Pema Chodron and the C student

Pema Chodron is the only buddhist I've ever been able to read (or listen to, in a book on tape in the car) and really understand what she's saying. She claims, in one lecture, it's because she's a C student and because she had to work so hard at things that came naturally to other people studying buddhism, it helps her explain things now. Personally, I think it's probably more because she used to be a kindergarten teacher and thus, can explain it at the lowest common denominator. Regardless, it's what I was thinking of today when I had a total meltdown and just lost my marbles because of my continued inability to turn right at the canter. I can use three of the walls, but the one corner that needs actual steering, I can't do it, we just drift down the long side of the arena. This post is merely to say that I can't turn right in the hopes that one day, I'll look back and be glad I'm past this phase, and that it really didn't take as long as it feels like it is going to. The magic has something to do with NOT lifting my left hand, but I have no idea what it is that's wrong since I can do it in the walk and the trot and I try to mimic all of the feelings exactly.

A couple things are better; some perpetual issues

Today was kind of a discouraging lesson because even though I'm all fired up and looking forward to this year's show season, I'm still a passive rider. It's like no matter how many tools are in my tool belt, until Shannon tells me what to do, I don't think or try to do anything myself. It's infuriating. And I'll focus on one thing, and it's just random luck when I happen to be focusing on the thing that needs to be focused on. We jumped today, and the goods part were Shannon raised the jumps a bit and it didn't faze me at all, my lower leg feels pretty good and steady underneath me, and riding up in my half seat with my hands pushed into his neck feels really comfortable now compared to how it felt all new and different last year. The bad news? I still ride passive and quiet to the fence, can't correct an error when it starts, and my right hand is still a loony tune. Shannon had me ride in the warm up with my right hand pressed into his mane, forward up his neck, and the left hand pressed down near the martingale strap. This feels crazy, but she said it's to reset the feeling where "correct" is. We had two additions that proved to be more difficult than they should have, plus two run-outs that I completely failed to correct. First, we rode a barrel on its side, with wings, so there was a tiny narrow part to jump over. We did this late last summer just fine, so I approached it focusing on the prior instruction - eyes up and forward, instead of looking down at what we were jumping. So even though I felt the run-out coming from way far away, I did NOTHING to stop it. No kicking, no growling, no smack with the whip. We just ran out, ran past it, and then finally wound down to a halt. So then the next five times, I tried to fix it, but instead of kicking and sitting up, I'd see saw with my hands, especially my right hand, making him bulge out through the left shoulder, and we'd jump it at a wonky angle. I had to clamp the right hand into his neck, and then focus on riding assertively with my legs to make it work. Then our next hard fence was a diagonal line - straight over the wall and then stay on a line so we jumped a barrel vertical at an angle. And for this one, Charlie kept charging in between the two. So for this one, I had to think "half halt" to re-balance around the corner to the fence, before the fence, as soon as we jumped, and then I'd half halt again a couple strides in, and then we could fit in the stride and jump the line, but he charged a bit after the last half halt. Shannon said this was because he was bored once he knew what the exercise was. I looked back at the lessons from a year ago to see what we were working on then, and sadly, it was my goofy right hand. I think one of the obstacles is that I do the one jump lesson a week, and don't jump in between, so I really only work on this during the lesson. Originally, what I wanted to do was have Shannon ride once a week to keep him tuned up, jump twice a week (once in a lesson), give him a day off, a day of trail riding/conditioning, and then two days of dressage.

Humble pie eating contest

We are racing out the door to White Pass, so this is a very brief synopsis of my lesson - which is fine because it's not the sort I could pleasantly dwell on. I'm going to tell myself that breakthroughs to the next level don't happen until you're really struggling, although I'm not sure that's true, but I WAS struggling today. We went back a few lessons to leg yielding. To one direction (the right) it's a cakewalk. The other way (left), I get myself all tangled up, we start going sideways and eventually just halt. There's a lot going wrong. My right hand lifts up and then opens - my right leg squeezes up to the saddle pad, my left hand starts pulling, and my legs are kicking inconsistently. We had to break it down into a walk, then with Shannon walking alongside me with each specific instruction, and finally, with her riding and me watching. First - I need to give the leg aid when his hind leg is lifting. So if we're going right, it is when his left hind leg lifts, which is when my right hip starts to move forward. My leg sputters. Second - My leg aid isn't correct. I either twist my toe out to dig my heel in, or lift my heel up to squeeze way up high next to the saddle pad. This was easiest to see standing on the ground watching Shannon give the aid. She squeezes from the lower leg but doesn't really use her heel at all. This part, oddly, was absolutely the hardest for me to wrap my tiny brain around. Third - I get frustrated and then start spazzing out with my hands and legs. Fourth - So Charlie stops listening because it's information overload, and then, on the rare occasion when I get it right, he doesn't respond, so I don't realize whether or not I've gotten it right. (Until Shannon gets on, gets him responsive, and then I get on again.) I'm having a low moment where I feel like there's no way I should be competing or even wasting instructor's time, and then I repeat to myself that this is just the next layer of refinement, and it feels overwhelming because it's all so new, but just like struggling to keep my leg from swinging two years ago is now just habit, one day this will be too and I'll be working on something even more refined and feeling just as frustrated about how I'm the worst rider in the world. In other words, I'm trying to put a positive spin on this (It's progress!) instead of a negative (I suck!).

Sluggish reaction time

Charlie got the beginning of the week off for some epsom soaking, but an abscess never popped out. On Thursday he was a delight to ride - frisky so I didn't need any leg, but happy to be back to work - Friday he was a poop for Shannon. We jumped outside today, taking advantage of the rare February clear, dry day. Charlie was a champ, except for one very embarrassing run out, although I'm not even sure you could call it that since it started so incredibly far away. A branch fell in the arena, and sometimes Charlie spooks at it and sometimes he doesn't. We hadn't ridden past it until we were heading for the fence today, and so he saw it and zeroed in on it, and although I could feel it coming from what felt like a million miles away, I couldn't figure out how to prevent the spook. So he had lots and lots of time to decide what he was going to do while I sat there and did nothing. Then, once he started to react, I did exactly the wrong thing (turned him in the direction he was already going) and then when I caught myself and remembered I was supposed to use the opposite hand, I made us go the other wrong way. Shannon's instructions were, no matter what - keep him going towards the fence. Even if you have to stop and then hop over it from a standstill. After that initial reaction, though, the rest of the lesson was a cakewalk. We did the skinny wall to a vertical with barrels under it (side note: When Shannon looks like she is playing Donkey Kong and rolling a barrel, Charlie keeps a careful eye on her), with a right hand turn to an oxer that Shannon raised a hole from the last lesson, so Charlie made himself nice and round over it. I noticed I prefer jumping because I like riding in my half seat with my hands pressed into the side of his neck. Everything is easier when my hands are up there out of the way. I also got one fence where I got the "extra" stride in instead of launching (last year's lessons stuck with me!) and another where I launched my hands forward, which is something I noticed at the end of last year that I started to do.

Trail riding homework & Frisky Charlie

For today's jump lesson, Charlie started out frisky and stayed consistently frisky. This was good because I got an opportunity to watch how Shannon would handle it, which is much more firm (and quick) than me. I always appreciate it when I'm in a lesson for something new getting introduced that I don't have the tools to know how to react. On the ground, I tend to kind of casually walk in front of Charlie, instead of next to his shoulder with a person's width space between me and his shoulder. If he is trying to hop around and get in her personal space, she makes him halt and, if needed, shows him the whip so he's more respectful. We started with some work on a circle, and he was nice and energetic, but he was so energetic she had me do two gallop laps each direction. I was really hesitant to do it - I've lost my desire to go fast - but once we got going and I trusted Charlie, it was actually fun and he couldn't hop one way or the other while he was focused on going forward. Then we jumped, two fences in a half circle to a half figure 8, which Shannon gradually raised to 2'8". The big lesson from this - for today with a frisky Charlie - was to work on my hands pressed into his neck. Especially turning on the right lead canter, to press my right hand up his neck, left hand pulled back to the breastplate, and clamp them down, and then try to bend him to the left (which, when I feel is wildly to the left, is about straight) - and to do that with my hands pressed into his neck means I squeeze the left rein like a sponge and use my left leg. The first few fences, Charlie was very enthusiastic, and as we'd come to them, the last few strides he'd kind of lunge forward, and blow past my half halts with my seat (especially once I had my hands clamped down). But after he got over his enthusiasm, he went back to his normal jumping. Shannon suggested that I try the exaggerated hand position for a while just to reset my brain. She also gave me homework - riding once a week on the trail, with the reins in one hand and that hand being still and quiet. She said it will be good for me to trick my hands into not always fidgeting, good for Charlie to work on his 5th leg, and good for Charlie mentally to have a break from me overthinking and overworking everything.

Our first flying change! (sort of)

Today we started with some leg yields, where I immediately got all wonky and would pull my right hand back to try to straighten Charlie to the left. While this was infuriating (after the 5th time in a row I did it while I swear (I swear, Shannon!) I was telling my body to do the opposite), it did lead to a new way to think about my hands. Shannon noticed whenever I try to do anything that involves my left hand, It likes to cross over Charlie's neck. (And I say "It" on purpose like It has a mind of Its own.) So she came up with some instructions for It to try to help It not just cross over - either squeezing like a sponge, pulling back, or (at the end of the lesson) remembering to use my back and keep both hands together and lean back just a tiny bit - something she taught me probably 6 months ago that I have since forgotten to do. Actually, before that we worked on 10 meter circles at the trot, then when I'd get back to the rail, at the canter, where I exhibited my idiot inability to turn right at the canter, with my right hand flinging out into space and my left hand flailing over the neck. Then we did some counter canter and bending Charlie to the inside and outside while going along the rail. All of this, I'm also trying to think about kicking my lower leg forward with my heels down and toes pointed in. Then we got on a smallish circle on the left lead, came around counterclockwise to noon, and then pointed straight at 6 (the rail) and then I'd turn his neck to the right, and ask for right lead canter. It took a few tries, and then Charlie realized what I was trying to ask him for, and tried to do it, but I'd panic and get him twisted, so he only switched his front end. But it was this BIG jump up in the air when he was switching. And he is sooooo sweet that he tried so hard to figure out what the hell I was asking him to do flailing around up there and then tried to do it. AND - as a side effect, then when I went the wrong way once, then Shannon noticed if I try bending Charlie to the outside, I can make a really small circle going to the right. So it has something to do with my right hand or shoulders I think, which means focus on "hands backward" from what they want to do - push my right hand forward and pull my left hand back and then things stay even and he can do a regular old right hand circle.

I am not an ambi-turner

I am not sure what is going on, but I've started having a lot of trouble turning to the right. We worked on this last lesson with a lot of different exercises. First, Shannon made a circle and I rode around it to the left, trying to be aware of what every part of my body was doing. Then I rode around it to the right, trying to feel what was different. As best I can tell, I twist my upper body to the right (to the inside), and then I either lift my lift hip (so my butt isn't touching as solidly as on the right) or I bear down on the right which forces the left up (can't tell which), and then open my right hand out wide. I have no idea why, and have very little control to squish it back all into place like it does when going to the left. We tried bridging the reins, and riding with them bridged and my hands pressed into his neck to try to keep the right hand from opening, which worked, but felt horribly awkward. I'm a few days late in posting this - the rest of the lesson was great but this was the focus area. It's weird - at the start of last year (not quite a year ago), we noticed how Charlie was always bent to the right, but then I could still turn right. In the course of improving everything else, somehow it has brought this issue to the forefront. We also worked on kicking my legs forward. I lift my heel for the aids, and I'm trying to keep my legs off of him except for the aid, and then to do it like a squeezing pincher instead of squeezing back onto his side. This, like all other body position changes, feels weird, like I'm sitting in a rocking chair, but then looks correct in the mirror instead of my way. The great news is that the things we've been working on the last few months, instead of just doing what Shannon says, I can actually feel it! So when Charlie is a bit uneven in the contact or is hanging on the reins, now I can feel he is doing it and know the correction!!!

First jump lesson post-vertigo

I finally jumped again! I rode again with upside down hands, which helps tremendously, and Charlie provided one perfectly timed learning opportunity by spooking at a cone, so Shannon had us ride past it until we got it right (opposite leg, bent away from spooky object). Today's challenge was making sure even with upside down hands that my right hand didn't pull further back than the left, and then making right turns. I want to cross my left hand over his neck, so I have to press my left hand into his neck and make sure I really think "wheelbarrow" hands so I turn from the outside. We just did a little vertical with ground poles and then a little oxer and then the oxer to the ground poles. I was a little off on the landing - kind of thunking down too hard and early on Charlie's back - but it went far better than I expected it to, so I think it's just one more week of "rehab" and then we can go back to gearing up for this year. And of course, I didn't escape needing to drop my weight into my heels and keep my legs from their constant staccato, but the good news is that a lot of the things Shannon described to me when she rode when I couldn't (a bit heavy on the hands, uneven weight in the hands) I can feel now - maybe a bit belatedly, but at least I can feel it - and I know how to correct it! I feel the new habits starting to click in! I'm so excited! We are definitely going to have to work on those right turns though - I wonder if that's where I lose it in show jumping in the past, and I just wasn't tuned in enough to what was going on to realize why. And I haven't mentioned it in a while, but I loooovveeee Charlie. He's the best horse ever.

Upside down hands

Today Charlie rode like a champ, and I could finally canter again without tilting around like a scarecrow, but the real gem was when Shannon took away my whip and made me ride with my hands upside down on the reins. I quit reefing on Charlie's mouth, and then he was free to move like he does when Shannon rides him. It was pretty remarkable to feel what an impact my hands are having, especially because I really can't feel them doing it. It helps that Shannon has done most of the work on him this week with me not being able to ride much, and so my new long-term goal is to get as good as Shannon. He was a real delight - we even caught a break in the rain and got to ride in the outdoor arena.

Peeling the onion

It's been a frustrating month and a half. I had a big work deadline which kept me away from the barn for most of a month, and just a few days after that ended, I got vertigo - the horsewoman's curse - which hasn't quite resolved yet. I walked on Charlie for the first time yesterday, and today I had a lesson with Shannon to try trotting and see how it went. It felt like I looked the first time I rode - hands in front of me and high like a waterskier - standing up in the stirrups - weaving around in the saddle like a drunk when I tried to change directions.
The silver lining is I have no excuse but to work on the minutiae until the vertigo is resolved - keeping my hands even, holding my lower leg off Charlie's side unless I am asking for an aid, asking once and expecting him to maintain it until I ask him for something else, working on a nice square halt, not Charlie's haunches going out to the right, no poll dropping, and flexion - Charlie is stiff through his neck, especially to the right, and I'm pretty confident this is because I reel on his poor right cheek like I'm trying to pull in a whale.
However, in a "d'oh" moment, I whined to Shannon that when I put my elbows on my hips to make sure my hands are even, every time I look down, my right hand is further back. First, my slow brain thought my right arm was short, but then when I got off, and I was showing Shannon from the ground, she pointed out that one of my hips is tilted back, and so I should probably just stop using elbows on hips as the reference point.
The other silver lining was two days ago and today I watched Shannon ride and she described what she was doing while she was doing it (and why), and it was really helpful to be able to see from the ground what doing it right looks like, and hearing what she was doing when I couldn't see it. Charlie moves so nice for her, and I still feel like he got the short end of the stick between the two of us.

Looking forward and back

The progress I've made over the last year:
1. I don't ride with my hands - as much.
2. I don't pinch with my knees - all the time.
3. My legs aren't crazy random egg beaters always flapping.
4. I can sit the trot - when it's slow and easy.
5. I can go to a beginner novice show and kick some booty.

My goals for next year:
1. Get my right hand even and make it stop pulling and get my left hand closed.
2. Master impulsion - or at least improve my leg aids (this goal has many subparts).
3. Improve use of my core and back as the aid, instead of my hands.
4. Work on 2nd level dressage.
5. Show novice eventing and stay in the ribbons.

Recalibration

I had a nice, steady lesson on Charlie today. He gave me just enough to work on to not be cocky (not that I have any reason to be after riding 3 times in the last month) but we made satisfying progress and I felt like I got it. Shannon's tip for when I'm riding by myself is to work on bending both ways and then going straight. She said Charlie was overbent to the left and stiff to the right. We worked on the proper response to the spooking (after she rode him this week, it's getting him in front of my leg and then letting him go up and down instead of faster forward or sideways) and then counter canter, which feels so wonky around the corners. News flash - even when counter cantering, they should bend in the "proper" direction (towards the inside). It was a great lesson, satisying on multiple levels, but I'm just too pooped from my month of work to do it justice describing it. I'm written out.

Sir Spooksalot

Charlie, with his generous heart, today gave me lots of time to work on how to ride him when he's being a little squirrely about rain and wind and boogeymen. In addition to the same old (legs under me, not behind me; left hand closed and back; right hand not gripping with death grip), what we worked on was doing the opposite of what I want to do - making him feel confident in me. I used inside leg (away from the spooky thing), and inside hand to pat, and then outside leg and hand to stay firm. And if the wind was particularly rattling, I did a bit of shoulder-in and planned ahead. In theory. In practice, I pretty much flunked every single time past, but at least we figured out what I do wrong (hit with whip and clench hands) and so now I know what to practice doing right. As we warmed up, my feet are now creeping back behind me, so I need to feel like they're in front of me like a chair. And my left hand is a wimp and my right hand is a lunatic control freak. It is very, very, very hard to get the left hand to stay firm and in place while softening with the right hand. Almost impossibly hard. So that needs a lot of practice time.

3'8" & a 4' (spread) oxer

The primary lesson from the flat from this week's John lesson was to really pull Charlie together - not to let him schlep around on the forehand. I can do this with John (or anyone) correcting me from the ground, but I'm still struggling with identifying the right level on my own. Mostly, it is pushing him forward so he has impulsion, then "channeling" it with "side-rein" hands and using my core for half-halts. I also need to work more on heels down and forward (not swinging behind me), sitting up tall, and Charlie's bend to the inside. Over fences, we started with this little vertical, and both Charlie and I (but particularly me) jumped it like we'd never jumped anything before. But as John gradually raised it, Charlie got rounder and bouncier as we came to it. I like how John gradually changes things, so I can keep working on what I'm trying to do (I am soooo slow) but don't have to think about a new fence in a new location. So I could work on coming around the first corner (the critical time period), looking at the fence, sitting up, keeping my leg on, keeping the rhythm consistent, and then a little half halt with leg on for a SPRING over the fence. Charlie really rounds up and gets interested when the fence gets taller or wider, which means he jumps easier and better and I have less to do. John said that when Shannon switched to Training from Novice that's when Charlie really started to shine, so hopefully I can pull my act together and not make him stay at Novice too long. After we got the vertical all the way up to 3'8" (from a trot) and Charlie had a couple really nice round fences, then we switched to an oxer. Oxers are easier to canter (first, at least) because they are wider, and there's more impulsion coming in from the canter. For this one, we worked on the same thing - it wasn't that high, but John gradually made it wider and wider (with a pole laid diaganolly across it). So again, I worked on a nice, bouncy, even canter, sitting up around the corner and half-halting, keeping my eye up, and then kicking at the fence. Charlie was a total rock star over this one. His ears picked up and when the fence got wide, I had to quit looking at it because it was so huge, but Charlie just ROCKED it. The take away was that when I could keep all the "tips" in my head, and when Charlie perked up, I could ride pretty easy to the fence and to the spot, and it felt really smooth. So that felt great. What still needs work is I can't consistently "see ahead" what's going to go wrong in time to fix it. I really like the John lessons. At the end, I always look at the fences with awe, but he builds them up so gradually that each lesson builds confidence without being overwhelming.

Pitiful helpless left hand

We worked more on the hard circle today - going to the right, spiraling in - and were able to further identify the problem. While I can put my left hand up the neck no problem, when I try to put my right hand up, my left hand follows it. And if I try to hold it still, my whole body bends to try to follow it. We did a few other exercises where all I could feel was that terrible limp left hand not doing its job, like riding in a straight line in the canter off the rail, and we'd just drift, drift, drift to the left because my left hand couldn't "block the water" like the Centered Riding analogy has for the hose. Shannon made me first try to bend each way (couldn't bend to the left) and then ride a leg yield (?) in to the right off the left leg, which forced my left hand to clamp down and my left leg to do its job. It was a very good, but very frustrating lesson. When we peeled that layer off the onion to "polish" I had no idea how difficult this next level was going to be. I can't wait until future me is looking back and reading this and being relieved that the phase was over with. In other words, keep the faith present Martha.

Sinister left hand!

My left hand ran amok today. After a brief warm up and review of some of the position suggestions I had from Major Beale and John, we started working on the circle that spirals in and spirals out. This was ok going to the left, but when we tried going to the right (clockwise), things fell apart. It took a while to figure out where the source of the problem was (for me), but it ended up being my left hand, which refused to obey me. We had to go way, way down - to a halt - and then very slowly and deliberately work our way back up to the spiral circle in and out at the trot. It was infuriating that I couldn't get my hand to obey me, and that it threw off the whole exercise so dramatically. It was also good to get it isolated - and fixed - so that I can work on that on my own. The list of things I am working on, though, has gone from "proficient but polishing" to "everything" and so I am wrestling a bit with overthinking every single thing and not being able to keep them all in my head. Charlie was moving nice (once we got going) and my seat at the canter felt really improved, but that hand! Good lord!

Challenged by simplicity

Today's weather was sunshine with intermittent holy fury of god rainstorms. We tacked up in the rainstorm. Got inside and watched the rider before us finishing in sunshine. Started riding in rainstorm. Had to strain to hear John in rainstorm. Then, once tired and wanting excuse of couldn't hear, sunshine. Then cooled off in rainstorm. You get the drift. Now that fall is upon us, I had my first inside John lesson. He had a very simple set-up - a single white vertical and then a 2 stride combination, vertical to vertical, but with flowers and colorful rails. First he gave me some pointers on the same posture issues that I've been working on with Shannon and that Major Beale identified. For my clamped right knee, which he says comes from too tight quad, open the knee. I was shocked, and then looked at my left knee and saw it looked the same. Rolling the knee open means the quad can't overpower the rest of my leg, and it, somewhat unexpectedly, puts the front of my calf on Charlie as my aid instead of the back. Then for the arched back, he said for dressage, think of something poking a finger right in between your shoulder blades, and you want to grab it with your shoulder blades. For the lower back, think about a flat palm against your shoulder blades and pushing into it, and also lengthening the rib cage up - like making more space between your hip and the bottom of your rib cage, but also elevating the whole rib cage, like a balloon is tied to it. Then, after you get used to those feelings, you undo them just a bit - so your knee doesn't really fly out a mile above the saddle. We did a bit of warm up, and I had a hard time keeping Charlie together instead of strung out. I think we were both tired from the clinic. Then we jumped the white fence as a cross rail, vertical, bigger vertical, much bigger vertical. My main instruction was to sit up around the corner, half halt at the corner, and then, infuriatingly, every single time I went to the left (we were riding a clockwise circle) when I landed. John put down a rail which helped a bit. I needed to use my left hand and my right leg - Charlie was coming in crooked (the same crooked from Major Beale's clinic, his haunches in, so bulging out through his left shoulder - off my right leg in other words), and I'd try to straighten him which would push us further left (instead of pushing with my left leg to straighten him into the center of the fence, I'd push with my right and get us even further towards the standard). This tiny little simple thing eluded me, and the elusiveness chased me to the next exercise on the combination. Here, we did it both directions, and for the life of me, I could not ride the damn thing straight, even though it was only two strides in between. Eventually, John had me halt afterwards, side pass to the right (off the left leg) and then turn left and go again. Shannon also said we tended to chip the first fence, so even though I was counting, I was coming in funny. John pointed out that I might be able to scoot through a double, but a triple, as I drift to the left each fence, is going to make us off on the strides and really hard for Charlie to bunch up and go over it. So the key take-away for this week's triple combination? STRAIGHTNESS! I was feeling sorry for myself and how pitiful a rider I was, but then I looked at the dressage pyramid and was pleased to see that straightness at least was not the very bottom of the pyramid. Charlie jumps like a champ though. The fences weren't really that big (I checked when we walked past cooling off - they were just BN), but he was really rounding up over them.

2nd day of Major Beale clinic

One freak change led to fortuitous happenstance at today's clinic. Due to some scheduling changes, we brought my dressage saddle for Charlie. Even though things shifted again and I didn't need it, I was too lazy to take it off, so I started my ride in it. Major Beale said that it helped my seat tremendously, and from now on, to ride Charlie in that saddle. So hats off to fortune! Today's ride made me feel a little less like a waste of his time and a lot more like the cherry on the slice of humble pie. First, and the most glaring follow up from yesterday, was he took my whip and set it on the saddle behind my butt (so it ran up my back and ended at my helmet). Then he had me put my hand behind my back to feel how big the gap was between my back and my whip. Then he had me try to suck my back into the whip - which was close to impossible for me to do without rounding my shoulders. When I finally got it right, it felt like I was hunched forward in my shoulders, even though actual hunched forward is a very different feeling. So I am going to tackle that all winter - with the mirrors in our arena, and at work and home with one of those inflatable balls and mirrors. I am pretty sure what I am missing is "stacking the blocks". Next, we worked again on straightness. The big revelation here is that the source of the problem is I can't feel straight - I can't feel the back end of the horse, whether it's crooked or straight or which way (or which hind foot is stepping underneath). So this is another one Shannon is going to work with me on over the winter. Another instruction was to watch my leg - it likes to creep backwards, and I need to give the aid from the girth. Major Beale suggested thinking of my bringing my seat forward over my leg, instead of my leg backward under my seat. Then we did a whole series of different exercises from yesterday, which sadly I am not going to do justice to. The main take away was how good Charlie felt, and the consistent things I needed to do were: keep my hands the soft "wall" that stopped the forward energy and let it "poof" up - but the "poof" comes from using my core as the real brake, not my hands pulling backwards; continuing to work on knees and toes pointed forward (toes feels pigeon toed) and the front of my leg giving the aid and the rest of the time staying off his side; steering Charlie like a wheelbarrow, with both hands making a tunnel for him; using the left leg as a block - to stop him from bulging out from the strong right leg; in the canter, again using my stomach to root my seat into the saddle - when this plugs in it feels so solid and wonderful. We worked on shoulder-in down the long side, then lengthening circles or halt transitions; and leg yields down the long side facing the wall keeping the momentum going and not slowing down. Major Beale explained what I call the poof as kinetic vs. potential energy. Kinetic energy is a horse moving forward. Potential energy is impulsion. I get the idea of impulsion, and I feel like I'm just the hair's breadth away from the light bulb going off so that I can make it happen on my own. Just like yesterday, it felt amazing, and Charlie was, like always, a total champ and good sport, helping me out as best he could. It was such an incredible experience and I'm so lucky to have had this opportunity.

More humble pie

I'm pretty close to as humbled as you can get. Today was my first time riding in a clinic with Major Beale, and for my overview, I told him that as I've worked closely with Shannon on Charlie this year, as we progressed, I began to realize that I was fudging the basics. As one example, Charlie is usually bent to the right. Major Beale then proceeded to turn my whole world on its ear. First, he had me walk both directions. Then I rode a circle at the trot, each direction without my inside stirrup. Then he told me that my right leg is clamped on - without the stirrup, it doesn't move, but with both stirrups, it is so dominant that I post crooked - up and to the left. So that makes Charlie's left shoulder bulge out, which makes me clamp on with my right hand, which bends him to the right, which ends up in that "C" shape to the right. So he said, innocently enough, that we'd work on correcting that. Here's my confession. I wanted him to see me ride, identify a tiny fix, and then praise me for having a wonderful natural seat despite really only having a couple years of good training from Mike and Shannon. I didn't know I wanted this until I was pouring sweat at the end of the ride. So the primary exercise we did was standing up in the stirrups, at the trot for half the arena, then a shoulder-fore or haunches-out down the other side of the arena. Then we worked without stirrups completely on the canter, on a circle, and for this one, we worked on pulling my legs away from the saddle (hard to do, even without stirrups), and then tucking my tail-bone under but not arching my back. For both of these, we also worked on asking Charlie to keep his impulsion with only the whip - no leg - because the second I'd quit thinking about my leg, it would start clamping on him again. We also worked on the inside track - I think to keep me from using the outside rail as a crutch. Every once in a while, I would pull it all together, and there would be that moment of magic like I had in the lesson with Shannon a couple lessons ago - where I felt everything fall into place, and I was completely and utterly plugged in to Charlie and felt perfectly in place. Most of the time, I felt like my body had a mind of its own and was impossible for me to control. Major Beale will say to stretch my leg long, and I would try to stretch it long, but it would pretty much blow me off. We also had very humiliating moment (for me) where he asked me how to steer, and I guessed pretty much everything under the sun BUT the reins. I can't even bear to repeat everything I guessed other than the reins. It was a brilliant lesson, and he did a great job seeing all my foibles (the humble pie for me), and those moments felt incredible, but it's just that I thought I was an ok rider, and it turns out I know close to nothing. I WANT to know this stuff, I just wish I had learned it earlier. It's also just a bit out of my grasp. I feel it when it is right, I am just not sure how to control my body to make it right. Also, my right hip and my sacrum are SORE already!

Ride every step!

Today's jump lesson at John's started like we'd been shot out of a cannon. Instead of my usual style of poking around for 30 minutes "warming up", we did our flat warm up, a cross rail at a trot, a vertical at a canter, and then moved right into an oxer with a hard left turn to a panel (I missed it the first time). From there, we did several courses, the only common element being oxers and a bendy line (oxer to vertical to vertical). What this showed was my weaknesses, and doing so many variations gave me several chances to fix them. What would usually happen would be I'd fix one, but drop another one, so while I had good fences, I don't think I ever rode an entire course without errors (error = sloppy jump on my end). For example, I'd kind of angle the oxer to vertical to vertical to make it a straight line, because I had trouble making the two bends (sitting up, half halting was key #1). When I tried to ride it bend to bend, I'd miss the strides and we'd have to chip or launch. What I needed to do was ride straight to the middle of each fence, which required me to ride very precisely and not just shoot around. But usually I'd have to not screw up on the oxer - if I did, my reactions weren't fast enough to correct in between the two. A couple of times I got it right, which felt amazing. The big lesson was to ride precisely. Second, adjust my canter - lengthen it and then half halt before the corner to the fence - then sit up tall, ride to it, and keep my hands planted so I don't mess with stuff at the last second. Like always, look ahead to the next fence, and use that outside rein (and outside leg!) to make those tight corners. I was panting the entire way through the lesson, and bright red, but afterwards, we walked the fences and they were just regular old beginner novice height, so making the course more technical really worked a number on me. Although the one line I did that Holly got to skip (thank god Shannon trained Charlie to be such a champ), had an oxer in to a 2 stride (?) to a vertical. I am pretty sure I have never in my life ridden an oxer to a vertical (it's always vertical to oxer) and it was amazing the difference it made in how I looked at the line. It was a GREAT lesson that made me wish I had more time during the week to practice so I could hopefully speed up the retraining of some of these sticky bad habits. Actually, it makes me wish I could only ride - be a working student half time for a dressage trainer and half time for a jumper. That would be pretty much the coolest life ever.