Will it be Willig ... or Anti-Willig?

Willig means "willing" (roughly) in German. When I bought him, his name was Willy, and I had a German trainer, and Willy makes me think of those silly willies, so I kept the pronunciation mostly the same (i.e. not in Deutsch) and went with something that meant more to me.
So the "anti" in the title is when Willig is in one of his moods. Which he was when we went to school at NWEC yesterday. Now, when Willig is in one of his moods and I have a trainer, we learn tons and tons of stuff. But it's not fun.
Here are the high points:
Ride 2-point in between fences. About 10 strides out, sit up a bit. About 2 strides out, sit the rest of the way up.
The down bank is seat-glued-to-saddle. Question: How do you do that without ripping Willig's face? Answer: (did not come to me on my own, despite being told it last schooling) Let the reins out. Open your fingers. But not if he's in a bucky mood, then, just rip him in the face.
Ditches are still Willig's foes. Willig-eaters, he thinks. As an aside, today, in a halter with a long lead line, we spent - I don't know - 15 minutes? - jumping the one at home. That mostly consisted of me jumping back and forth and back and forth on my sprained ankle while he watched. But eventually, he got it. And by "got it", I mean he would exaggeratedly rock back, then lurch forward like a rocket with the propulsion system set too high - stumble furiously on the far side - and then vigorously eat grass like nothing happened.
Pull him the OPPOSITE way of the way he is trying to dart out. If he's trying to go right, pull left. Not pull right so he makes a circle to the right. (This is very, very heavily ingrained in me. I finally got it correct a couple of times, but only after Shannon had the opportunity to say it, oh, approximately 25 times.)
Growl, kick, click, whip, WHATEVER, just do something on the way to the fence when he is hesitating. I got one pitiful click and Shannon whooped with joy - at this enormous old growth log that I swear was 3' around. The time before he had refused it, managing to run out PAST a second old growth (even bigger), before I yanked left (we were going right) and then we clambered over it. Clambered. My friend's mom said he kind of had to tippy toe with his back feet on the log. (But to say something nice about Willig, he hopped right in and out of their trailer like he's a trailer king. Theirs is a 4-star and I really like it compared to mine, which now has peeling paint.)
When Willig is in a naughty/bucky/disobedient/lazy mood, he has to work harder to not jump the fences than to just go over them already. (He was the opposite of our Caber xc ride and our last schooling at NWEC and our last schooling at home. So he fooled me into thinking he was over himself and we were just going to jump from now on.) He might have to gallop. He might have to make a 10 meter canter circle. He might have to do some crazy leg yielding. But in all of this - I ride with my hands pushed into his neck just in front of the breastplate.
And here is the miraculous discovery, that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been being such a shit. I let go - about two strides out I completely let go of the reins - I put them up on his neck in anticipation of the fence (I don't jump ahead, I just go ahead and shove my hands up) and ... THAT'S HOW HE'S ALWAYS RUNNING OUT.
Duh.
Now - I have my reasons for doing this, but the common sense effect, and the whole "why does he keep running out?" question never connected these for me, until Shannon told me to clamp my hands, and I was like "well then how do I let go before the fence?" and to her credit, she didn't laugh out loud at me.
What else? Willig can jump big jumps. The bigger the jump, the easier he is to ride (in the air). It's easier to balance and not jump ahead if he's jumping something that he actually puts some effort into. This has been dawning on me, but got cemented over that old growth log. The part where we take off and are in the air and landing - piece of cake and like heaven. The part a few strides out and a few strides after still needs work. But my lord, the flying part - I don't want to do anything else with my life but keep improving so I can do that more.
Three people had told me he had been bucking in the stall that morning, but I was so excited about going to school that I ignored it. (Another huge thing disguised there. I have pretty much hated jumping for the last 2 years, and for the last 6 months, that hate has been turning back into love. Thanks to Shannon.) And then he started out terrified of the woods, running out over utility pole sized fences, charging the fences, and taking off afterwards. Then, horrors, some people walked by on the trail, and that's when he started the bucking, and did this rodeo routine in a circle for a while.
The good news? I'm not scared of the fences (except the ditch) anymore, or the heights, and I'm not scared of falling off because my position and my "toolkit" are so much better than they were last year.
The bad news? I still can't get him over fences when *I* want him to go over them without a lot of struggle and a lot of instructions yelled from Shannon. It must be exhausting for her to teach me. I am so slow to respond and then I immediately do it wrong the very next time, with the very same clues ahead of time.
So he was refusing, bucking (little bucks), etc. and then we did the ditch a few lengths behind our friend, and victory was ours! He just lept right over it! And then just as quickly, we were snatched from the jaws of victory into the stronghold of defeat because he stumbled, went down on his knees (nothing to do with the ditch), and then came up lame on his right front leg. Which he held out, shaking, until he saw the tractor, then he forgot he was lame to look at the tractor. So we tried the ditch again after a few laps of checking him out - no victory in sight. After a couple tries, Shannon sent us back to the baby ditch (the bank) to do it by ourselves (that alone was a small triumph for me), then back to the ditch behind our friend. Nope. He was wise to the evil tricky ways of the ditch. So then I got off, so Shannon could lead him over it. He hesitated, looking, lept huge, and lept so huge she had to let go of the reins, which he almost immediately stepped on, broke, and then started to trot back to the trailer - just slow enough to taunt us. Well, my friend's mom thought fast, pulled a granola bar out of her pocket, and the rascal turned around and came back for the granola bar. Then we made one long rein, which worked great for his super-launches, and Shannon led him over the ditch over and over (which begs the question why the one at home was such a huge deal with me today). And we quit on that.
It was very, very educational.
What I can't decide on are the three remaining recognized shows. While I think he isn't going to improve any riding at home, with timid me, I think it might be too much for this year. I think I'm going to ride the remaining derby, volunteer at the next two shows, and then hopefully ride the final show of the year. And then we'll work hard all winter to be ready for as much as we can afford next spring. Because I don't think we'll be bringing home many $300 ribbons. But the year after that ... we'll be rock stars.

Another great lesson on a great day

This photo is of us warming up back at the FPEC show in June.
I (heart) summer. I'm so much happier once there's a cool breeze and a warm sun and long days, especially when I'm at the barn most of the day instead of at work. Today was my day off, and I got to drop off my trailer at the shop, let Willig out in the grass for a bit (he was good; just ate), leisurely groomed him, and warmed him up. It was a busy morning in the arena, which was good practice for me, since I usually ride alone at night, and it also kept me motivated to stay after my lesson and watch the next two lessons which was really, really useful.
First, we reviewed my tests from the last show. Mike said he heard about the scores already, and that if I just imagined each one was 2 points higher, it would probably be more what I was expecting. He told me about someone who got an 80 something at the previous show, and was in the 50s there! That made me feel a lot better, and means I was right to look at the 1st place and see that the scores were all low, and that it wasn't that my efforts to "ride an 8" were totally wrong. (Although from what I described, he said I should try to finesse it and only ride ugly if it's the only way to get the movement - rather than let Willig misbehave.)
Then we worked on the couple of things that I had asked about - coming across the diagonal at a canter, then around the corner trotting, then lengthening the trot - that lengthen is always ugly. And about using the baby spurs (no problem).
Mike said our leg yields were great, and then did a lot of polishing.
When I ask him for a transition, he needs to give it without flinging his head up. If he does, I go back and do it again.
He still needs to be more responsive. The first one is a gimmie (after he's been slacking), then he gets a whip tickle, then he gets a whip welt.
This can be done with things like trot, then two steps walk, then trot again.
Then we worked on his canter, which has gone back to being a bit strung out.
Important point: a leg yield aid is NOT with your leg back. (Then when I watched the lessons I saw better how this works for the next steps with shoulder-in, renvers, and travers.)
So the lengthening secret? He's already lengthening plenty, and I'm asking him for more when I should be working on keeping him balanced and together. If I would get the lengthen, then spend the other 2/3 keeping him pulled together, the whole thing flows better.
We ended with the magical, elusive "poof". This is the trot, and then I keep the same 1-2-1-2, but I half-halt while asking with my legs and kind of suck him up, and he elevates his forehand (I think?) and then he gets light for a few steps, and then I let him go back to normal. We just do it for a few steps, but I'm pretty sure this is the floaty thing that happens when Mike rides him for a few minutes, and ... I could make it happen! I don't entirely understand how it works, or even that I've described the aids properly, but when I was riding, I was getting it!
Willig was super obedient and nice today, even twice, due to rider steering error, going under the sprinkler. Mike said a lot of the movements were 7s and 8s, and he was really pleased with how far we've come and how we look. Me too. It's nice to ride Willig on a good day like this.
And it was so useful to watch the other lessons, because instead of concentrating on trying to ride the movement, I could listen to what Mike was saying and watch what happened with the horse. I need to audit more things and watch more lessons - it was super educational.

Overwhelmingly underwhelming - Donida

Sticking with the theme of "this isn't going to be a rock star year", we got a 50.645% on Test 1-3 and a 56.216% on Test 1-2 at Donida today.
We got 4s and 5s. Shudder.
Now, for the most part, this was because Willig and his friend Al acted like they had never, ever seen a judge's stand before, and so pretty much every movement that required passage past the judge's stand was a couple points lower than normal.
In fact, that's all I really want to report on it. This is the highest level I've ever ridden in dressage, but we'll certainly be doing first level again next year and not second level.
Next weekend is Summervale, and my goal is to improve. Which shouldn't be hard to do.

The good news is it's not me being an idiot by myself

Willig can be kind of a snake in the grass about jumping. He darts out, really fast, sometimes at the last minute, without a whole lot of warning.
So I can:
- Feel the dart coming sooner; and/or
- React faster.
But that's about it. I know what to do, I'm just not recognizing he's going to dart in time, or reacting in time once I feel it about to happen.

So today we started with the wall. Here's three pieces of good news. First, I can now ride him on a loose rein past the scary end - ho-hum - that just a few months ago I was enviably watching J do and thinking I'd never be able to do that on Willig. Second, I don't get a knot in my stomach the day before my jump lesson. And in fact, this week when I jumped him by myself, I was looking forward to it all day. Yippee! Third, we started with the wall. The solid wall that a year ago I wouldn't even try, and 6 months ago, I did pretty much crying and definitely holding my breath only because I was in a lesson with Shannon. Now it doesn't even look big or imposing. It's just a jump. Yay! Yay! Yay!

Shannon wanted to start with the wall instead of dinking around over a cross rail to make him snap to it. She also suggested that I try some baby spurs she's got because he's getting kind of lazy and inclined to ignore my aids, even though I've gotten better about not anaconda squeezing the aid non-stop.
So as we turned towards the wall - I mean just turned, like 20 - 30' away - he refused. He ran out. So she made us make 10 meter circles in front of the wall, thinking leg yield him toward it, and inching closer and closer and then popping over it.
We did this both directions and then with the lattice and then with the skinny (the three he refused when I was by myself earlier in the week). The point was that it's way more work to be all ditchy, and he might as well just go over it when I point him at it.
The other big thing was getting his attention. He's trying to look at the jump, or another jump, or a thing under a jump, or the poodle, or the pasture, or Shannon, or anything that is not listening to me. So giving a leg aid, asking him to leg yield, giving a smack with the whip, making a noise - so that his attention refocuses on me. This applies in between fences too.
To fix this Shannon also suggested taking scary stuff (like the tarp that's out there and hanging it over a fence) and not jumping, but just riding 6" past it, so that he learns he has to go where I say when I say it, and that it's less work and less scary to just be obedient. She said there was no obvious reason for the ditching (a couple times, I was grabby, but it wasn't causing the ditching).
So then the other big thing we worked on was rhythm. Coming in saying 1-2-1-2 (at the canter) and then when he lands, he likes to dive and kind of barrel along on his forehand, so give him a few really strong half-halts, pull him back up, and then get him back to 1-2-1-2, but not plummeting to a trot or walk (like I usually do) and not riding him all grabby and scared after every fence. It helps me enormously to say it loud to myself on the way to the fence and as soon as we land.
And then to try, even if he comes in fast and flat, not to pull back before the fence, but to let him go.
Although it was lame he was ditching, it was good to deal with it, so that I know that I'm working on the right thing when I'm by myself (and not making it worse) and to just keep plugging away at it. He's kind of a kook. Today he didn't give a rat's ass about the blue barrels, which are normally the bane of his outdoor existence.

I have NEVER ridden with spurs in my life - my lower leg has always been too bad - so it will be very interesting! Which is another good thing - whether Willig comes in short, low, fast, long, or just right - I have been feeling so good and balanced in the air. Shannon got me my jumping seat back!

Another thing I learned from Pony Club D Manual, which apparently every one, including 6 year olds, knew and I didn't, is that you are supposed to clean your tack, then oil it, then saddle soap it. My entire life I have been saddle soaping and then oiling. And clean the tack with a moist, warm sponge after every ride.

I also just finished Jane Savoie's, "It's not just about the ribbons" which I liked. Some of the visuals were helpful, and it was a good reminder to have a positive attitude instead of thinking about negatives. I've been trying to visualize riding my dressage tests instead of just thinking the pattern.

I continue to need lessons to slowly learn the blindingly obvious, once learned

I had a dressage lesson today, where I bemoaned my fair, but disappointing, dressage scores, particularly the 5 on a right 20 meter trot circle, where, irony of all ironies, he was counterbent - to the LEFT (the side Mike has to basically wrestle me into bending at all towards even when we're already going left).
Mike had three suggestions for moving from 6s to 7s:
1) Increase the connection. I'm riding all kind and soft, with the attitude "oh, please, Mr. Willig, won't you pick up the connection, wouldn't that be nice?" instead of telling him and then picking it up, like the assertive person that I am (when people are using the nice word (assertive) instead of their other choices). This is probably the same problem over fences, that my fellow boarder observed ("I didn't hear you growl when he was intending to refuse?")
2) Increase the bend. Look at his inside eyelashes. Make him do it. We practiced this by clamping my outside hand onto his withers, and then pulling my inside hand to my hip bone. He can do it; and he doesn't mind doing it. It's my pansy attitude.
3) Make him sparkle by trotting on the verge of lengthening. Don't ride it delicate or conservative - it's 5-6 minutes of my life - ride every second and ride it hard. This extra oomph is what's missing - I get timid at a show because I don't want to mess up, so I ride the test conservatively instead of going for the 8 and maybe breaking in a movement and getting a 4.
The other things we talked about:
- I drew a picture of what I thought shoulder in, haunches in, renvers, and travers looked like, because I'm having trouble with where he is and where I am and how I ask for them. And it turns out, that's because I was visualizing them wrong. So Mike re-drew them, then also showed me on the ground, then at the end of the lesson, made me ride each one. I have some kind of mental block about this, so I'm going to have to study the drawings, practice with my body, and then practice, practice, practice. The big thing I got out of today, was - like using my canter aid further back from my last lesson - I'm not moving my legs (outside leg aid, inside leg aid) just squeezing like an anaconda - so how in the world would he know which of those he's supposed to be doing?
- If I want Willig to "sparkle" in his tests and start getting 7s and 8s instead of 6s (something the test scores have consistently said this year is pretty much that we're on the cusp and need to take that step), I need to RIDE him like a 7 and 8 during my rides; not just with Mike. This is the "slowly learning the blindingly obvious" part of the title of this post. Sometimes it is embarrassing how long it takes me to catch on to something that is really common sense. If out of 14 rides, 13 are lazy, why in the world would he think the 1/14 is the goal?
- I struggled with riding into the corners from our last lesson. That's because I was overdoing it. Mike said for Training and 1st level, it's ok to start your corner 5 meters from the corner (about quarter line between C and M, for example) and then end it about 5 meters from the corner (about the letter, which I think is 6 meters). So I don't have to ride him deep in the corner (yet - they do at upper levels).
- The 7 minute warm up? While not ok at a recognized show, Mike said a younger horse or a horse at the lower level can be ready to go - it's a mental block on my end. And I immediately thought of other times I wouldn't neurotically be there two hours ahead of time (traffic jam, flat tire, won't load, forget something), so that ended up being a good opportunity to think and learn about how to handle that differently in the future. (Although yes, we probably would have had more sparkle with my 45 minute warm up. And ok, probably the refusals in show jumping were because I didn't warm up there either, because I didn't like the footing.)
- Make Willig respond. The first time is ok, but he better go by the second. And it shouldn't be me doing the work but him. When I give the canter aid, he better canter that second - not when he feels like it four seconds later.
- For example, the stretchy circle needs to stretch by the time we start the circle, not half way around. When I ask for shoulder-in, I want it on the first step, not half way down the arena.
- His leg yields were very nice. Think about being a waitress holding a very heavy tray and keeping everything together the whole movement - don't let him wobble half way after he starts really nice.
- I think there was something else brilliant, but it's escaping me at the moment.

Non-lesson thoughts:
When I was cleaning his feet before I rode, he kicked me with his hind feet (made contact with first one, I was ready for second one), so after I rode I utilized my very dusty and rusty horse massage skills, and woo-weeeee Willig had some knots. I feel sorry for him. So I gave him a vitrolin rub and tried to rub out the biggest knots, and I'll try again this weekend.
I also finished reading the Pony Club D manual, where I somewhat horrifyingly learned a few things I didn't know. There's an adult pony club called Horse Masters, but it doesn't look like anyone has started one in Olympia yet.
And for the next two recognized shows, I'm going to volunteer for each of the segments and try to learn through observation (something I have been woefully inadequate on for a few years now), and then MAYBE sign up for NWEC.

Last two show jumping

My barn friend got some great shots (in addition to saving my neck with the changed dressage ride time), although I missed out on a cheap photographer deal for xc.
I took the best xc shot and made it the new entry photo. What I like the best is ... I'm smiling! I'm having a good time over the last fence!
(Ok, and I like my position too.)

Show jumping

In the rain.
Although these are small (and I'm on the other side of the arena and it's raining), I like how much my position has improved if you look back at old (wincingly bad position) pictures in the blog.

CVPC Derby

What a mixed bag!
There was a mix-up with my entry, and although they didn't have it, they graciously included me Sunday. But then my dressage time changed from 1:30 to 11:30 after the last time I checked. So when I leisurely pulled in, expecting to go walk the course a couple of times, it turns out I had 15 minutes to tack up Willig and warm up. Thanks to my barn friends (they did the grooming and tacking while I changed clothes) I shot over to the check-in with about 7 minutes to warm up. But the two riders before me didn't show, so after only about two laps of trot, they asked me if I would go ahead! I asked for a couple more minutes, and then after a whopping 3 minutes of warm up, we rode the dressage test.
And scored the right score for the test, but a lousy score for the class. #18 out of 24! There was a stupid error on my part (I halted at x) which wouldn't have mattered whether my test had been two hours later or not, but that was kind of discouraging since it's Willig's strongest suit.
Then the footing was not so great in the show jumping warm up, so I only popped a couple of fences. Although Willig was a tiny bit squirrely, it was only a tiny bit, so I merrily made my way towards fence 1, which he tried to refuse, and then popped from a walky-stop thing, shooting me out of the stirrups but back onto his back, and I only just barely got them on again for fence 2. This was a course with a lot of "tight" turns (for airplane carrier manuverability Willig), so then we may or may not have had a run-out at the last second at 3, and then definitely a run out at 4, where I didn't yank the opposite way, but got him right back in front of the fence and beat him while he tried to jump it from a halt, and then I felt sorry for him and turned around and he jumped 4-9 fine.
But the xc course had the teeniest, tiniest ditch (it was disguised behind a ground pole), and show jumping plus the "ditch", plus then warm-up for xc (Willig started bucking when he landed) got my nerves all a twitter. And so, for the part I was the nerviest about, Willig was a champ. He tried to stop at fence 2 (I chose the direct, taller route - using the very precise leg/crotch measuring system both fences 2 and '10' were novice height), and I had vacillated whether to go there at the 2nd fence. I decided to becuase a) I saw Zoe being scared of the jump judges at the long route, b) fence '10' was even bigger, and c) the taller alternate was hemmed in so it was harder to run-out. So he did one of his walky-jumps, but after that was a total, absolute rock star, who utterly redeemed himself from his show jumping hijinks.
We only came in #14 (out of 24) at the end, but for Willig's first go Beginner Novice? I'm pretty stoked. I'm not sure it's worth it to ride recognized this year, but I think we'll be ready for sure next season.
By the by, when I was riding yesterday to get ready, I tried to think of the most scary way we could ride. I took him straight outside and worked only at poodle side until a nasty downpour made us run for the indoor. And a lot of our home fences are 2'11" now, and I just want to point out (to myself) - from last year to this year? HUGE PROGRESS. That's huge. Amazing. I didn't think we'd make it how last year was going.
So now it's just going back and refocusing on WHY he refuses the show jumps and how to stop those last minute run-outs. I suspect they're only last minute to me - that someone on the ground can see them coming a few strides out.

Willig remembered our deal; I didn't

Two lessons ago, we rode the Forest Park xc fences, and I made a deal with Willig that if he could be the rockstar, I'd get him the next time. So he was.
Then, the next time was in the downpour schooling at NWEC, I asked him to just cart me one more time, and I'd get him the next time. So he did.
And then I promptly forgot that Willig has ever been the slightest bit difficult and today rode him like a little delicate pansy until he made sure I remembered the deal and actually rode him - in the freakishly bizarre second rain storm we've ridden in. It's MID-July!!!
Take-aways:
1. Shannon said if I feel comfortable at the canter then I'm not going fast enough. Take it up just a little notch. (Same goes for her, which always helps me to hear.)
2. RIDE. Him. Assertively. Poor Shannon, having to say that every freaking lesson for two years now. When he's in an ADD mood, I have to ride every second of every step (but not over ride; just be ready for the corrections). He was doing some quick spins and run-outs today, and even though it felt like a slow motion train wreck coming, I just couldn't get my act together to correct it before it happened, and he'd spin, and I'd circle and we'd take the fence. The baby step good news is that we don't have to putter around for an hour in between the bad behavior and the next fence.
3. Ride him in front of my leg, in a defensive posture, with my legs in front of me, and my seat deep, and let him lift me over the fence. i.e. Stop overjumping. When he's coming in short or long, I tend to overjump because I'm anxious because I feel that we're short or long.
4. Use whip, voice, leg. Do not start pulling. Give him a long approach to look at the fence. Particularly if he's having an ADD moment.
I think those are the high points. It was a good lesson because I jumped him Wednesday and he was easy and fine, so I came in with a really "he's cooooolll, dude" kind of approach. Which is fine if he's cool, but I'm not adapting quickly enough. So although I'm disappointed he was in a mood, I'm glad we had the learning opportunity in the lesson BEFORE the show. And I have my fingers crossed for a good Willig/good riding day there.

Patience with Willig = ROCKSTAR Willig!

I got Willig about 3 1/2 years ago (if I'm remembering correctly). Because we couldn't get his hives under control, I ended up leaving my trainer's barn, and spent the next year working with him by myself.
I am pretty sure, in hindsight, that the last 3 years have been undoing the damage I did in that year by myself. This wasn't entirely by myself, because I also took Willig to some clinics, and that's where we ended up with the really bad fall (trying to jump a ditch - well, successfully jumping the ditch, and then bucking until I flew off) that made me scared until ... today.
And yes, I had nerves again on my way out, and earlier in the week tried to back out using the weather as an excuse.
Well, weather be damned, we just had a great schooling cross country day, even with a total downpour at the end.
Willig jumped EVERY. SINGLE. FENCE. except the "last" one, and then Shannon made us do the course we were doing three more times (mostly because I didn't make a big deal out of it).
He has a harder time with courses than single fences, and an even harder time when there's multiple fences (I think it's horse ADD, and he doesn't know where to focus). So Shannon said at the next show (we're signed up Beginner Novice!) to give him nice long approaches, put his attention on the fence, sit down a few strides out, and ride him assertively! Kick, cluck, growl, use the stick.
He jumped a bunch of log piles of various sizes, some of which looked Novice to me. He jumped off a bank. I had a hard time not jumping, and keeping my butt planted in the saddle and letting the reins run out, so this took a few tries, but he was a trooper every time.
He went in and out of the water, and jumped a bank out of the water.
He had a couple jigs were he came close to a halt (definitely a walk) but jumped BN height totally, totally fine from a walk/halt.
And mostly - he jumped like a dream. We go left pretty badly after each fence (I have no idea what I'm doing to make that happen), but my heels and legs felt GREAT, and even with the few awkward ones, I felt nice and balanced over his back.
And then we did a little 4-fence BN course, with brush in front and a hill and everything, in the slick wet tall grass, and other than the jig and half-ass refusal (and then jumped from the halt), he was gorgeous! It was fun again!
Except for Shannon, her daughter, Willig, and me were just completely soaking. Shannon and her daughter's feet were totally soaked (mine were too from the lunging), and I had my helmet, but each time I glanced down water just poured onto my saddle. So I really, really, really appreciated them being out there to help me out.
And now I am actually looking forward to the rest of this year's show season. We may just make a recognized show at the end of the season!
A few other reflections:
Shannon came out and schooled with me last year sometime. That time, he had a few bucking episodes, and it took us like 20 minutes to jump the bank the first time. NOTHING like that this time! Progress! Grass growing!
The "good rider" book I was raving about a few posts back talks about how even a great rider gets nerves, but the good reward feeling he gets at the end is proportional to the nerves at the start. I've been reminding myself of that when I get that knot in my stomach. That knot means good things are coming ... even maybe sometimes a few hours away.
The patience approach that Mike and Shannon advocated worked. We backed WAY off from what we were trying to do in the clinics, and they told me to trust it and take my time, and lo and behold - he's like a different horse. And he's not jumping them out of terror, but actually jumping them. And he's a gorgeous jumper to ride - he has a moment of suspension that is just divine in the air.
So, yes, of course I wished that I didn't mess up for those few years, but I learned some good stuff. And since we're not superstars (just rockstars), Willig has lots of good years left (he's 10 this year) to really improve on this stuff and make a lot of progress in dressage.

1-2 & 1-3 scores

61.892% (1-2)
57.742% (1-3 - he did not feel like he should have to work again - it was an ugly test)
60.270% (1-2 - it did feel slightly less great than the first one, but pretty good)
60.323% (1-3 - it felt WAY better than the prior test, but only went up <3%!)

The consistent comment was:
More connection

The secondary comments were:
Haunches are in (crooked) a lot
Hollow
Needs better balance
Needs rounder topline
More stretch at stretchy circle
Head tilt

Looking spiffy at Dressage in the Park

Tips for 1st level

In today's lesson, we started with canter, and then worked on my leg aid - thinking about swinging my legs like scissors (something remarkably painful to do - I need to do more hip opener stretches at home), and then asking for the canter thinking about my leg back touching my saddle pad. Mike got draw reins for Willig so I'd have one less thing to think about, and I also learned that they can be attached to the girth OR under their belly!
Willig was pretty leery of both ends of the arena (judge's stand, weirdly placed stuff outdoors), but in a way, it makes him easier to ride because he's got more get-up-and-go, but I'm also thinking that both ends are scary, and so I ride pretty much the whole arena instead of slacking off on the non-scary side.
Then, after some of the "regular" work (quick responses to quick changes - walk-stop-trot-stop-walk-canter-etc.) I rode both my tests.
Here's the take aways:
- Remember to start the movement before the letter. If I'm turning left at C (from X) to extend at H, then start revving him up at C.
- It's ok to use the whip to get the movement correct (but not cluck).
- Make everything bigger and more exaggerated. It feels exaggerated to me, but it's really not. Make the lengthened canter enormous - like those horses at the Olympics who are rearing back and LIFTING their front legs - instead of Willig, plowing his way to China. Mike said the lengthen needs to at least double from what I think is crazy fast.
- A 15 meter circle is smaller than I think it is.
- And for some reason, I was off on all my letters - undershooting them like I was in a 3/4 size arena.
- On the counter canter loop, spend a couple of strides on the center line before going back over.
- Don't let his head/neck bend too much on leg yield.
- Same as lengthening canter - actually lengthen the trot - but don't throw him away. Get that "lift" and skip in the steps.
- Our centerline and halt is a bit crooked. Feel that, and correct very lightly (he very quickly overcorrects to haunches out the other direction). (This one is a follow up for a future lesson because it seems to be coming from crookedness in me.)
- It's ok to walk a couple steps to get a square halt (and to walk a couple to go back to trot).
- I can spend quarterline to quarterline on the lead change, so trot at quarterline, get him readjusted, and then ask for lead change before the other quarterline.
- Ride him forward in the scary corners so he doesn't have an opportunity to break.
- Medium walk should have momentum. I lollygag. Willig has a nice walk (naturally) so I'm diminishing our opportunity to take advantage of the double coefficient!
- More stretchy on the stretchy circle (and warm up with some stretchy, not with holding him all rigid and tight).
- The judge is looking for the momentum mostly.
No wonder I feel like I never get it all. These are just Mike's tips to help us take off the rough edges just from 12 minutes of riding in a 45 minute lesson. I need to start recording and transcribing the lessons to catch more of it!

SPECTACULAR Willig! Cross-country champion!

Beginning mid-morning today, I had a big, nasty ball of fear in my stomach about today's lesson. I had intellectually intelligently asked Shannon to jump the x-c jumps outside, but emotionally wrenchingly didn't want to. And yesterday Willig was full of pep and vinegar, and although I was able to warm him up on the non-scary side of the arena, I gave up and put him on the lunge line (where he lunged himself for 30 minutes with mucho bucking) for the far side. (I did ride him both dressage tests after that, but he was pretty sweaty and jerky.) This wasn't entirely his fault, because I had a week where each day went wrong on its own, making his only ride with J on Thursday.
The course was down because the arena got dragged this week, so Shannon had us warm up on a circle (Willig needs to pay attention and be very responsive to my aids. And when he ignores me, whip him and make the "eettcch!" sound), then in between the standards (scary pile of stuff), then down a bit farther (where of course, the *&#&*(#& poodle came out).
Then she set up trot ground poles, both directions, then canter ground poles, both directions, then a big canter ground poles that eventually I had to do in a 2-point both directions. Then a cross-rail, both directions, a vertical, both directions, a vertical that sneaky got higher in between, both directions, and then an oxer that got fairly impressive looking. This didn't take nearly as long as it sounds.
The message was ride him assertively, and RIDE him to the fence. Look at it as I come around the corner, give him a couple of balancing half-halts but keep him MOVING towards it, and then sit back, kick him, and let him jump it.
The oxer especially, it helped me to think 1-2-1-2 about half way across on the circle (if the fence was 3:00, I started thinking it at 9:00) to help me keep the rhythm and not rush or slow down towards the fence. It also helped me breathe, which I was having a hard time doing.
Then we went out into the field.
We went straight to the little baby log from a trot. Willig tried immediately to dart left, then dart right when that didn't work, and I jammed him over it. And Shannon said, at the end, that it set the stage for the rest of the jumps. I was supposed to ride him straight after, trot, then halt. Then we turned around and jumped it again, heading back towards the barn. And he was hard to stop. So Shannon showed me how to plant one hand on his neck, and use the other hand to pull (and release) HARD. So we flipped back and forth like that for a while.
Then she set up blue barrels next to the next fence, and we had to jump those both directions. And the message was: "don't jump like a pansy". Ride him to the jump, even if I'm scared, ESPECIALLY if he's scared too.
By the way, I had offered Willig a deal when I was getting him out of the paddock. If he'd take care of me today, with my big ball of fear in my gut, I'd take care of him next time. And he pretty much came through for me.
So then we jumped little log, turned around, and came back and jumped barrels.
And then we jumped little log, turned around, and came back and jumped novice level angle.
And oh. my. lord. Willig jumped like an angel.
And we did it again. And he jumped it like an angel again.
So with my jaw hanging open, other than begging Shannon to stop while we were ahead (and she pointed out she had three decent x-c size fences, so we were doing three fences), we went to the intimidating looking log pile. It has, maybe 1' length logs, but two big piles on the end, so it looks big, so she said Willig could look at it. And we approached it at what felt like an awfully fast walk for stopping in front of it, and then I felt him rock back on his haunches, and she said he lifted his front leg, ready to clamber over it like he is supposed to do! He's hilarious.
We actually jumped it from the other direction, going around a patch of scary trees (birds must sit in there and make noises or something), and he ... jumped it like an angel. And then again.
He was totally carrying me and while he looked at each one, he didn't hesitate for a second, and he jumped them like a sweet, floating pegasus.
So then we went to the one that looks the most intimidating to me - it's on a bit of a hill going down and has a log in front of it, so it looks bigger (Shannon swears it's not). And we walked towards it first, to get our line, and then swooped right around and trotted it.
...
Angel again.
He just jumped it divine.
And I started laughing and patting him and then: "Eeek! A bird! Holy shit!" and he spun around and I lost my stirrup, but thanks to his new improved spooking, he just stopped after that.
So we jumped it again. Angel jumping, but spooked at the bird again.
So we rode circles, leg yielding out towards the tree with the bird, and then jumped it again, and then Mr. Perfect did a perfect straight line with an ear towards the bird but that was it.
He was divine.
So all that patience has, maybe, paid off. That's an important lesson for you kids. Trust your trainer and build his confidence, even if you want to do something bigger. And also, most of this - ok, for today, all of this - is coming from me and my scary fall and wow - that really did a number on my mental side.
So I'm going to stick with the program because if we can get really comfortable doing this at home, the shows will be no big deal.
Yay, yay, yay Willig!

Leg yields, bend, and lengthening

I asked for help with three issues in today's lesson: test 1-3's right hand 10 meter circle at X to a left leg yield to H we're still trailing the haunches; Shannon's observation that I ride heavy on the hand corrections and not so much on the leg; and the lengthenings might just be "speedenings".
Since I had, remarkably, already warmed up by the time my lesson started (instead of racing in the arena 5 minutes before it started, despite my best efforts to be early, which is my usual m.o.), we got right into leg yields. First we rode shoulder-in down the walls, then down the fake line that is the test size. Then we started riding from the corner to the center line. Big message here: make him do it. Ask for it and then demand it if he doesn't fly off my leg.
By the way, that's the theme from today's lesson. When I ask, he should do. Crisp, prompt responses to my aids, not 4-5 steps of slugging around.
Second big message: counterbend a bit as we come around the corner. So to start the leg yield at K, at A I start preparing by bending him a bit left.
Another big message: my motorcycle corners? This is how I need to fix them. I bend him more and more the direction we're going (for A to K, that's right) and he collapses further and further in. I need to counter bend him to the left so that we come around the corner (deeply) and emerge a straight horse. While this feels crooked, like we're all crazy bent to the left - not only is the feeling deceptive, but Mike says over time, you go from gross scale (yelling) to fine scale (whispering).
In addition to the shoulder-ins for warm up, also just do the western straight across side pass. Then the leg yield feels easy.
Willig was actually doing this really well today. It's mostly me bending him the "wrong" way, and then preparing and applying that same activity on the last quarter of the 10 meter circle, which is harder.
It's ok also to think "shoulder-in" if he's trailing, so if we're going from X to H, shoulder in for a moment to the right and then it fixes the trailing.
The next big thing we did, after the light bulb moment about the corners, was my difficulty with the physical part of the big circle haunches in we started last lesson. With Mike, it makes sense. On my one, I get all confused about where everything is supposed to be. I can think of 3 new things at once, but not 6, and Mike pointed out it pulls a lot of things together. So if you're making a big haunches in circle to the right, it's your right leg and right rein 'steady', and then your left leg asking WHEN THE LEFT HIND LIFTS (this is hard to feel on a little circle for me) and the left rein flexing and the left hand using the whip. So mostly, I think I just need to keep working on this until it starts to congeal in my head.
Then we did another huge epiphany - we were trotting to get ready for canter to get ready for lenghtening, and Mike made me really ride him, not to dawdle around and let him crash around on his forehand. And when I pulled him all together and really pushed (this was, by the way, at least 10x harder than my normal riding; I was almost instantly out of breath), I felt the puff in his shoulders!! The puff that is there when Mike gets off that makes him so easy to sit on?!? I did it! I made the puff happen!! I couldn't even listen to Mike for like half a lap because I was ecstatic that I felt how to make the puff.
Now, how to describe it in words? It's above my head right now. It's all about pushing and holding together, but beyond that, it was just a feeling. And wow. There's our baby step towards being able to create that lift in the shoulders. Wow.
So then we did some trot lengthening, and I was right that Willig doesn't do it consistently. When he is really lengthening, there's that "skip" feeling at the end of the stride, and the skip throws me up out of the saddle. And Mike said we're past that - last year I flopped and flailed around, but this year, I know better, so when it gets big, sink my heels, drop my legs, and stay steady contact. Think about how I corrected it last year, and correct it here too. Don't let Willig go all crazy and lose all connection. Just ride the damn thing.
So the big take aways are the same message as always: work on prompt, responsiveness to the aids (like with the leg yield, I'm losing four steps getting him ready to go); prepare ahead of time for the next movement; and demand excellence from myself and Willig.
It was another GREAT lesson. We are definitely in territory that is new to me, so it's a little harder for me to retain it and translate it, even just a few hours later, but it is so fun to be learning so much and making so much progress. I had been sure after how far we've come since last year that there'd be a big long plateau, but this is just one cool thing after another.

The grass is growing!

Friday I jumped Willig by myself - well, we went over a fence multiple times - each time with its own style of ugly - but I'm counting it because ... my position was solid and although I was irritated with what a moron Willig was being (I think he was mad because my car was parked under a tree instead of in the parking lot, so the dogs wouldn't overheat) I felt like I had the lower leg and the tools to ride it. I couldn't ride the course I wanted, but I didn't go off.
So today he started out almost as goofy - he decided he was scared of the Gator, which was parked nearby. I thought the whole lesson was going to be a write-off (or at least, one of those "wonderful" lessons where I acquire another tool in my tool box for when he's being a moron - those are great, but actually jumping and feeling confident is more fun).
Instead, Shannon helped us pull it together - way better than I did on my own, and we ended up with a few take-aways:
1. Ride him. Ride him. Ride him. Stop being a passenger and ride him.
This was the main message of the lesson. We started over a little cross-rail - no big deal. Half halt on the way there, and then let him go the last couple strides. Sit up and heels forward and don't jump ahead.
We went from the cross rail straight to a course. To be a show off, I cantered it. Shannon said "great job, but next time canter it faster - you got five strides in the four stride". So there's the "push it a little further" for you.
Then we did a second, longer, harder course. Shannon moved blocks around, set a couple fences higher, hung her jacket in a terrifying place, and added ... the wall. She said if we did it perfect, we would only have to do it once.
And so we did it with one fault (the rail on top of the lattice).
Here's what was interesting:
- It's hard to ride him faster. It's hard enough to canter him, let alone push him forward. (i.e. I am really a chicken.)
- He tried to dart left at the wall, but I was half-expecting it, so my left leg - praise it! - actually wiggled a little on his side, and probably thanks to all J's riding - he went back to the right and we went over the wall. I made a correction! Without Shannon yelling it ahead of time!
- Shannon made us jump it a second time. And I realized, as I circled back around, that I was out of breath. Which was ... the only time I was out of breath on the course! The 2'9" oxer at the end of the combination didn't scare me. The barrels toward the poodle didn't scare me. The jacket hanging on the standard didn't scare me. The horrible flower boxes (they must look like a black hole to him or something) didn't scare me. Only the wall did. That's what I meant by the grass is growing. What huge progress from even just a few months ago, but definitely a year ago.
- It isn't that big. It's a mental thing because it looks solid. It was smaller than some of our other fences, and as we went over it, I thought "oh, this is nothing."
2. Ride him into the outside rein.
When he's being a doofus, I like to jerk on his mouth. Shannon said kick instead. If he tries to dart off, yes of course use the rein, but just try my legs first.
3. Make him respect me more than whatever he's being scared of.
Again with the Gator (although I think it applied to the fences after we worked so hard on going past the Gator), he needs to worry more about what I'm asking him to do and asking him to do next, than look for things to be scared of. Even if they're "legitimately" scary. (Nothing was, but in theory it could be.)
I think this is what J is doing when he is being a jerk, although she's too polite to ever call him a jerk. Or she actually rides, so his jerk-ness barely registers to her.
4. Did I mention the riding him part?
If I ride every fence, every stride, he holds his act together. It takes an enormous amount of concentration and focus, but the second time we came to the wall, I actually looked at it and thought "I can do this". I haven't felt that way on Willig in a long time. I'm super excited.

Good Book

I'm reading "how good riders get good" by Denny Emerson and finding it very apropros.

Here's a quote quoted in the book:
"Nothing in the world can take the palce of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost always a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan, 'press on' has solved, and always will solve, the problems of the human race." And riding. - President Calvin Coolidge

Here's some other gems from it:
Gina Miles says her latest philosophy is "I plan to be a better rider in five years than I am now."

The Plateau Concept
Just because you can't see grass growing doesn't mean it isn't. "[P]rogress is so slow and imperceptible that we are too close to see it on a day-to-day basis, often leading to the misconception that there isn't any progress."

Jane Savoie's "Flea Jar Factor"
Fleas learn the height of their jar and jump so their heads don't hit the top. Make sure that your fences build self-confidence, scare yourself a little, but not too much. Jump at home so that your "flea jar height" at a show seems so much shorter.

Performance Anxiety
"The euphoria I experienced on successful completion was directly proportional to the fear I experienced beforehand."
"The credit belongs to the man who ... if he wins, knows the thrill of high achievement, and if he fails, at least fails daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." - Theodore Roosevelt

Jekyll Willig, Grinning Martha

Driving to my lesson today, I had the usual sense of dread, and I realized why. With my jump lessons, I never know whether Willig is going to have a Jekyll day or a Hyde day. I HATE the Hyde days, although I'm always grateful that he's having one with Shannon there, because she always gives me some tips on how to deal with them (and now, for example, compared to last year, I can ride through most of his "bad" days - not his terrible days, but those are (knock on leather) few and far between), so that when I get one and I'm alone, I'm not totally at loose ends.
He had a kind of wild hair week - he bolted with J on Tuesday because he saw Bambi come out of the woods (from a walk - and she had already seen the deer, so she was prepared); on Thursday, as I already described, he had a fit about the spurs with Mike; on Saturday, where Bambi had been on Tuesday - horrors - a human was walking, so he got a bolty butt with me, and got to go work hills as his punishment; and so I didn't have the highest hopes for a good attitude today.
Well, lo and behold, he was in an excellent, easy going mood.
The main take aways were to:
1) Ride him straight to the center of the jump. He's going over the left side a lot, and then veering left on the far side. This must be me, but I don't know what I'm doing.
2) It's ok to give him a couple half halts a few strides out, but a couple strides out, relax and just ride the fence. Stop controlling and let him figure it out himself. Especially on an exercise fence, where there's ground poles and we're doing it repetitively.
We started with a cross rail on what I thought was a tight right turn, but was actually a very easy and doable right turn (see how easy your eyes - well my eyes at least - can deceive?). Shannon turned it into a vertical. Ho-hum.
Then we added a little combination - cross rail to vertical, around the blue barrels to the 4-stridish two verticals. Ho-hum. A little more "rushing" (not really, just feels like it to me) but no big thang.
Then the little combination turned into a vertical to vertical, and the 4-stridish got taller and then the lattice fence. "Yawn" says Willig.
The 4-stridish turned into an oxer and added the blue barrels. "Could you challenge me?" Willig says. (And I had a great moment here where I realized we were coming in too far on the left and several sides out tried to correct it. I wasn't successful, but at least I noticed, which is an improvement.)
The vertical before the oxer got taller, as did the lattice. Willig came in a bit short on the oxer and a bit long on the lattice, but he ... (drum roll) jumped them anyway - fixing himself - a bit awkward, but we went over fine.
And here was the shining moment - the first time over the oxer (which was 2'9" - I sheepishly snuck out and measured it afterwards) - holy floating, batman. When Willig jumps - when he actually has to lift himself a tiny bit into the air and create a bit of a bascule (right?) instead of just plodding over the "safe" 2' fences - oh my lord is he a pleasure to ride. It's these fences why I put up with the dread and the nerves that we're going to have a Hyde jumping day. It's like magic.
It's like - for those few seconds - that's when I feel present. Like a meditation style present. The same as when we've finally got everything together in dressage and he elevates his forehand. The same as when I used to rock climb. It's that moment of balance with the universe that is so incredible that it makes all the time and work and money and sweat and tears worth it - for those few seconds. And of course, the goal that all this work means that those seconds are going to come more often and last longer and that I'll have more ability to summon them. And hopefully until I'm 61, like the person riding at Rolex this year (!!).
And also, honestly, it makes me feel better that he pulls hijinks with better riders than me too. They may deal with it better than I do (they definitely do), but it's not because I totally suck that he tries to pull that stuff on me. He's just a horse.
On the drive, anyway, I remembered that was what John Camlin described about Willig when he was there for training. Some days, he was just a delight. Other days, he got up on the wrong side of the stall. And you couldn't predict and you couldn't change it - you just got whatever horse he was that day. That's just Willig. And I just have to cross my fingers that a show day is a Jekyll day and ride the best I can on a Hyde day.

Football = Riding?

A quote by Chuck Klosterman - he's writing about football, but I think it applies to any sport.
Riding "allows the intellectual part of my brain to evolve, but it allows the emotional part to remain unchanged. It has a liberal cerebellum and a reactionary heart. And this is all I want from everything, all the time, always."

Sleepy, yet naughty Willig

I asked today to work on some of the 1-3 movements. Although I can do them, I'm not sure I'm doing them the "correct" way - that a judge wants to see. In particular, the canter-trot-canter transition at X, the two 10 meter circles at X, and our straightness. I also wanted to review the walk-canter-halt work we started last lesson, because it has gotten really ... flailing as I've been working on it on my own.
So we started with just a 20 meter trot circle (thinking overflexed neck and then flexing him alternately left and right) with a lot of focus on the responsive transitions. And as we moved to canter, Willig decided he no longer knew how to pick up his right lead. So I got frustrated, and started collapsing in over my right hip, which would shove his hindquarters in (to the right) so he'd have to shove even harder out (to the left) and then would pick up the left lead. This got hilarious. In the sense that after riding for 20 years we couldn't successfully pick up the right lead canter is hilarious.
So after struggling with that, Mike switched us to some other work - doing the walk "pirouette" (feeling his hind leg crossing underneath) and then trotting, then a few steps of trot or walk and then back and just keeping him really, really focused.
Willig was, remarkably, lazy. He wasn't paying any attention to Prince, who was having a blast on the lunge line, Jessica riding, or me.
The other thing we focused on was me sitting up straight and tall - just like my trot position, and not to fold up and lean in when asking for the canter.
And to smack him with the whip when he ignores me. I'm very, very, painfully slow on this.
So then we did a bit of the 10 meter circles - all that stuff on the regular ground just makes him flexible and responsive and collected on his hindquarters, so this isn't as big a deal.
Then the left leg yield coming out of the 10 meter circle to the right - Mike said think "shoulder in" for a stride along the center line before starting the leg yield. While I got it in theory, I couldn't get Willig to stop trailing his hindquarters.
And of course, the walk-canter-halt work helps with the canter-trot-canter transition.
So Mike went and got his boots on, and came out and rode Willig for less than 10 minutes. Willig gave him a bit of a hassle at first (Mike said because of the spurs) but then settled down and just looked gorgeous.
When Mike got off, he said to work on keeping my left hand steady and kind of lifting my right hand - he thinks that I am probably squeezing with my right leg all the time, and also leaning on my right hip.
So I got back on, and holy cow - Willig was like a different horse. He felt puffed up in the shoulders - like someone had put a balloon between his front legs - and he was so sensitive. It was like I've been riding a horse with two dials (direction and speed) and after Mike got off, he had like 50. It was like switching from driving a beetle bug (two buttons) to a space shuttle (200 buttons). It was kind of overwhelming.
To wrap up the lesson, Mike was trying to get me to feel the straightness, and to get my body position better (turns out, I am riding around on the right lead with my left leg forward and my right leg back!), but mostly I was just "oooo, space ship".
I have NO idea how he does that with only 10 minutes on Willig. I wish I'd win the lottery so he could ride every day and I could take a lesson every day. Holy cow.
Like, he likes to talk about peeling the onion - we started with my heels down, and are gradually working into more and more detail. It's just that I thought the onion was like - I don't know - 10 layers. And today I realized it is at least 100 - maybe 1000.
So, unfortunately because we're working at the frontiers of my understanding, a lot of what happens in the lesson makes sense at the time (barely) but it doesn't stick enough on the first try that I can get it blogged properly. It's cool to be learning so much, but I wish I was a bit more natural at absorbing it.

EHV-1 in Washington

http://www.veterinarypracticenews.com/vet-breaking-news/2011/05/17/washington-state-veterinarian-cautions-horse-owners-about-ehv1-outbreak.aspx
A Washington horse that attended the National Cutting Horse Association event in Ogden, Utah from April 30 to May 8, tested positive for Equine Herpes Virus 1 (EHV-1), a highly contagious animal disease. Several confirmed cases in horses with severe symptoms have been diagnosed in Utah, Colorado and elsewhere.

Symptoms in horses include fever, sneezing, excessive salivation and other mild symptoms. Serious cases of the disease are rare, but can include staggering, hind-end paralysis and even death. The disease is not contagious to humans.

“While I have not yet placed any restrictions on the movement of animals, I strongly suggest that horse owners isolate animals that attended the Western National Championships in Ogden, Utah,” says Leonard Eldridge, DVM, Washington state veterinarian. “For the protection of other horses, these owners are advised to keep their animals home for a couple of weeks.”

The disease is spread from horse to horse through direct contact, on feed, tack and equipment or on the clothes and hands of horse owners. Considering the possibility of disease spread, owners are advised to carefully wash their hands and equipment to prevent the spread of the virus.

The time of exposure to illness of EHV-1 is typically two to 14 days. Horse owners attending the Ogden show should consider limiting the movement of their horses and isolate them from other horses to prevent further spread of the virus.

The EHV-1 positive horse that attended the Ogden show was treated at the Washington State University (WSU) veterinary teaching hospital in Pullman and was confirmed over the weekend. Blood samples from several other Washington horses that attended the Utah event are currently being tested at WSU’s Washington Animal Disease Diagnostic Laboratory.

Horses that show symptoms of EHV-1 should be seen by a veterinarian. Positive cases of EHV-1 must be reported to the State Veterinarian’s Office at (360) 902-1881.

2nd level canter transition work

Willig was having a high-spirited start, and I told Mike he might finally get the chance to really see Willig act up, since we spent 30 minutes warming up going past the "scary" blocks that have been out for over a week. No - Willig just made me show that what I'm doing (actually riding him) has been right, with just a little fine tuning to improve it.
Mike also pointed out that it's easier with another person on the ground, the other set of eyes who can see things differently than being the rider, and that even his younger horse will go past the blocks 20 times and then spook at them the 21st. All of which made me feel better - it's not just tiny brained Willig.
The high-spirited start came from a really soggy day of rain; it really makes a difference when he doesn't move around in his turn-out, because for once in the past two months, he'd actually been ridden for a couple days leading up to the lesson.
Anyway, so we worked on those "control" rides - which are the leg yield, circles, sitting plugged in, distracting him, asking him to bend his neck and give (he started out like riding a plank with a 100 pound weight on the end - even my wrist muscles were getting sore), and shoulder-in past the scary places. Mike suggested it as he can look with one eye, but not with both, which helped me know how much looking was ok.
For warm up, Mike suggested thinking overbent and overflexed, and then praising and releasing when he gave to me.
Then we worked on the one loop serpentine, and the responsiveness to the aids - when I ask for canter, he needs to be ready to leap into canter. And then from there, we ended with working on the 2nd level movement for simple change. A simple change is NOT from canter to trot back to canter on the other lead, but canter to walk to canter.
So we did a few walk-trot-walk transitions to get him responsive. Then I'd ask for the canter with a bit of a pop up. Like popping a wheelie. And a few times, albeit a bit ugly and ungainly, he'd "pop" and he'd kind of jump his shoulders up into the canter. We'd go just a few strides (like starting to do pull-ups Mike said - you don't do 30 the first time) and then think "halt" back down. I thought Willig did great, and Mike said to add this in to our work, just making sure to do a few strides only as he builds up to it.
It was a really satisfying lesson when I look back at a year ago, when I couldn't even ride him at the far end because he'd act up, and now I get irritated when he doesn't warm up perfectly at the far end when it's been raining and there's scary blocks.
And Mike pointed out that really, ideally if you were competing to win, you'd school 3rd level and show training level, and then you'd get 70s in training level.
I'm just happy that I'm able to ride Willig now, even with a bit of a hot start, and not need to lunge and I just kind of clench my jaw a bit and focus, and then he's just grateful I'm telling him what's what.

Canter just keeps getting better

Against all odds.
This week I had a lesson with Mike, and it was a really great one. It was one of those ones that was just jammed full of interesting stuff - way too much for me to be able to write it all down afterwards - but a few easy homework assignments:
- When Willig dives down from the canter to the trot (without me asking, or hell, even when I ask but I don't ask for a dive onto the forehand), sit back, sit up, plug my seat bones into the saddle, and ask him to trot up into my hand.
- Before the canter transitions, do some "half-steps" and then walk (half-steps = think piaffe) - just a few steps of each, just to get him listening and also I think he rocks back a bit on his hindquarters with these.
- Don't accept less than what he can do.
- For the 1st level canter serpentine - I had the geometry wrong in my head. You don't leg yield over and back, it's just two diaganol lines. You point his head from K to X, and then when you get to X, you swing his hindquarters around (counter-clockwise in this example) and then his head is pointing at H and you just ride another straight line to H. I've been making this way more complicated than it needs to be.
- The funny little "hop" Willig does sometimes when I whip him while we're cantering is his preparation for a flying lead change. That snot-nose DOES know more than he's letting onto.
- We worked on ... I forget the name, but the shoulder-in and then when you turn his neck the opposite way (travers?). So now we can do shoulder-in, haunches-in, and travers. I think we just need to learn renvers.
- Willig did more excellent canter work and excellent leg yielding. This is not due to anything I am doing on purpose, which is kind of frustrating. It's wonderful and fun, but I wish I knew what I was doing differently to be making these things stick.
It was a great lesson! I am so excited about how much we're learning, although I have a tsunami wave of work heading at me, and I am just trying to figure out how I can keep some semblance of riding and the rest of my life together with the limited hours there are in a week.

Peteton - first dressage show of the season

This was a mixed bag. Like the FPEC jumper benefit, I was overall pleased, but at the same time disappointed*. (*Because I am a perfectionist.)
First, the weather was schizophrenic. Sun shining, gorgeous, then dumping rain 10 seconds later. While I love Washington summer, and can't wait for it to get here, this is the time of year I start getting frustrated. It doesn't help when I fail to get away during the dead of winter to somewhere sunny.
Second, Willig was a nut. He was rearing tied to the trailer, then I lunged him and he was leaping around the mounds with a crazy eye, and then I put him back on the trailer and he tried to roll, and basically he tried to dig a hole to China at his spot. Al was on the other side of the trailer and there were like two hoof marks. Willig's side of the trailer looks like someone was plowing to get ready to plant corn for the village for the year.
Third, I had the dogs in the truck, and while they were good and quiet, I was feeling guilty, and also anxious about the temperature (too hot, too cold, too wet).
So because Willig had his crazy eye, I got on him about an hour before my first ride. Fortunately, Shannon was just wrapping up working with Kerry, so she gave me a hard 15 minutes of warm up, which pretty much settled Willig down. Then we walked for about half an hour (at which point he got the "hops" and we had to side pass all the way down the long side because he wanted to be a moron - not showing off if anyone who was there watching is reading this - trying to avoid some bucking/bolting action). And then warmed up.
Now, two things were different. The test was inside, in a small arena, which I had NOT practiced the tests in.
And then, I haven't ridden the tests in about two months - usually I ride them way more than anyone would recommend, so that I have them memorized kinesthetically and can think about other things than the next movement during the test, like riding.
So this was a double whammy because the arena was small, the next movement came up fast, and I was already struggling to make sure I remembered the test.
What was satisfying:
- After Willig settled down, especially after the first ride, he was actually quite nice - much nicer than he's been since pretty much mid-March, when I quit being able to ride so much.
- And most of the low scores were expected: the small arena (it is really hard to lengthen him and collect him up when it only takes him like three strides to do the long side; similarly, it's hard to not lead with the shoulder when you're coming off a 10 meter circle at R and only leg yielding from X to K), and then his lack of bend and "quick" responsiveness are just me not riding him enough.
He got 3rd for 1-1, a decent sized class and just like .1 away from 2nd, and then sort of 2nd for 1-2, but she was scoring 1-3 with 1-2, and I didn't wait to see how the full thing broke out.
The scoring was on the hard side, but he got 58.276 for 1-1 and 57.838 for 1-2.
I'll probably just do 1-2 and 1-3 the rest of the season (I don't think I can remember three tests) and my ambitious goal is 2-1 for the informal stuff at the end of the season and to start working on a level 1 freestyle.
It was also good to have Shannon there because she holds us to the higher, consistent standard (see previous post on Mike's lesson), and then she always has really good suggestions, like: she pointed out that we weren't using the corners as much as we could (and thus, losing easily four strides on every lap around the arena), pointed out what I could do to make better use of my warm up (I get lazy), and also pointed out that once I enter the arena, I similarly shouldn't dawdle around in there, but make the most of my 1-2 minutes before my test starts. The best tip was not to ride him around all held up and squished at the sitting trot, but to let him relax, stretch out his back and topline, and post while I'm waiting to start the test. It was one of those "duh, why didn't that ever occur to me" and I'm so glad she said it.
Also, it was great to be there with Shannon there and with a friend. It makes such a huge difference in the day to be able to share it with someone.
So for Willig to start out on the wild side, I was very satisfied with how he performed during the tests. Reflecting back, a year ago I probably couldn't have even ridden him in one of those moods, and this time, I tried to channel that injury into "sparkle". And I'm not scared of it as much, more irritated, and it makes me ride him better (and then he's grateful for the clear direction).
I also rode the whole test at the sitting trot. Mike had suggested that I post, since my back is back to locked up (my fault for not working on it enough), but then it was easier to ride the small arena sitting because it made me keep him packaged so that we wouldn't overshoot a movement. And I did it! A year ago I could barely sit the trot - and I sat it like I was a tin man with only three joints - and now I can do it! This continues, with my lower leg, to be the thing I'm most proud of.

When Mike takes it up a notch, we both get sore

We had a couple weeks off from lessons because Mike was showing in southern California, and the timing worked out "well" because they were two terrible weeks for me with almost no riding. (In theory, that would be good timing, in practice, I ride more regularly and show up for my lessons if I have them, no matter how busy or terrible I think my week is going. So I've taught myself that I need to have at least a lesson every other week - I try to do Shannon even weeks and Mike odd weeks so that I actually end up with a lesson every week.)
So we didn't get to work on most of what he had us doing the last lesson, and then the first informal show was coming up fast (next post) and I hadn't even ridden test 1-1 or 1-2 in a couple of months.
While Mike had us do some of the 1-2 movements, and gave me feedback on how to improve those, what he really did was start holding us to a higher standard. Now, as the title says, when Mike decides to hold us to a higher standard, my abs get sore, and Willig seemed to be a bit sore the next day too) (although not two days later, for the show, when he had a crazy eye).
This is really hard to ride, because I have to think about what feels like everything every second, and here we go back to riding with Bob ... if I would quit trying to control it (i.e. think about everything every second) and just ride it, for god's sake, I could be present and in the zone instead of a freaking control freak.
That being said, it gets amazing results.
So some of the things I'm now thinking about (the next layer of the onion):
- No more puttering around! When I ask for something, Willig better respond. No beating on him with my legs, no clucking, no whip-whip-whipping. I ask; he gives.
- No more lollygagging. We were weaving in and out, couldn't hold the 20 meter circle to save our lives, his head was tossing or grubbing, and Mike is just like "are you ASKING him for that or is he just doing it because he feels like it?" (Hint: I am not asking him to grub while he weaves like a drunken sailor on and off the rail.) I'm the rider, and I need to be the boss.
- Work on my sitting trot. I haven't been working on it, and I'm locking my back up again, so I need to go back to work without stirrups. Mike kindly (praise the lord!) said we weren't doing it during the lesson, and that's good because it wasn't just my abs that were sore the next day, even without being without stirrups.
What does this all boil down to? Consistency.
- Then taking his movements up a bit. When I ask for a canter, no lifting his head, no falling on his forehand, no rushing, no hurrying, no waiting 3 strides before doing it.
- And similarly, asking for him to be on the bit - no head up in the air, no grubbing. A nice "waterfall" neck.
- And also, asking him to bend to the inside. He's not physically deformed. Do it, Willig, do it.
- Then asking him to actually move. Impulsion.
- And then asking him to stretch down on that stretchy circle. The half-ass "stretch" isn't good enough anymore.
So I loved it. I love that Mike is making it harder and not letting us just get away with a plateau, and I love that he's able to ask for harder, explain, patiently ask again, and then not gloat when I grin with pleasure when we catch on.
He said we're approaching the next level of stuff, and that we can do it (renvers, travers, flying changes) and at "flying changes" I started laughing, and he pointed out that last year I never would have believed I'd be where I am right now. And he's right.
I'm super excited. I love these lessons because they make me want to work harder in between so we can go even further the next lesson. It's just my damn job and rest of my life, all those hours I'm not riding ...

Another rainbow at FPEC

Road to Kentucky Benefit Show

Today was the Forest Park hosted benefit show for J and her fellow pony clubber to raise funds for their super exciting trip to Kentucky later this year.
Willig was a half-ass rock star. Some of the jumps were a bit more than we're used to (ok, a lot more, like the one that was two trees), and without Shannon, I probably would have chickened out and made more excuses not to ride (I've had the shittiest shit week, which means Willig only got ridden once, by J, during the week) and just watched and then went off and did other things. Instead, I was Shannon's shadow for the first couple hours, which gave me the confidence I needed to finish off on my own.
Here's how I tackled it:
- Lunged. He bucked. A lot. But I kept him working until he cut it out and then went just a little bit longer. He also fell down in one of his tantrums.
- Led and Looked. From the ground. I spent a while (a boring while) doing this. Instead of walking the course by myself (all 14 (!) fences - I'm getting too old for this!), we led him and Holly. He was a cool cucumber, which usually means he's bottling his fear up for once I'm on him and the monsters no longer have me on the ground as the tasty treat (while he makes a getaway).
- Lollygagged. (Just to make another "l" word.) We "schooled" the ground pole course together, at the walk, then at the trot. This took forever, but was very, very reassuring to me. It was also, quite possibly, my lowest point as a jumper, so it was very nice to share that moment with Shannon. You pretty much can't do anything less than this and still be "jumping". I guess you could carry the horse yourself.
- More lollygagging. Then we stood around in the warm up arena for a while, just so he got used to the activity.
- Cross-rails. We just tackled these like with the last lesson - ride every step. He was a little more nervous about it trotting (it's easier for him to shoot out sideways) and the long lines, when he could see several fences in a row, made him want to rush. So we walked the last long line. He just stepped over each cross-rail. Ironically, we placed 1st. The time they wanted you to aim for must have been "tortoise".
- 2'. This was easy breezy. It was fun. He knew what to expect, I knew what to expect, but I rode every step with a death grip on my hands. I could hardly flex them when we finished.
- 2'3". Then my confidence tubed, because they put flowers and flags and cones and brush under every stinkin' fence. Since Mr. W has problems with a single cone, I was pretty sure the good afternoon was about to be shot. But I gritted my teeth, clamped onto those reins, and ... we did it! Hooray for us! Except for one refusal (the combination "rainbow") where he did a classic Willig run out abruptly to the right, which I did NOT feel coming at all. But thanks to how he's been teaching me with numerous examples of what to do and what not to do, I yanked him hard to the right, which was ... right into fence #6, which surprised both of us, so he ... jumped it. And then I was still yanking right, so we ended up making this tiny 10 meter circle with a jump at 3:00, and then at 12:00 went over the fence he refused the first time. I could hear the spectators laughing. They said it looked like it was on purpose (it wasn't).
So I'm really super pleased with how he did. A week off. A change in his own home. A LOT of stuff to look at and going on. And just one refusal, and we rode it. Good job, Willig!
Now if only every show let you have that kind of build up ... and was conveniently located at home.
This day was definitely the high point of my week. And they did a great job organizing and running it, with their creative and fun course. And they had a good turn out, so I hope they raised some good money for their trip.

This cow looks like she could kick W's ass

Horse dreams dashed, German teen turns to cow Luna
When Regina Mayer's parents dashed her hopes of getting a horse, the resourceful 15-year-old didn't sit in her room and sulk. Instead, she turned to a cow called Luna to make her riding dreams come true.

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2014686063_apeugermanyjumpingcow.html

Oh! That's what "ride every step" means!

For the last several months, during both of my lessons, I have heard the words, but have felt kind of cloudy. I try to do what Mike or Shannon are saying, but it doesn't seem to make total sense (or I feel like I'm already doing it) or have much effect. But the last couple of lessons with each of them, it's like each lesson a major light bulb has gone off, and slightly embarrassingly, over really mundane stuff.
In yesterday's lesson with Shannon, after the last lesson's break through on keeping the contact, she was telling me to quit moving my left hand so much. I was pretty sure I wasn't moving my hand, but then suddenly, I felt it. Every step, I give just a bit. And then take it back. And so if I focused on that and planted my hand in place, Willig could relax. And like Shannon said, he's actually nice in the sense that he's obvious about when I'm doing it right, so I get rewarded for riding properly by almost immediately feeling the improvement.
I haven't been riding much or hard (still moving and getting the house ready for sale), so he's been a bit of a handful. He's harder to bend, less responsive to the aids, and gets skittish. But that made for a great "learning opportunity" on how to ride that during the lesson, and once again, Shannon didn't disappoint.
The two positive signs were that when I'm riding on my normal schedule, I'm actually making my life easier - i.e. he's overall more fun and enjoyable to ride (kind of a surprise, because I've assumed all my habits are so bad that I just make them worse between lessons). And second is that I CAN ride him when he's being skittish and has low responsiveness - I have acquired the skills and tools!
The big break through on the flat was that moving left hand and needing to think about "planting" it.
Then we went outside to jump. I asked for it, purely because I 100% didn't want to do it. We haven't been riding much outside, I certainly haven't jumped him outside, and I haven't jumped him at all on my own since my last lesson.
And so Shannon sent us right to the far end (the scary end), put us on a trot, then canter circle, and right over this 2' vertical. And she said (second breakthrough): pretend like this is the show and this is your only chance.
So even though he wanted to look and be a bit silly, I rode. every. step. And while it made me tired, he responded beautifully. On the second or third lap, the poodle came out, and when Willig didn't react, he started barking! And nothing from Willig! Just an ear flick. Because I was riding every single one of those steps.
He had a period where he tensed up his shoulders and got ready to bolt (when we changed directions) but I could feel it coming (because I was paying such careful attention) and so we skipped the jump for a few laps, but then he was like "oh, ok, we're not doing that today?"
So instead of dawdling around out there for 40 minutes, trying to work up the nerve to head towards that end, Shannon just sent us straight out there and created yet another breakthrough moment.
Now, Willig is Willig, but this was huge for me and how I'm thinking about things. I'm still very much a passenger-rider, and I need to become the driver-rider.
But wow. I can do it! I just need to keep changing those old bad habits.

Great canter!

We've been moving, so not only have I been exhausted and not riding much, but my back has gotten every muscle in it sore. So I wasn't expecting much from my dressage lesson this week, although maybe that's the secret to a great ride.
Willig has been really great each time I've ridden him - he's just so grateful I showed up, groomed him, and he got 30 minutes of exercise, and he started the lesson out the same - low level hijink at the scary end.
We worked on leg yield, and when it was dragging a bit, shoulder in using the wall, which improved it quite a bit, and then turning down the center line, leg yield, then switching to shoulder in.
Then we did some travers (?) which is almost the same as shoulder in, except his neck bends the "other" direction. Tiny difference, but feels hugely different to ask for and maintain (just because it's new).
Willig had just a couple of short circuit moments, and Mike had us ride small circles at the trot.
He also pointed out the same thing as Shannon - why don't I use my whip? He watched me ask for an aid, Willig would hear me, and decide not to do it, and then I wouldn't whip him. Over and over and over again. But when Mike said "whip him" and I'd give him a smack, he'd go right back to obedient, quick, responsive Willig. So I'm still lacking in the assertive department, which is just soooo weird since I'm not really a very passive person (I don't think).
Then we did some canter work, and Willig did this just spectacular, mind blowing canter that was not on the forehand, not rushed, even tempo, just amazing. Mike was like "wow - what have you been doing?" and I was like "well, not riding and my back hurts - exactly the wrong things!"
I thought it was a fluke, but he did it again, and then again the other direction (although not as well, I think he was getting tired).
So the take aways were:
Work a bit on the travers - the feeling of his hind leg crossing underneath him - ride it off a circle and make a circle, and feel where that outside hind leg is.
Keep working on the canter.
Work on sitting trot without stirrups to continue to improve that.
Work on quick, consistent, obedient, responsive aids. A smack with the whip if he knows what I'm asking for and doesn't do it.
There was a LOT more - it was another chock full of lessons lesson, but I couldn't get to the computer for a couple days, and it was also so much cool, new stuff that it made sense while I was riding it, but I was thinking at the time "I'm never going to remember all this!"
It was a great lesson. Way to go Willig!
And he was good for J jumping him this week (outside)! and the hives are almost gone again. Mystery hives.

Super satisfying lesson!

I told Shannon I was ready to take it up a notch from our last lesson (ground poles) and suggested some of the raised poles (i.e. 2" off the ground).
We started out on warm up, and Shannon, after patiently repeating herself about a hundred times, finally got through to me on a very, very important point: HANDS STAY STILL.
So one of the life habits that needs to be corrected is that I steer with the reins, and with the inside one when I'm turning to the inside. We touched on this many, many lessons ago, but I've had so many other things to work on that we haven't gotten back to it.
So Willig was being a bit of a goof (raising his head in the air, moving his shoulder to the inside) going past the scary end, so Shannon said "keep your contact steady, your hands still, and move him with your inside leg into your outside rein to keep him from running in". Sound simple enough, but when he'd raise his head, I'd squeeze (and cross over!) with the inside hand, and then my hands would go uneven and then his head would raise higher.
So finally, she told me to think that my hands were side reins, and they DON'T MOVE, and to ride him with my leg, and I thought "Shannon is full of it, but just to prove she's wrong, and because the way I've been doing it for the past 3 years isn't working, I'll just show her that if I do it her way, he bolts".
And you can see this coming ... I did it her way, and lo and behold, his head stayed in frame, he didn't bulge, and we just went smooth as could be past the scary end.
And it wasn't a one time freak coincidence. When I'm not wiggling all around with my hands, he doesn't have to squirm all around with his head.
Now, that would have been enough for me to call the whole month a roaring success, but noooo ... Shannon had to push us a bit.
So she set up a little cross rail with two ground poles, and we jumped it from the trot - with the door open! eek! - and then at a canter and then trotting from the other side, and then cantering from the other side. And Shannon had to remind me to keep my heels down and to come in defensively (butt in the saddle, not perched forward on the saddle) and to let him jump, not stand up in the stirrups, and the first couple times I had to cluck and ride him my teeny tiny wimpy way forward, but then he was like "ho-hum". He hasn't jumped in probably a month, and that's his response: "ho-hum".
So she turned it to a vertical: "ho-hum".
Then she set up a regular standard that had a long straight away back towards the barn (you came off a circle, but then he had lots of room to bolt or buck), and then raised it and raised it and raised it. He came towards that a little more forward than the "short-side" fence, but not a moment of hesitation - he jumped a bit long, a bit short, and a bit just right (not in that order) and each time after the fence, while I got myself back together, Shannon moved it up another hole.
She said that it's me who's getting nervous, as I come around the circle and see it's higher, I'm the one who's tensing up and holding him back, and that I have to forget that he used to bolt and buck, and ride him like he's going to be good, but prepared for if he's not.
It was great. I was just all smiles afterwards.
So everything is coming together. I'll see how the next lesson goes, but maybe we can put a couple derbies back on the calendar. And - note to self - ask Shannon for jumping homework after that lesson.
And it is - all this stuff ties together - I don't want to overthink it, but maybe he's nervous because I rode him poorly for the couple years before I got to Mike and Shannon, and so maybe now we can correct that (and I'll become a better rider!).

My new goal: collection

Today was windy, and I was gone for an extended weekend, and although J rode Willig for me every other day, I only got to ride him Wednesday night before my lesson. And it was a busy evening in the arena, which threw us off a bit.
So I was a little anxious that it would be a lesson where we regressed again, but it ended up being one that was just the right amount of "stretch" into new territory, while feeling progress in the stuff we've been working on.
We began with the failure to bend to the left, and Mike pointed out that when I am asking for that bend, I tend to move my hand up and over (the dreaded crossing of the neck) instead of down and out (towards my knee). Also, I tend to pull with my right hand whenever I pull with my left (which I don't think happens the other way), so poor Willig has essentially been asked to go even more to the right when I'm trying to bend him to the left. Although this is quite obviously an ingrained habit, as soon as Mike pointed it out and I corrected it, the left bend problem pretty much went away (although I do need to remind myself to also use my leg).
We could have stopped right there and I would have been satisfied with the leap in progress, but no, that was just the first 5 minutes.
Then we worked on going past the scary side using shoulder-in. This also worked amazingly well (when I remembered to do inside hand down towards my knee instead of up over his neck) and especially when I remembered to use my inside leg to push him. It also helps, tremendously in a way I am trying to look at optimistically, that J was riding him inside because of the weather, because she doesn't put up with his bullshit at the far end, and just rides him past it like it's no big deal. So he was kind of a little bit over it until he remembered it was me, his timid mom, and was like "oh! Maybe I should be nervous again!" and then didn't get the firm, reliable corrections that J presumably gives without even thinking about it. (The optimistic side of me is that maybe one day, like breathing, I'll also give those corrections. The negative (and more dominant) side of me thinks, "If I haven't figured that out yet, I might as well get a sweet 15 hand Morgan and just putter around.")
Then Mike worked us through the movements in each of the 1 tests, because the dressage arena was set up. Note to self: I have not been using the inside row of lights as strictly as I should, because the big dressage arena feels small and cramped compared to what I've been doing on my own.
We worked on the center line a bit (straightness) which comes more through impulsion. Another eureka moment. He starts zigging and zagging when we're going slow. Although Mike also says to go ahead and slow down and walk a couple steps then stop with his nose on X. Don't wait and screech to a halt and skid past X.
We did some of the 10 meter half circles, practicing getting straight on the center line and then doing the next 10 meter half circle, to avoid making two angled lines instead of a half circle.
Also, we can improve our stretchy circle with more down for now, and then later add in more down and more impulsion.
Then we did some leg yield, which improves considerably when a) I work on the long side first, which is harder, as a warm up, which makes leg yield "easy", and b) when I, at the quarter line, check in on my outside rein/outside hand and make sure I'm maintaining the connection and not dropping it. When I don't check in, and I'm looking for the next movement, I drop that connection and his shoulder bulges out. Which is what feels like his hindquarters trailing, but is really a shoulder bulging.
Then we did the lengthening canter and the hard Test 1-2 down transition, where you rocket towards M and then are going back to working around the corner to C. This is not a news flash, but for an eventer, I'm a wimp and I don't really let him do his full lengthening potential. The other common error is to let him go too much on the forehand; it should be a "jumping" lenghthening feeling each stride.
We worked on not breaking to trot when you go back to working canter by lengthening, then turning off the rail and making a circle that progressively gets smaller (the same "horsey sit ups" that I have been doing the last few lessons that have strengthened his butt but still make both of us sweat) and then canter off in working canter. Or what I think of as working canter. And this is our beginning of collection: I lean back, and think "lift lift lift" with each canter stride on the little circle, and when he's tired, have to ask him (with voice, leg, and whip) to keep doing it. He got pretty tired towards the end of the lesson.
Mike says that by the end of the season, we'll be able to go back to working right at M, but that it's normal for me, and everyone else riding 1st level, to have to start slowing down a bit before M and use that M-C space to make the movement for now.
And finally, we worked on the counter canter loop, thank goodness, because I had been doing it as a leg yield! It is really a "V". Canter from K to X (diagonal line) then from X to H (another diagonal line) without changing leads. I was bending him in the neck like it was a leg yield from K to X and then switching the bend in his neck to ride X to H. Bad Martha!
This was right at the end of our lesson, so I think I'll want a little more follow up to make sure I am understanding that movement.
All in all, a very satisfying lesson, with plenty to work on, plenty of improvement, and an amazing amount of information that I never, ever would have picked up on my own for this year's showing in dressage.
And a VERY well-behaved Willig who, for the most part, ignored the wind. He is a bit easier to ride when he's on the verge of too peppy - both because he's got the lift and impulsion from his own peppiness, but also because I ride every single second because I'm waiting for the explosion, instead of getting "lazy" (I never feel lazy on Willig, but sometimes I might be a micromillimeter more relaxed).

Morning at the barn

I have oodles and oodles of stress right now, and was rushing to the barn for a morning lesson, and stressed about the change in my routine and the oodles of work waiting for me as soon as the lesson was done.
And when I pulled up, this is what I saw and then everything seemed a little bit more manageable.
(It helped that then, despite the wind, I had a great lesson. But that's for the next post.)