitchy. I am constantly moving my fingers up and down the reins and letting go and sucking up again and moving them forward and moving them back, and asking him to bend with my hands instead of my legs. And it was absolutely awkward and terrible to ride with my hands being still. It felt like I was in a straightjacket. So I have GOT to work on that. My goodness.
Then we worked on my leg aids (prior post - I put my leg way back to ask, not just ask at the girth) and Shannon demonstrated that a proper canter aid is with your leg back - FROM THE HIP - like scissors - not swinging your heel up from the knee. Which made me wonder, once again, why Willig does anything for me at all. C'mon - a few carrots? Not worth it!
Shannon also pointed out that I "suck up" the reins (the "spider walking") and I should just grab and pull them. That's the way (grab and pull) I used to do it, then I retrained myself to suck up. So it'll be a relief to go back to grab and pull.
She also pointed out that some day, I'll have two different toe positions - one for dressage and one for jumping (which can be a bit pointed out, and is the way my toe likes to ride). But that's a detail that I don't have to worry about just yet.
So after all that, which was super useful but super hard to think about breaking those habits now, we moved to the figure 8.
This went pretty smoothly - we pretty consistently (like 90%) missed the right lead, but pretty consistently (also 90%?) got the left lead. Weird. Oh wait - it's my heavy right hand.
When he's trying to look at other things, Shannon had me make circles and make those transitions sharp and him respond when I ask him to respond.
Then she made the one fence into an oxer and the other into about a 2'8" vertical. Willig jumped both just great, but the vertical - which is close to the maximum height I've ever jumped him - he'd actually get round over, and I came home and told Tom, all dreamy, that he just floats. I've never ridden a horse like him before. When he is actually jumping, and not half-ass going over a fence, it feels like magic. The same when I get everything in dressage just right - it is just an incredible feeling! No wonder people spend the extra bucks on warmbloods. It is divine!
So then we wrapped up with me whining again about how I don't want to ride hopeful again, it's embarrassing, but I just don't see him mentally ready this year. Shannon pointed out that a) I should pick my shows carefully - the jump design varies tremendously; b) I will need to school him a bit, since it's the traveling and the scary outdoors that is hard for him and can only be overcome by time; c) I need to start at hopeful until he's being consistent - no stopping at a pile of poles on the ground, and where I'm comfortable with the fences and not intimidated by them (we were starting to get there at the end of this year); and then d) she thinks if we work hard, he can probably do recognized beginner novice by the end of the season, since there's quite a few derbies at the beginning, and then that weird June gap, and then quite a few recognized shows at the end. Yay! A new goal!
And he was so good. He has come so far in the last year. I'm getting quite fond of him. It's true - having to work way outside my comfort zone, while difficult, has made me really appreciate the progress we've made. I dare say I love him a little bit, and last year I was ready to sell him!

Tidbits

Last weekend, I was out of town for our "anniversary", and the Pony Club kids had Halloween at our barn. Apparently, a few of the horses with a front seat view of the costumes got a little spooked, and so the spookiness rippled through the paddocks. Willig was spooking spectacularly, putting on a little show apparently, and eventually, after what I heard were several very acrobatic bucks and rears ... fell down. At least five different people told me about it, and every one of them laughed at the poor goof. I didn't know when I saw him the next day, and fortunately, he was just fine.
So fine, in fact, that we had a breakthrough. Willig has been scared of deer, and whenever he's in a turnout (with me, again, ever since he lost his grass privileges), he runs and tears up and acts like the world is ending if there's a deer anywhere in his line of vision. I was waiting for the farrier Tuesday, and put him in a grass turnout without looking first for deer, and sure enough, there was one enjoying brunch. So I thought I'd scare it off while Willig was distracted on the other side of the turnout, and went marching towards it. Another deer, one growing in some antlers (or whatever they're called for deer), popped out from behind a tree, and then faced off with me. It stomped towards me! I was still planning on scaring them both off, but then I heard Willig see it behind me - because he started his racing back and forth. I kept going towards the deer, the deer kept coming towards me, and then suddenly, I heard Willig coming towards me. What I thought was "oh, great, he's about to kill me kicking as he runs past, scared out of his mind" and he did run past me, but not kicking. He was obviously nervous, but he was headed ... at the deer! He zigged and zagged, not really wanting to go towards the deer, and the deer stood his ground, and it was all terribly exciting, and then the deer caved, and Willig, triumphantly, chased it over the fence. He was so triumphant, that he did a celebratory lap, and then came by me, stopped so I could pat him on the neck, and then ate grass.
Let me point this out more succinctly: Willig, the biggest 'fraidy cat I have ever known, just protected me from a vicious, attacking deer! And then acted cool.
Obviously, he knew I was going to hear about how he fell down being a nut, and had to redeem himself in some way.

In riding news, I have been working on our "30 laps" of the leg yield along the wall, and as I go along our long mirror, I have noticed that I tend to move my leg back - WAY back - each time I ask for an aid - ANY aid. So when I'm working in slow motion on leg yield, it actually really helps me to focus on the details, which I had never even noticed before: keeping my foot near the girth, asking only when his hind leg is already moving, keeping my outside rein steady and constant, and not twisting my shoulders/hips. When I canter, and I now think about twisting my shoulders to the outside, it actually makes my inside hip (the lead I want him to pick up) feel like it lifts.
This is all so cool. And he's so patient about it!

Oh yeah, and yesterday he got his fall flu/rhino. Shannon thinks his nose "sunburn" might be a fungus, so the last two days I've put his iodine shampoo on it, and I got him some fungus ointment today to try this week. I think he's had the "sunburn" patch since August or maybe even July.

A "simple" (two areas of focus) lesson

It's simple in the sense that we really only did two things, but they were two very complex things that were hard for me (and obviously Willig has already been trained to do them - the sneaky rat!).
First, Mike gave us a "baby" exercise for shoulder-in and leg yield. We head towards the wall, hit it at about a 30 degree angle, and then move at the angle down the wall. This requires careful coordination of the aids - too much leg and Willig's head obediently (and oddly) smacks into the wall, too much "outside" leg and his angle gets too severe and he can't move "forward", too much "inside" leg and he gets too straight, too much right rain and he gets to bent and can't move, too much left rain (inside) and he straightens out. We are practicing this both directions 30x each way! Woo-wee. It gets boring very, very quickly, which ... makes Willig more than ecstatic to come off the wall and work off the wall or leg yield to the center line. And at about the quarter mark, when his haunches start trailing, I just think of the feeling of being angled at the wall, and whoosh - we're right back on track.
The interesting bit about this was that going with his left shoulder leaning (I'm heavy on the right hand), it was easy and fun.
With his right shoulder leading, it felt all weird and cramped up. Mike said Willig is moving exactly the same way on each side - it's my weird, distorted senses (my words! not Mike's!) that make it feel that way. So these exercises, in addition to helping us do leg yield without trailing haunches, also help me recognize, and ideally, correct, that weird feel I've got.
We did it at the walk, then at the sitting trot, which is harder and also much cooler.
Then Mike explained the difference between shoulder-in, haunches-in, renver, and traver - which are actually four different moves, not just fancy-pants frenchy names for shoulder-in, which made sense while he was explaining (and demonstrating) but which were slippery for my tiny brain. I'm going to have to look at them and draw them and mimic them by marching around on the ground pretending to be a horse. They are about which way the neck is bent and whether haunches or shoulder are on or off the "line".
Then we worked on counter-canter, at my request, since it is the "last" 1st level move that I don't know how to do. This gave us another interesting insight. Well, a few. First - Willig already does it like a champ. Especially when I get out of his way.
So I can scoot him in and out of the centerline on his right lead super easy. When I do it properly (not by scooting my outside leg further back, but by bending his hindquarters out - which is an aid I will need later for flying changes, and lord knows I don't need any more sloppy bad habits to have to fix in the future), it's a little harder but he still does it like a champ.
But when we switched to left lead? Oh my lord. My inability to bend him to the left because my right hand is like a greedy, iron clamp, is suddenly demonstrated for all the world to see. First, I twist to the inside (point my right shoulder back towards his right hip) asking him to pick up the canter, which throws his haunches out, which means he has to pick up the left lead canter. When I twist myself all in a pretzel facing the "wrong" way, he lifts right into the right lead.
When we come around the corner and I push him over to the centerline? As soon as we straighten, ker-flammo! - he falls into the trot. Mike says I'm throwing him away, but I suspect it is also something to do with that pesky right hand that has a mind of its own. Willig was like an x-ray machine today - showing right to my bones where I was making the errors.
Mike put us back on the angly line, and then back into counter canter, but we were at the end of the lesson, so it gave me the tools I need to work on it until my next lesson. It was fascinating how different my right side and left side are.
And just because I haven't mentioned it doesn't mean Mike hasn't - my pesky heels still spring up every single time a single brain cell stops focusing on them, and I am having to think much harder and work with more delicately-tuned aids now, which means I can't get away with as much (that I never knew I was getting away with before).
Mike also gave me a tool for Willig's latest hijinx. Instead of blowing his nose vigorously at the start of the ride (and yanking my shoulders out of their sockets - which Mike fixed a while back with "pretend like your arms are side reins - they would stretch but not drop the contact with Willig when he blows his nose"), once I started to implement that, he started a nose blowing/head toss thing. While I was warming up, he actually spit and then managed to land it on his own forehead. So Mike said he gets a firm "leg/hand" connection - the jiggly reins/jiggly legs, and when he gives with his head, big pats - and if he gets naughty about it - a smack. We're starting to "ride his haunches" in that canter work and our future work, and this is a disconnect and an effort to avoid taking up the bit at the start that is a naughty-can-be-punished (although probably also my heavy hands and weaker legs when we are just getting going).
Along those lines, in warm up, in addition to thinking about my &*#&*(&# heels, which I am beginning to loathe, we are working on "too bent - relax - too bent - relax" so that he starts getting a bit more round and connected and holding it for longer. Willig is such a trooper. He's actually quite a nice, willing worker, aside from how he's scared of the far end of the arena once again.
I also think I'm going to join a nearby gym and work out on my way to/from the barn (depending on how quickly I can get out of work) so that by next spring I've got good aerobic capacity, better muscle tone, and have lost some pesky weight for those white britches.

1 Success; 1 Failure

We did some work jumping a little cross rail and vertical on a bendy line (they were actually in a line, so I had to turn left or right like I was on a tight circle), and maybe because the walls created, well, walls, but Willig was calm as could be. We did about 20 jumps without stirrups, and probably 15 of those were solid. Go rock stars!
But then I was giving him his next level of trace clip, and he loves it - like he's at the spa - even when the hay went around he was cool with being clipped. But then the grain came out, and he was like "ok, this is enough of this grooming stuff, I'm ready for dinner!" and while the clipping itself is easy, the matching both sides of him is surprisingly hard, so I think he's a bit mis-matched.

Nuances

The middle two weeks of this month, Willig was a bit of a pill. Even J commented on it, and she's pretty unflappable. I think it might have been our weird weather - he had been shedding a bit before that and then it got cold and crisp without a lot of mood-dampening rain.
This week he seems to be back to normal.
On the drive out, I was thinking about work and other boring stuff, and I got to wondering if maybe he's such a challenge for me because he's too much like me? We're both on the high-strung neurotic type A (if a horse can be Type A, it's Willig) side, and maybe, just like in relationships, we do best with horses who are kind of our complement, although not too far. I enjoy riding fiesty horses more than I like lazy horses, but I like a trooper who doesn't need a lot of delicate handling, because **I** need a lot of delicate handling. Just like I do best with a boss or a relationship where the other person is firm but easy going.
We've also finally hit another roadmark that I've read about but never understood: riding isn't enough to keep you fit enough to ride. I always assumed it was because I was kind of a twitchy, reasonably-fit person (and I have definitely had my fitness slip in the last few years), but I think I just wasn't really riding at a level that needed fitness. Working our three "speeds" at the canter completely wipes me out - I pour sweat, turn bright red, get out of breath, and my thigh muscles start screaming. I am finally going to have to buckle down and start finding time to do my regular workout (running, yoga/pilates, and some weights at home) or else my fitness is going to hold us up. That's pretty cool, although whew - yet more time.
Willig also, by the way, gets sweaty. It's not just me.

Shoulder-in, small canter, and general mushiness

We had another wowzer of a lesson with Mike today. I started by listing the issues I thought I had with the 1st level movements: I don't know how to counter canter (ignoring the entire movement on the wrong lead at Training 4 a few weeks ago), I don't "know" how to do the trot-halt transition, when we leg yield, Willig's back legs trail, and I'm having trouble getting the "floaty" canter to trot transition.
We worked primarily on two things, the first of which took me forever to catch on to, but when I did - once again, angels were singing and I was just grinning ear to ear.
Ok, so for hind legs trailing at leg yield. To teach me how to avoid the hind legs trailing, Mike taught me shoulder-in. This required MUCH demonstration on his part (trotting around on the ground) and then physically moving my body, which stubbornly refused to catch on for the first 30 minutes. Mike has the patience of a saint.
As we got to the point where I could move and try it (vs. just dumbly stare at him from a standstill), I had to ride with my tongue sticking out because I was concentrating so hard.
And all I can really say is ... well, you had to be there. Sort of. I don't know if it's because we're moving into uncharted territory for me, but it is so much more a feeling that I don't know how to describe it well.
A leg yield is walking, then holding the outside rein constant, squeeze and release on the inside rein, and then asking for him to move his hind leg under when it lifts up. (I need to go back and work on making sure I've got the feel right for when that leg is lifting.) Sounds easy, right? While Willig is a champ at it, everything has to be just so or it doesn't work right.
A shoulder-in is very similar, but produces a very different response. It is outside rein constant - kind of lightly pressure on his neck, the inside leg is like a pivot pole that is nice and solid, and then the inside rein bends his neck to the inside with the squeeze and release. And when you get this one just so - which is purely a feeling - I have no words to describe how it is different - just Mike's vigorous demonstrations - Willig goes on two tracks - when the wall is to the right, his right front and left hind leg track in the same track, while his left front and right hind have their own individual tracks. In the mirror, I can see the one line for those two legs, and the other two legs out to either side which is just crazy!
So, like I said, it took most of half an hour for me to catch onto that, which is just crazy and new and I just need to time to work on it and start to feel it and make it a habit.
So then we worked on the "float" transition from canter to trot. Mike had us get on a small circle around him (I suspect, although don't know, that it was smaller than 10 m), and then I'd ask Willig to canter, and then do a LOT of asking with my inside leg while I "lifted" with both hands. This was crazy hard, but then his back and shoulders would lift up like he was a hot air balloon blowing up, and then (most of the time) I'd get so excited I'd drop everything and we'd plummet into trot, but a few times (bless Mike's sweet patience), I'd hold it together long enough for him to talk us into the trot, and we'd float, like a leaf falling onto a still lake, into the trot. HOLY COOLNESS.
It was the craziest coolest thing.
And then he had us do it to the right (my dominant side), where I had another breakthrough. Willig had a harder time picking up the canter this direction, which was weird since it's his "easy" bend side since I overbend him by riding all heavy on that side. Well, on the little circle, another flaw of mine popped into view - to encourage the canter, I twist to the inside. Sweet sensitive Willig feels that twist, and has to throw his butt out to the outside to compensate for it, which makes him off-balance and have to pick up the wrong lead. Which he can't do when we're on a tiny circle. When I twist the "wrong" way, so I'm looking over my outside shoulder, he moves his butt almost into the center of the circle.
It did a great job illuminating Willig's patience with me. He's a nicer horse than I've ever owned before, and I'm sure that the last couple years with me, being ridden by me has been like somebody playing the radio at full blast between two stations. I'm all over the place! He can stop on a dime when I just stop the motion with my hips, and just a year ago I was flapping around like a wet noodle!
Which brings me to being grateful. I am so fortunate to board at a place that has such amazing facilities and such spectacular care. I am so fortunate to be able to ride with someone like Mike, who has brought me in a year farther than I went in the first 20 years. I am so fortunate to have Shannon for jumping, to help me build confidence without pushing me so hard we both get scared. I am so fortunate to have Jess, #1 in the nation!, able to ride Willig once a week to build an upward spiral of confidence for both of us over fences. I don't understand how a few flakes of hay and a roof could possibly make things even between us and our horse friends, but I'm grateful every time I get out there and get to mash my face into Willig's neck. He has been a huge challenge for me, but now I'm grateful for it. He's pushed me harder than I would have pushed myself, and he's making me a far superior rider than I ever would have been. This stuff is really, really cool, and right now, this is the most fun I've had riding in my life, and I just want to do more of it every day.

Jumping sans stirrups

Per Shannon's sage advice at my last lesson, I tackled a tiny cross rail without stirrups today. A mere two of my ten times over it were not me jumping ahead. So, this will be the new jumping de rigeur. (Although I like being able to count the good ones, because now I can track it as it improves and feel like I'm actually making progress objectively.)
We hit the weather just right - although the outside arena was soggy, the sun was shining, a weird number of birds (like Hitchcock lots) were out, and Willig was a goof with Jessica earlier in the week, so some lunge manuevering around the bigger puddles and then me slamming around was enough for him to think about. But then, because another part of Shannon's advice was to force myself to do what I need to (see above, jumping without stirrups) after my stirrup-less work, I worked him on a bendy circle over some poles on the ground, and poor ding dong had such a difficult time with that. He wanted to spook at the brick wall, then the birds, then a puddle, then the great outdoors, then we were back at the brick wall and it was still scary ad nauseum both directions.

He also got his first clip of the year yesterday, and a fellow boarder commented that he's getting some nice muscles and looking bigger. THAT'S why his butt has been looking so big! Unfortunately, mine has too, but not for the same good reasons.