The training journal of a re-rider learning dressage
January 5, 2012 2 Comments
Derbs has tweaked an ankle, and the vet recommends a few day’s rest. I’m working on the “head down” command – giving to pressure can always use a little work – and am pursuing intensive cookie therapy. Hopefully, we’ll be back to work on Sunday!
January 3, 2012 1 Comment
Derby was clearly not thrilled after suffering the indignity of a bath.
I’ve had some time to reflect lately, as Derbs came up a bit lame after I was away for a few days. My genius vet, Dr. Nicky Wessel, of Cutting Edge Equine, is coming to see him tomorrow. Fingers crossed for a simple problem with a quick fix!
So I’ve been spending my time watching Christy make tremendous progress with her horses, reading some de Kunffy, watching videos and doing lots of cardio and ab work, to mitigate the deleterious effects of holiday cookies (a fatal weakness) and being sidelined with a nasty cold.
2010, in retrospect, was a big year for me. I emerged from my experience with Maddie a better and (ultimately) more confident horsewoman. I have found a good partner in Derby – he’s a horse I can really work with. We have tack that fits, and I feel like the pieces are starting to come together.
So what are my goals for 2012? I have a few:
Showing is definitely on the agenda. However, to get into the ring and be respectable, I need to nail down some of these goals first.
December 31, 2011 2 Comments
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 8,500 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 3 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.
December 27, 2011 2 Comments
It took some work but we got a canter with some energy. But it shouldn't take so much work.
I scampered out to the barn tonight, eager to ride. Derbs seemed to be ready to go too, abandoning his hay and standing by his stall door as I fetched his tack and set out his boots and brushes.
We started as we always do, walking, and he came onto the bit nicely and was moving easily off my seat bones. I moved him into a trot, and rode in two point practicing some of my new skills from last night while he cleared his pipes. Once we were ready to go, I asked him to move out as we were tracking left, and I loved the response I got when I closed my calves on his barrel and increased the elevation of my post. He surged forward at first asking. After a couple laps I asked for the canter and he again responded promptly, but then dropped to a trot before I asked for the downward transition. We reorganized and cantered again. This time I paid attention to my postion, keeping my hips open and swinging. This time Derby held the canter until I asked for the downward transition.
I switched direction, starting again with trot work, and paying attention to bend, as we were now going right, and I’m continuing to have some issues this direction. To try to get through this rough patch, I’m really trying to be as deliberate – and correct – as possible going right. We did some big trot/ little trot, and then I asked Derbs to move out, and got another nice response. However, when I moved into doing some serpentines, my energy started to peter out.
At that point I noticed that Christy was wrapping up her lesson, and her next one was running a bit late. I asked her if she could give me a few minutes coaching, and she said sure, since my lesson last night had been been a bit short.
We started on a 20 meter circle, and Christy started to fix our trot, insisting first on better quality. At this point, we were really lacking energy, and I’ve been struggling with maintaining forward gears when we’re doing something other than blasting down the long side.
She reminded me to hold my outside rein, get busy with my inside leg, and soften the inside rein to encourage bend, while also insisting on more, more, more forward. She had us spiral in and leg yield out. We finally put it together, and then I heard “Sit sit ask.” I did as she she commanded, and while the transition was ugly, at least I got the right lead, and we found some solid energy. We transitioned down, and did it all again.
I was pretty happy with the canter quality – with Christy’s coaching, I was able to really engage Derby’s inside hind.
It was a great ride and the fifteen minutes of torture coaching was invaluable.
December 27, 2011 Leave a comment
Learning to sit, effectively
My holiday hiatus over, I was looking forward to getting back out to the barn last night for my lesson. However, though the mind was willing, the body wasn’t. One of my knees was killing me and the motion of posting was painful. So Christy reshuffled her deck, and announced that we’d do more warm up work in two point, and then work on sitting trot.
We’re using two point to build my leg strength, so I can start carrying my weight more correctly, instead of relying solely on my stirrups. As I went around, I lightened my feet in the stirrups, taking more weight on my upper thighs. Then Christy upped the ante, asking me to take some contact and make the horse round. While in two-point.
Now, this took some doing for me. I’ve not done much in terms of influencing the horse while working in two-point.
“Think side reins,” said Christy. I closed my fingers, and steadied my hands. Derby started to pull into the contact, and rounded.
“Good. Now send him forward,” said Christy. Still in two-point, I squeezed my knees. Nothing. Determined not to cheat, I squeezed my knees again.
“This trot’s getting worse, not better!” Christy observed. “Send him forward!” After another minute of pop-eyed knee-squeezing, I asked Christy exactly how one sends a horse forward when in two-point.
“You can use your legs and your core while you’re in two point,” she said. When she said that, the first light bulb clicked on. I realized that I hadn’t been using my lower leg at all – and the go button is best activated with the calves. I tightened my core, which magically connected my body to my legs (um. duh.) and eased my knees, letting my calves drape around the horse a bit more, despite maintaining the two point position. The horse rounded, and when I closed my calves, he went forward.
“There you go!” Christy approved. So that was my first light bulb moment. From then on, I was able to ride the horse more forwardly, while maintaining some roundness, in a two point. It was definitely a first.
From there, we took a walk break. Christy had me focus on feeling the motion with my seat, paying attention to which foot was falling where. Then she had me swing my hips, telling me to swing the horse up into a trot, and then continue following the motion with my seat.
After a few rough starts, Christy noted that I was starting to curl forward, and was tensing up in an effort to stay light on the horse’s back. The result was a tooth-rattling ride that wasn’t any fun for the horse, either.
“Lean back, and point your seat bones towards the front of the saddle, ” she told me. My next try was much more productive. I was able to feel a few moments where the sitting trot felt really good and connected. Best of all, the horse was pretty happy throughout. Derby was staying fairly round – not popping his head up and going hollow. I fed him some extra rein, as my hands were still bouncing around a bit, and I wanted to focus on staying with the motion. Eventually, though, I was actually able to take and hold some contact while sitting, and Derby stretched into the contact, holding it nicely. I was stunned. While I wasn’t really moving Derby out in any semblance of a working trot, nonetheless, this was the first time I’ve ever maintained any semblance of contact and roundness while sitting the trot. One night, and two light bulb moments! Can’t wait to get out to the barn tonight!
December 16, 2011 3 Comments
Learning from Liam
I arrived at the barn early tonight, and went into the arena where Christy was riding Liam. We started talking about our plan for my lesson, given the fact that I was a bit sore and stiff (but not back enough to keep me out of the saddle! Woo!) One thing led to another, and we started talking about my issues bending. I surmised that my difficulties stem from the fact that I’m still working on developing acuity with my new position.
“Go get your helmet,” Christy said. “We’ll see.”
Okay. My new year’s resolution, which I’m starting early, is to say “Yes Ma’am” when Christy wants me to do something. I have to at least try. I put my trepidation and excuses away, and donned my helmet, put on my gloves, and took the reins on the horse that have admired for years, and who I love almost as much as I love Jag.
Liam is Christy’s exclusive territory. Her boyfriend Mark sometimes hops on and walks around on him, and on a couple occasions, Christy’s had one of her students get on, but by and large, Liam is Christy’s ride 99.99% of the time. He’s ridden by a pro, and he is finely tuned and delicately honed. Together they’re schooling things like canter half passes and tempi changes. Liam is very sensitive, and very fit. He’s a super good boy, but he’s still a little intimidating, to me, at least.
This experiment, she told me, would reveal whether or not I was giving bending aids correctly. She had me walk him in a circle, coaching me through the delicate, delicate aids to which Liam was trained to respond. She had me keep all my aids very quiet, and then once I had contact, she had me push gently with my inside seatbone. In a heartbeat, Liam bent gently around my leg. We walked on, and we maintained the bend with just the quietest contact and aids.
“No, that’s too much, that was a leg yield,” Christy noted once. I swear that I had merely raised one of my eyebrows.
“Now go for feather light contact,” she said, as we walked around holding the bend. I softened the contact, and Liam held it, staying attuned to these soft, quiet aids. We spiraled in and spiraled out, guided by just the slightest shifts in my weight.
“Wow,” I said, repeatedly. This was a whole new ball game. Riding Liam gave me a whole new perspective, both for the responsiveness that can be trained, and also, the immense control Christy has over herself when she rides.
Over the next few minutes, she had me change the bend, and then do some leg yields, shoulders in and, incredibly, haunches in and haunches out. And it was effortless. A slight push with a seatbone, brush with a calf, or shift in weight was all it took to guide Liam. through these movements.
I can’t really describe how illuminating this little exercise was.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Christy told me. “You know how to do all of this work just fine.”
I then tacked up Derbs, and warmed him up, and then Christy got on, and some important truths were revealed. Derbs wasn’t responsive – at all – to her seat. So she took the opportunity to install some buttons for me, and talk me through it. She first flexed him right and left, while standing, and he gave very nicely to the rein pressure. So that was a good start. Then she moved him off, walking, and tested his response to her seat, specifically, whether or not he moved over when she pushed a seatbone into the saddle and asked him to step over. She got nothing, so she quickly addressed Derby in terms he understood, backing up the seatbone aid with an opening rein and a spur, and then quickly graduating to an indirect rein, and the seatbone aid, and then just the seatbone. It was really interesting watching Derby respond and as she worked him, his walk got better and better.
Then I got back on, and voila, I had a new button to push. I was able to re-create Christy’s work, and move Derbs around with my seat. The visual we use is “the canter pirouette seat” – which creates a mental image (for me, at least) of sitting straight and deep, and liiiiffting the inside seatbone while channeling the haunches with an outside leg. This little mental mnemonic device devised by Christy has been really helpful in helping me visualize and then execute the correct aids.
Christy made the point to me (and it’s one she’s made before) that I shouldn’t have to work hard to get these basic movements. Derby has been training me. It’s time, she said, for me to think more about training him.
So it’s cool that I passed my pop quiz on the schoolmaster with flying colors. But it’s daunting that I need to think as much about training Derbs as I do myself. One more twist on the dressage journey path, I guess!
December 14, 2011 10 Comments
Gravity lessons, a la Wile E.
Tonight the indoor was pretty busy – we were sharing it with three other riders, none of whom were inclined to shuffle along, holding the rail. While most people keep “left to left” somewhat in mind, on nights like these, everyone needs to ride with their heads up, calling their quarterline or circle or inside or rail if there’s any shadow of a doubt. I don’t mind these kinds of rides – they challenge me in different ways, and I’m getting better at owning my ride, and getting the work done that I want to get done, even when conditions are crowded.
And tonight’s ride was pretty good. I was trying a new bit – an eggbutt snaffle of Christy’s – and was really liking it. We got some nice canter work both ways, some very good trot work (including some leg yield and shoulder in – we were feeling it) and I spent some time in two point, torturing my inner thigh muscles. Everything was going well …. until it wasn’t!
I was bringing Derbs down the quarterline, behind Christy, who was on the rail with Remy, working S/I, S/O, H/I, H/O. I was asking Derbs for a big trot, and called the quarterline, so Christy would know we were coming. As we neared -and mind you, there was plenty of room between the horses, Christy asked Remy for a haunches-in … at which point Derby became extremely concerned about preserving the integrity of his teeth.
You see, Derby and Remy are turnout buddies, and Derby – who was a stallion most of his life and is still learning the rules of herd dynamics, because he wasn’t turned out with other horses – is the low man on the totem pole. He’s an equine punching bag. His first couple months, he suffered all sorts of kicks and dings, because he simply didn’t know that when another horse turns tail, he better get out of the way.
I guess the fact that he has now internalized this golden rule of herd survival is a good thing. However, I wasn’t prepared – at all, whatsoever – for him to abruptly exit stage left upon seeing Remy’s bum pointed in his general direction.
I’m always amazed at how quickly it can happen. The speed with which these big, powerful animals can move is still beyond my comprehension. All I know is that one minute, I’m on a horse. And then the next, I’m floating, mid-air. There is no longer a horse under me. And then I hit the ground.
Tonight I landed squarely on my butt and got the wind knocked out of me. I spent a minute on my hands and knees, panting for air, and then started to assess the damage. Toes and fingers, check. Feeling in extremities, check. Vision OK, check. I know my name, check. I arched my back like a cat, and while things were sore, everything that should move did, and what shouldn’t didn’t. Check!
I dusted myself off and staggered over to Kristine, who had apprehended Derby. I marched over to the mounting block and got back on to recommence the ride. Trotted both ways, got him over his back, did some serpentines.
And here’s the best part. I felt great. At no point – and I mean NEVER – did fear and trepidation creep in. I just got back on my horse, and rode. In a strange way, this little spill is cause for celebration.
And ice packs, and Advil.
December 12, 2011 4 Comments
A nice moment. We're working a small stretch, he's staying uphill, and that inside hind is engaged.
Christy and I had an interesting moment tonight, as I was working on developing and keeping Derby really engaged on a circle. She started talking about softening my aids, specifically my spur. Huh? I wasn’t spurring and said so.
Diplomatic silence from the middle of the ring, accompanied by a raised eyebrow.
Crap.
Well, God love her for having a high enough opinion of my riding to assume that I am in full control of my extremities. Sorry to disappoint, Christy. I’m not. We stopped what we were doing and zeroed in on my leg. It turns out that I’ve been egging Derbs on with my spur almost constantly, when I was happily under the illusion that I was keeping my aids quiet and deliberate.
Um. Awesome.
Looking at the videos, I cringe. I’ve got my spurs in Derby’s side more often than not. Sure, they’re rounded, but they still don’t feel good. The last thing I want to do is make him dead to my aids, and it sure looks like I’m on my way to desensitizing him to my spur. Yikes. I’m putting the Tom Thumbs back on. Developing a steady leg capable of delivering ONLY deliberate aids is now job one.
The posting-with-too-much-weight-on-my-foot problem still persists, and it’s contributing significantly to the unsteadiness in my lower leg. It’s not reasonable for me to think that this issue would have been fixed a scant week since I started tipping my butt up into two point, letting my stirrups rattle on my feet as I hold my weight with my thighs, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.
My review of tonight’s ride did reveal a couple bright spots. For the most part, my posture has really improved. I’m keeping my hip angles open, and doing so is now coming more easily. I don’t need to constantly catch and correct myself, at least, not to the degree I did even a week ago. That’s a step forward.
This sort of moment gives me hope, He's really moving, he's uphill, I'm sitting straight and am keeping it together.
In other good news, Derbs is over the muscle soreness. He was moving out well and evenly tonight. We cantered on a circle both ways, and the quality of the canter was good – he held the leads and was stepping under himself – so clearly, the soreness is abating. Canter transitions on the circle are at the top of our homework list – they’re great work for his hind end, and require me to get our collective ducks in a row – forward, contact, bend, sit sit ask – and give me the time I still need to organize everything.
So, overall, a good night. Problems persist, but that is no surprise. There will always be something to work on!
December 12, 2011 3 Comments
The impossibly beautiful Hope & Horses calendar, featuring rescues from the Camelot auction. Order by clicking on this image.
It’s that time of year – we’re all in the holiday mood, we’re doing some extra shopping, and parties abound. At the same time, food pantries everywhere have thin inventories, and animal shelters and rescues are in dire straights. Most people’s budgets are likewise limited. Giving can be tough.This year, as I was planning a little party for my fellow barn-mates, I floated the idea of doing a gift exchange. Visions of heaps of horse-y goodies danced in my mind. Then Christy said “Why don’t we do something for a rescue? Have you seen the video of the young Thoroughbred the Hooved Animal Rescue & Protection Society (HARPS) just rescued?”
Really, all of us have all the stuff we need, and pretty much everything we want stuffed into our tack trunks and hanging from our pegs in the tack aisle. Our horses are fat, sleek, shiny and loved. Still, I demurred. Fundraising, despite the first three letters of that word, isn’t terribly fun.
But then I saw the video. And got on board real quick.
Instead of gifts, I asked my guests to contribute what they would have spent on a doo-dad to a donation to HARPS. They responded and together we have raised $500 to off-set some of the expenses HARPS has incurred in the rescue and subsequent care of young Tiger. $500!!! Yay! I’m going to to visit him this week and drop off the donation, and look forward to updating you on how he’s doing.
So, reallocating some funds and not buying something you don’t need is one way to free up budget for a little charitable giving. Buying some of the cool things the charities are offering is another. Here’s my favorite story of the season this year.
The Facebook Group Camelot Horse Weekly has more than 26,000 members, who weekly work together to spread word about the horses sold for meat at the Camelot auction. The auction operator is one of the very few who works with the rescue community, and the relationship is mutual and symbiotic. And almost every week, that pen is cleared, and new homes are found for the horses who, unaided, would be trucked off to a slaughterhouse. And slaughtered.
One key reason why the Camelot group has been so successful is a woman named Sarah Andrews. She’s an equine photographer, and the author of the Rock & Racehorses blog. She’s also a proud OTTB owner, and she’s been on my blogroll since this blog started, and in my RSS reader prior to that. She’s awesome.
The pictures she takes of the horses in the pen at Camelot are heartrending and beautiful. She gathered her favorites together and published a calendar, with proceeds benefitting One Horse At A Time, a rescue that takes in a lot of Camelot horses, including some of the most unwanted of the unwanted – the aged, the infirm, the really lame.
Sarah recently presented OHAAT with the first check from the sales of the calendar. The proceeds? $26,000 !!!! Twenty six large! And there’s more to come, especially if you order a copy or two for yourself and some friends today.
Every little bit counts. Please give to a local rescue today, or order one of those gorgeous calendars from Sarah. (I did!)
Important: Congress just passed a law lifting the ban on the slaughter of horses in the US, plants are coming on line here in the States. We can expect that horses will start to be slaughtered here in the US in about a month or two. Awesome. Way to go Congress. The American public doesn’t support slaughter but foreign business interests do, and their lobbyists line your pockets. Nice work, jerks.
Collecting Thoroughbreds 