Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Well, We're Movin' on Up Part II: April 23, 2008
“‘Well? Shall we go?’
‘Yes, let’s go.’
[They do not move.]”
- Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
Well, buttercups, I've moved Nic again. Yes, this is our 3rd barn in the past 12 months. And yes, children, it's almost a year to the day since my last trainer change. I hope this isn't becoming a pattern, a perpetual spring cleaning of sorts.
I've written in the past about certain watershed moments in my dressage education - those singular events that force enlightenment in such a profound manner that time cracks its shell, and when the arena footing settles, I'm left with the realization that I can't go back to the way things were previously. A new phase is born and the other one's dead.
Last spring, after firing Trainer and taking those few lessons with Napalm, I experienced one of these watershed moments. Nic's willing acceptance of the bit, and the consequent reduction in stiffness, was like an air traffic controller waving red panels aiding a pilot to land the plane - something you just can't ignore. I knew a corner had been turned, and in good conscience I could not return to the way things were before, even if I had wanted to.
In dressage, a good trainer is known as "Classical with a capital 'C'" and a bad trainer is known as "all they do is force the horse's head down." The difference, although profound, is usually subtle, until you know that which you can't un-know.
Yes, I'm being deliberately esoteric; I have no clue how to relate what has prompted this latest move. One of the things I struggle with regarding this blog is how to relate the calamity of rather dramatic and stupidly annoying events in such a way that's amusing, while protecting the identities of the parties in question. It's beyond the purposes of this blog to simply bitch about this person or that person, and is too adolescent for me to consider.
Also, the dynamics of the dressage world, and the rate at which knowledge tends to unfold itself to me, is too fast-paced to assume that my opinions about people will remain solid from one moment to the next. The trainer who appears to conjure enlightenment will, like a magic trick, reveal themselves to approach dressage from a different theoretical base than I do. And again, and again, and again, I’m left to sort things out on my own.
So, it's impossible for me to commit to writing anything about real-life individuals, save myself and Nic. Doing so would merely present the reader with a litany of caricatures, rather than an involved discussion of Nic's training. I suppose one of the pitfalls of enlightenment is the evolutionary aspect to it; an idea that seems sturdy and immovable as a fortress at the moment is, in fact, disposable and jello-like the next moment, especially for someone in their novitiate, such as myself. Iconoclasm is too much a hallmark of my dressage experience for me to commit to a singular, permanent, opinion.
I suppose the simplest explanation is that the place to which I moved Nic teaches dressage using the same theoretical base that I try to practice, and the change in Nic prevents me from going backwards. The most important moment I felt in the past couple weeks, thanks to the schoolmaster lessons, is the level of connection and rideability that develops, of the horse's own volition, when the rider encourages enough hind end action from the horse. I believe these schoolmaster lessons are the first time in my riding experience that the level of power necessary to produce a truly through horse has been demanded. I've always been encouraged to use the reins, to either supple her, bend her, or slow her down, more with Nic than both she and I have been comfortable with. When she is truly through and pushing from behind, I don't need to use the reins in the same way.
The sun has set, the moon has set, and, yes, even those distant centers of light, the stars, have set. High tide has come and gone, yet I’m still marooned with my thoughts. I can’t do this alone; I need a context to guide me. I suppose it's just time for me to move on. It's not my style to remain adrift in the muddy pretext of pretend, spinning my wheels; I want to learn to train my horse, told how to improve, and be demanded of excellence. If it's not happening in one place, like a game of chess, damn straight I'm going to determine my next move. In the quest for knowledge, if I've hit a dead end, I can either stagnate or move forward, right?
‘Yes, let’s go.’
[They do not move.]”
- Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
Well, buttercups, I've moved Nic again. Yes, this is our 3rd barn in the past 12 months. And yes, children, it's almost a year to the day since my last trainer change. I hope this isn't becoming a pattern, a perpetual spring cleaning of sorts.
I've written in the past about certain watershed moments in my dressage education - those singular events that force enlightenment in such a profound manner that time cracks its shell, and when the arena footing settles, I'm left with the realization that I can't go back to the way things were previously. A new phase is born and the other one's dead.
Last spring, after firing Trainer and taking those few lessons with Napalm, I experienced one of these watershed moments. Nic's willing acceptance of the bit, and the consequent reduction in stiffness, was like an air traffic controller waving red panels aiding a pilot to land the plane - something you just can't ignore. I knew a corner had been turned, and in good conscience I could not return to the way things were before, even if I had wanted to.
In dressage, a good trainer is known as "Classical with a capital 'C'" and a bad trainer is known as "all they do is force the horse's head down." The difference, although profound, is usually subtle, until you know that which you can't un-know.
Yes, I'm being deliberately esoteric; I have no clue how to relate what has prompted this latest move. One of the things I struggle with regarding this blog is how to relate the calamity of rather dramatic and stupidly annoying events in such a way that's amusing, while protecting the identities of the parties in question. It's beyond the purposes of this blog to simply bitch about this person or that person, and is too adolescent for me to consider.
Also, the dynamics of the dressage world, and the rate at which knowledge tends to unfold itself to me, is too fast-paced to assume that my opinions about people will remain solid from one moment to the next. The trainer who appears to conjure enlightenment will, like a magic trick, reveal themselves to approach dressage from a different theoretical base than I do. And again, and again, and again, I’m left to sort things out on my own.
So, it's impossible for me to commit to writing anything about real-life individuals, save myself and Nic. Doing so would merely present the reader with a litany of caricatures, rather than an involved discussion of Nic's training. I suppose one of the pitfalls of enlightenment is the evolutionary aspect to it; an idea that seems sturdy and immovable as a fortress at the moment is, in fact, disposable and jello-like the next moment, especially for someone in their novitiate, such as myself. Iconoclasm is too much a hallmark of my dressage experience for me to commit to a singular, permanent, opinion.
I suppose the simplest explanation is that the place to which I moved Nic teaches dressage using the same theoretical base that I try to practice, and the change in Nic prevents me from going backwards. The most important moment I felt in the past couple weeks, thanks to the schoolmaster lessons, is the level of connection and rideability that develops, of the horse's own volition, when the rider encourages enough hind end action from the horse. I believe these schoolmaster lessons are the first time in my riding experience that the level of power necessary to produce a truly through horse has been demanded. I've always been encouraged to use the reins, to either supple her, bend her, or slow her down, more with Nic than both she and I have been comfortable with. When she is truly through and pushing from behind, I don't need to use the reins in the same way.
The sun has set, the moon has set, and, yes, even those distant centers of light, the stars, have set. High tide has come and gone, yet I’m still marooned with my thoughts. I can’t do this alone; I need a context to guide me. I suppose it's just time for me to move on. It's not my style to remain adrift in the muddy pretext of pretend, spinning my wheels; I want to learn to train my horse, told how to improve, and be demanded of excellence. If it's not happening in one place, like a game of chess, damn straight I'm going to determine my next move. In the quest for knowledge, if I've hit a dead end, I can either stagnate or move forward, right?
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The Dark Ages of Dressage: April 17, 2008
Tomorrow I will cart Nic yet again to another trainer. Not to move, just for a lesson. I'm tired of dragging the mare from trainer to trainer. I gave up on trainers last December when it became apparent the best advice I'd received since buying her in 2006 was from Walter Zettl. Since then, I've been training by my wits, since my wits otherwise came to an end with professionals. I'm sure if I'd received decent help since the get go that my horse would be further along than she is, but I have yet to come across a program that is anything but counterproductive.
I don't know what it is about America; these united states are the land of opportunity, of dreams, but as far as dressage goes, that mentality has diluted the sport into a gulag of half-baked ideas. Actually, I do know what it is about America. Let me expound upon this.
Oscar Wilde once said "America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between." Decadence is the unintended result of unprecedented prosperity (remember the Roman Empire?), and whether that old queen is correct or not, one must admit that the level of prosperity in America has driven the average citizen to assume a sense of undoubted self-righteousness, and I'm certainly not excluded. Extreme confidence is as an American virtue as apple pie. The problem with self-righteousness is it leaves little room for self-questioning and analysis, further impeding advancement, and ultimately, prosperity. Rome wasn't built in a day, but it sure as hell was sacked in a day, thanks to a rotten core. The confidence balloon can only grow so big before you either redesign it or it bursts.
In the land where you can be anything you want to be as long as you click your heels together 3 times and whisper "there's no place like home," the barriers to entry into the dressage arena are dismally low. Add into that mixture a general poverty of education about the correct way to train a dressage horse, and you have students like me who can only point to an idea and think "that's not right" but with no light pointing to what IS right. Or, perhaps more importantly, how to create something that is right. We're left, so to speak, understanding that the shadows on the wall are not reality, but with no clue what reality is and where the opening to the damn cave is. And America being America, of course very few trainers will admit to even themselves that they're wrong or misguided, self-righteousness at its essence.
Like Europe during the dark ages, as soon as we try to improve ourselves and raise our standard of education, we get clubbed by the damn barbarians again (in this case, bad training), and are forced to lower our standards to "survival mode," and sort all this crap out ourselves. I would say that moving Nic from a boarding barn to a training barn has raised my training standards to a certain degree; certainly I would not have the same horse today if I had stayed at a boarding barn. But this still isn't enough for me; ignorance is an annoying cross to bear. There is still too much darkness and not enough light.
Ummm....so I guess I'm feeling a little frustrated about having no real helping hand with training my horse. I'm hoping I can come out of this "dark ages" of dressage I've been in. I've started getting some better understanding of contact since starting these schoolmaster lessons, and exactly what it feels like when a horse is through. This understanding has helped to improve Nic with her own throughness. We have a lot more work to do at the canter, but the trot has begun to improve.
I don't know what it is about America; these united states are the land of opportunity, of dreams, but as far as dressage goes, that mentality has diluted the sport into a gulag of half-baked ideas. Actually, I do know what it is about America. Let me expound upon this.
Oscar Wilde once said "America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between." Decadence is the unintended result of unprecedented prosperity (remember the Roman Empire?), and whether that old queen is correct or not, one must admit that the level of prosperity in America has driven the average citizen to assume a sense of undoubted self-righteousness, and I'm certainly not excluded. Extreme confidence is as an American virtue as apple pie. The problem with self-righteousness is it leaves little room for self-questioning and analysis, further impeding advancement, and ultimately, prosperity. Rome wasn't built in a day, but it sure as hell was sacked in a day, thanks to a rotten core. The confidence balloon can only grow so big before you either redesign it or it bursts.
In the land where you can be anything you want to be as long as you click your heels together 3 times and whisper "there's no place like home," the barriers to entry into the dressage arena are dismally low. Add into that mixture a general poverty of education about the correct way to train a dressage horse, and you have students like me who can only point to an idea and think "that's not right" but with no light pointing to what IS right. Or, perhaps more importantly, how to create something that is right. We're left, so to speak, understanding that the shadows on the wall are not reality, but with no clue what reality is and where the opening to the damn cave is. And America being America, of course very few trainers will admit to even themselves that they're wrong or misguided, self-righteousness at its essence.
Like Europe during the dark ages, as soon as we try to improve ourselves and raise our standard of education, we get clubbed by the damn barbarians again (in this case, bad training), and are forced to lower our standards to "survival mode," and sort all this crap out ourselves. I would say that moving Nic from a boarding barn to a training barn has raised my training standards to a certain degree; certainly I would not have the same horse today if I had stayed at a boarding barn. But this still isn't enough for me; ignorance is an annoying cross to bear. There is still too much darkness and not enough light.
Ummm....so I guess I'm feeling a little frustrated about having no real helping hand with training my horse. I'm hoping I can come out of this "dark ages" of dressage I've been in. I've started getting some better understanding of contact since starting these schoolmaster lessons, and exactly what it feels like when a horse is through. This understanding has helped to improve Nic with her own throughness. We have a lot more work to do at the canter, but the trot has begun to improve.
Monday, March 31, 2008
The Manic-Depressive, Indecisive Dressage Rider: March 31, 2008
I don’t know what the deal is with this horse. Suffice to say, I don’t have a simple horse. She’s as complex as a spiderweb, and about as sticky too. I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t, and it makes me look like a manic-depressive, indecisive idiot.
Suddenly, she’s doing great as a dressage horse. Because her natural inclination is to pull the rider around the arena, and, let’s face it, I’m a dressage rider, I school her in dressage between the days Special K jumps her.
I should mention that I got her a new saddle. It’s a sad little Wintec dressage saddle, but it’s actually been somewhat of a miracle worker. I know some people that have gotten their USDF silver medals using a Wintec, so I’m guessing they can’t be that bad. Either way, for Nicole, it’s been about as useful as an orthopedic shoe. As explained to me by 2 different massage therapists and a saddle fitter, the Neidersuss hits her back in such a way that it causes her to invert. Since the Neidersuss doesn’t really fit me either, away it goes.
The change was instantaneous; she stopped inverting at the canter, and her trot-canter transitions have become, most days, rounder. She is also more willing to bend; she has stopped resisting the bit in leg yields and half passes.
Remember when I was tearing my hair out about her crappy canter? I actually got irritated yesterday because I couldn’t get good canter-walk transitions (walk-canter is ok). I had to remind myself that even 4 months ago I was ready to throw myself off the nearest cherry blossom tree because of her canter. The crappy canter seems to be a thing of the past, for the most part.
Additionally, I’ve found a barn with a Grand Prix schoolmaster for lessons, about 10 min away from Nicole’s barn. I’m trying to take 2-3 lessons a week. I’m still looking to lease horse that I can compete (higher than Nicole can), but in the mean time, I like the people at the Grand Prix barn, and I like the horse. Maybe they can help me with Nicole, but I’m not sure Nicole can be helped at this point.
Suddenly, she’s doing great as a dressage horse. Because her natural inclination is to pull the rider around the arena, and, let’s face it, I’m a dressage rider, I school her in dressage between the days Special K jumps her.
I should mention that I got her a new saddle. It’s a sad little Wintec dressage saddle, but it’s actually been somewhat of a miracle worker. I know some people that have gotten their USDF silver medals using a Wintec, so I’m guessing they can’t be that bad. Either way, for Nicole, it’s been about as useful as an orthopedic shoe. As explained to me by 2 different massage therapists and a saddle fitter, the Neidersuss hits her back in such a way that it causes her to invert. Since the Neidersuss doesn’t really fit me either, away it goes.
The change was instantaneous; she stopped inverting at the canter, and her trot-canter transitions have become, most days, rounder. She is also more willing to bend; she has stopped resisting the bit in leg yields and half passes.
Remember when I was tearing my hair out about her crappy canter? I actually got irritated yesterday because I couldn’t get good canter-walk transitions (walk-canter is ok). I had to remind myself that even 4 months ago I was ready to throw myself off the nearest cherry blossom tree because of her canter. The crappy canter seems to be a thing of the past, for the most part.
Additionally, I’ve found a barn with a Grand Prix schoolmaster for lessons, about 10 min away from Nicole’s barn. I’m trying to take 2-3 lessons a week. I’m still looking to lease horse that I can compete (higher than Nicole can), but in the mean time, I like the people at the Grand Prix barn, and I like the horse. Maybe they can help me with Nicole, but I’m not sure Nicole can be helped at this point.
The Bi-Curious Dressage Horse: March 24, 2008
I haven’t written in a while because I’m not exactly sure how to write about what’s been going on, and my viewpoint changes day to day, making any ideas committed to paper obsolete upon publication.
About a month ago, after a horrendous ride indoors, I had just had it with Nicole and her tension. I’d tried to be accommodating with her door phobia, but after being limited to a 20m circle in the center of the arena, and with mare moments escalating to dangerous proportions despite my “how can I serve thee” mindset, I just couldn’t continue riding her and staying sane myself.
Ultimately, I ride dressage because I like the sport; my riding doesn’t revolve around a single animal. In other words, the point isn’t to have a horse, the point is to ride dressage. I’ve never made any excuses about this; I didn’t grow up dreaming about horses, or asking my daddy to buy me a pony so I could have something to love and hold. That just didn’t happen.
I’ve tried everything to determine Nicole’s issue: herbal remedies, massages, new saddles, etc, and things have not changed. Having ruled out physical discomfort, my final recourse was heavy antipsychotic medication, as recommended by the vet. I can’t get on the bandwagon with that, as it seems too extreme for the situation. The horse has a screw loose, but I don’t like the idea of putting her on antipsychotics. I think they mess with the animal’s quality of life, and anyway, I can’t compete her if she has them in her system. She isn’t endangering herself or people (just me, and undersaddle), and if I have to drug my horse to get her to do dressage, what’s the point?
So after being patient with her antics, and finally realizing that the horse just isn’t interested and doesn’t have the temperament for dressage, I tried jumping her. And the lightbulb came on. She has made it quite clear that jumping is her interest, and is what makes her feel good about herself.
Q: What does the very-much-dressage rider do with a horse uninterested in dressage, and excited about a discipline in which said rider has no interest?
That’s been the question that has kept me away from the written word for a while. How do begin to relate the thoughts and summarize the path that has led me here?
Nicole’s training lately has become a mixture of dressage and show jumping. Show jumping being simply dressage with obstacles, I’ve been continuing to rider her as a dressage horse in between the times Special K can come jump her for me.
The end result is a much happier horse who is now somewhat willing to train dressage. Ultimately, though, I plan to let her go forth and conquer as a show jumper.
This has left me with some decisions: do I buy a new dressage horse, lease a dressage horse, just take schoolmaster lessons, what? One thing is for certain – however I acquire a dressage horse, it will be trained.
This hasn’t been resolved. I’ve looked at some horses to buy, but today’s thinking is that leasing or paying for schoolmaster lessons may be a better idea. New Trainer (where we moved last October) has a horse potentially for lease for me to try tomorrow. On Friday, I’m visiting a barn with a schoolmaster available for lessons. Each is about equally as cost efficient, and certainly more cost efficient than buying a horse. The upside to buying a horse is that I would have something to compete and I wouldn’t have to ask anyone or get permission, etc. The downsides to buying a new horse are obvious.
About a month ago, after a horrendous ride indoors, I had just had it with Nicole and her tension. I’d tried to be accommodating with her door phobia, but after being limited to a 20m circle in the center of the arena, and with mare moments escalating to dangerous proportions despite my “how can I serve thee” mindset, I just couldn’t continue riding her and staying sane myself.
Ultimately, I ride dressage because I like the sport; my riding doesn’t revolve around a single animal. In other words, the point isn’t to have a horse, the point is to ride dressage. I’ve never made any excuses about this; I didn’t grow up dreaming about horses, or asking my daddy to buy me a pony so I could have something to love and hold. That just didn’t happen.
I’ve tried everything to determine Nicole’s issue: herbal remedies, massages, new saddles, etc, and things have not changed. Having ruled out physical discomfort, my final recourse was heavy antipsychotic medication, as recommended by the vet. I can’t get on the bandwagon with that, as it seems too extreme for the situation. The horse has a screw loose, but I don’t like the idea of putting her on antipsychotics. I think they mess with the animal’s quality of life, and anyway, I can’t compete her if she has them in her system. She isn’t endangering herself or people (just me, and undersaddle), and if I have to drug my horse to get her to do dressage, what’s the point?
So after being patient with her antics, and finally realizing that the horse just isn’t interested and doesn’t have the temperament for dressage, I tried jumping her. And the lightbulb came on. She has made it quite clear that jumping is her interest, and is what makes her feel good about herself.
Q: What does the very-much-dressage rider do with a horse uninterested in dressage, and excited about a discipline in which said rider has no interest?
That’s been the question that has kept me away from the written word for a while. How do begin to relate the thoughts and summarize the path that has led me here?
Nicole’s training lately has become a mixture of dressage and show jumping. Show jumping being simply dressage with obstacles, I’ve been continuing to rider her as a dressage horse in between the times Special K can come jump her for me.
The end result is a much happier horse who is now somewhat willing to train dressage. Ultimately, though, I plan to let her go forth and conquer as a show jumper.
This has left me with some decisions: do I buy a new dressage horse, lease a dressage horse, just take schoolmaster lessons, what? One thing is for certain – however I acquire a dressage horse, it will be trained.
This hasn’t been resolved. I’ve looked at some horses to buy, but today’s thinking is that leasing or paying for schoolmaster lessons may be a better idea. New Trainer (where we moved last October) has a horse potentially for lease for me to try tomorrow. On Friday, I’m visiting a barn with a schoolmaster available for lessons. Each is about equally as cost efficient, and certainly more cost efficient than buying a horse. The upside to buying a horse is that I would have something to compete and I wouldn’t have to ask anyone or get permission, etc. The downsides to buying a new horse are obvious.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
In Which Nicole Sees a Therapist Part II: February 7, 2008
Follow up from my last post.
She is bending better through the left. Now, she has switched the sides she is stiff on; she doesn't want to make contact with the right side. This is completely normal, and actually kind of a good thing, because it shows she's using her body differently.
The canter has gone downhill, sort of. It was fairly balanced before, and she held herself well. Now that she has switched her stiff side, she is leaning a lot more on the left rein, so her canter has gotten strung out again. It was a lot worse last week; she was completely leaning on the bit. This week she has started carrying herself a little better, although sometimes she breaks from the canter, and can't hold herself in the canter for very long before she starts to lean. I think this will get better though, and is just a growing pain.
Her trot, on the other hand, has gotten much better and more through. I think the main issue the Walter Zettl clinic addressed was that Nic didn't understand (because I failed to show her) that I wanted her to seek the bit and be loose over her back. I know this is a basic concept of dressage, and I thought I had addressed it, but I realized during that clinic that I really hadn't addressed it. Because that issue has been addressed, she now understands the half halt much better.
In the past month I've also realized just how much my rein length affects her comprehension of my expectations. In the past, I've tended to let my reins slip, which inadvertently changes the level of contact. I think part of the reason she hasn't gotten the "self-carriage memo" is because the different levels of contact that occur throughout a training session sends mixed messages.
While logically this makes sense, I didn't really think about this as an issue until I read some literature (I want to say Podhajsky and Isabel Werth) that stated that sometimes the rider needs to keep the contact until the horse is "tuned into" the contact. It struck me that maybe with all the length changes, Nic is having a hard time understanding what I'm trying to communicate to her. I've been trying to keep a watch on how much I let the reins slip. It seems to have an effect because she seems to carry herself a little better, and there is a lot less weight in my hands. She also accepts much slighter half halts, sometimes (especially in posting trot) all I have to do to get her off her forehand is to shift my shoulders back.
She's getting more fluid in the sitting trot. She is starting to understand that she shouldn't change her tempo or rhythm at all when I sit. She still wants to tighten her back sometimes, but more and more she is keeping the same rhythm. The issue I've realized with her sitting trot is that I seem to have a hard time absorbing her motion once she starts to become more through and swing her back. It's a bumpy ride because of her suspension. I think that's why she wants to tighten her back when I initially sit - because I'm blocking her motion, and not moving with it.
She is bending better through the left. Now, she has switched the sides she is stiff on; she doesn't want to make contact with the right side. This is completely normal, and actually kind of a good thing, because it shows she's using her body differently.
The canter has gone downhill, sort of. It was fairly balanced before, and she held herself well. Now that she has switched her stiff side, she is leaning a lot more on the left rein, so her canter has gotten strung out again. It was a lot worse last week; she was completely leaning on the bit. This week she has started carrying herself a little better, although sometimes she breaks from the canter, and can't hold herself in the canter for very long before she starts to lean. I think this will get better though, and is just a growing pain.
Her trot, on the other hand, has gotten much better and more through. I think the main issue the Walter Zettl clinic addressed was that Nic didn't understand (because I failed to show her) that I wanted her to seek the bit and be loose over her back. I know this is a basic concept of dressage, and I thought I had addressed it, but I realized during that clinic that I really hadn't addressed it. Because that issue has been addressed, she now understands the half halt much better.
In the past month I've also realized just how much my rein length affects her comprehension of my expectations. In the past, I've tended to let my reins slip, which inadvertently changes the level of contact. I think part of the reason she hasn't gotten the "self-carriage memo" is because the different levels of contact that occur throughout a training session sends mixed messages.
While logically this makes sense, I didn't really think about this as an issue until I read some literature (I want to say Podhajsky and Isabel Werth) that stated that sometimes the rider needs to keep the contact until the horse is "tuned into" the contact. It struck me that maybe with all the length changes, Nic is having a hard time understanding what I'm trying to communicate to her. I've been trying to keep a watch on how much I let the reins slip. It seems to have an effect because she seems to carry herself a little better, and there is a lot less weight in my hands. She also accepts much slighter half halts, sometimes (especially in posting trot) all I have to do to get her off her forehand is to shift my shoulders back.
She's getting more fluid in the sitting trot. She is starting to understand that she shouldn't change her tempo or rhythm at all when I sit. She still wants to tighten her back sometimes, but more and more she is keeping the same rhythm. The issue I've realized with her sitting trot is that I seem to have a hard time absorbing her motion once she starts to become more through and swing her back. It's a bumpy ride because of her suspension. I think that's why she wants to tighten her back when I initially sit - because I'm blocking her motion, and not moving with it.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
In Which Nicole Sees a Therapist: January 24, 2008
About 2 weeks ago, a fellow boarder pointed out that Nicole was having neck spasms in the left side of her neck, specifically in the muscle that runs from her poll and attaches to her chest. Yeah, it was pretty gross to watch.
This possibly accounts for some of her issues with stretching to the bit, so I had a masseuse/chiropractor work on her. He cracked, and he hacked, and he smacked, and he whacked, and the end result is that he determined that Nic wants to keep her left shoulder immobilized, rather than swing it forward and out, and she doesn't want to bend her left side properly to make contact with the bit.
I have no idea if this adjusting is going to do anything for the horse. I probably won't be able to determine anything for a few weeks because either:
Needless to say, she is resisting, with every trick she can conjure, bending properly to the left and accepting contact on the left side. This has made for some wonderful "Mare Moments" but also is a hemorrhoidal-quality pain in the ass, because we were making progress, and while we haven't completely backtracked, we aren't far from our starting point a month ago.
It just occured to me that the spasms possibly occurred in the first place because I'm asking her to seek the bit more effectively now (i.e., use her to use her topline muscles) than I have in the past. So, as she used her neck muscles more, she built more muscle over her topline and possibly strained or overworked the muscles...
This possibly accounts for some of her issues with stretching to the bit, so I had a masseuse/chiropractor work on her. He cracked, and he hacked, and he smacked, and he whacked, and the end result is that he determined that Nic wants to keep her left shoulder immobilized, rather than swing it forward and out, and she doesn't want to bend her left side properly to make contact with the bit.
I have no idea if this adjusting is going to do anything for the horse. I probably won't be able to determine anything for a few weeks because either:
1. The adjusting did nothing for her
2. The adjusting did something, and now that she is being asked to use the shoulder and her neck correctly, the lack of muscling there (because she wasn't using them before) makes bending correctly hard for her, and she is cranky and unwilling to bend without a fight.
Needless to say, she is resisting, with every trick she can conjure, bending properly to the left and accepting contact on the left side. This has made for some wonderful "Mare Moments" but also is a hemorrhoidal-quality pain in the ass, because we were making progress, and while we haven't completely backtracked, we aren't far from our starting point a month ago.
It just occured to me that the spasms possibly occurred in the first place because I'm asking her to seek the bit more effectively now (i.e., use her to use her topline muscles) than I have in the past. So, as she used her neck muscles more, she built more muscle over her topline and possibly strained or overworked the muscles...
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