Know what? Most days, I've completely had it with horse people. Actually, most days I've had it with most people, but horse people in particular tend to be the recipients of my ire more than the rest of humanity, except for perhaps those girls on My Super Sweet 16. I've never met a class of people more self-involved, dishonest, and dramatic than horse people. I can delve into the myriad reasons why horse people act the way they do, but why bother attempting to analyze something that will never change. The more I'm around horse people, the more bitter I become about the sport.
I spend most days trying to remind myself that the dressage world is effectively a pretend world - outside of horses, when would any of this be important? There's a whole planet spinning outside of the dressage arena, making the efforts I expend in the dressage world frighteningly superficial and meaningless when I really take a hard look at it. Then I ask myself why I'm doing what I'm doing - why do I care about some nebulous concept of achievement that Grand Prix represents? What is this doing for me as a person?
I suppose it's truthful to say that I started riding dressage and worrying about achievement in the dressage world for lack of anything better to do. Everyone needs goals, regardless of how meaningless they are outside of a specific sphere, right? Some people want to be in politics, some people find validation in working to become a bishop. Of course, those spheres have their own dramas. Dressage is no different from anything else out there. I can't shake the feeling that if it wasn't dressage I had picked, I'd still be surrounded by the drama of whatever else I'd replaced dressage with. Might as well stick with the evil you know.
Still, I can't help but wonder what this is doing to me as a person. Success, like everything else under the sun, in the horse world is all about survival of the fittest - I'm not going to sugarcoat this as some people would. It is what it is. Let's be realistic here, in order to achieve anything, one has to be very focused on the goal, and I tend to be more committed to achievement than other people (read: I'm willing to do what it takes to meet an end). Machiavellian? Probably. But I also have to face the reality that I'm not entirely sure I like the person I have to be when it comes to horses. Who wants to be bitter and angry before they're 45?
I know I've had success more rapidly than most people - a brief perusal of this blog will satisfy any question about the validity of that statement. But, the reason for that success is because I've done what I've had to do - sacrificed personal relationships, sacrificed money, and probably sacrificed my future reputation to some extent. Six months ago I could barely canter Nicole - now, given a horse with the proper training, I can pop of one tempis with no problem. But that rapid improvement HAS come at a price, and I can feel the weight of it within me mentally. I can slowly feel myself becoming more sour as time goes on - do I really want any success in dressage if it turns me into a total bitch before the age of 30?
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
November 24, 2008
It's been a while, and there's been a lot going on, so I haven't had time to really sit down and write it all out. Nicole's training is still going well, but part of the reason I haven't written anything is because nothing remarkable has taken place in the past month, just the small improvements of which tedium negates discussion. The counter canter is much better, and is becoming a solid movement. She doesn't think about switching her leads behind, and is able to maintain the counter canter after a full half pass (from one corner of the long side to the opposite corner).
It has become clear that Nicole maintains her throughness better when she is continually encouraged into her left rein by the right leg. I guess it's just one of her peculiarities. She needs the left rein held more than the right rein, especially in the right lead canter. Lately an issue has been that she wants to become stuck in the right lead canter, and she loses forward, which means she loses throughness. I have to remember to make sure she's through and carrying herself as I ask her for more forward, because one of her favorite tricks is to brace against the bit, causing her to lose the canter - really annoying. When she's carrying herself, pushing her forward so she maintains the canter is easier and more productive. Releasing the reins to make sure she's carrying herself also causes her to become more through because she's more accepting of the bit (i.e., she starts to chew the bit).
The lead changes are currently nothing spectacular - she's generally doing clean ones, but most of them are short. :-/ That will get better with time, I just thought Nicole would be able to do them cleanly immediately, since she is able to do anything I've asked of her, if her strength permitted it. I haven't done any in a week or so, because Nicole started to anticipate them, meaning that she would try to change at a particular place in the arena, whether I asked or not. This caused me to almost fall off of her a couple weeks ago, because she suddenly switched her weight under me.
I have acquired a new best friend in the past couple weeks - a stallion, who, I guess, for the purposes of this blog, I'll call The Stallion. I don't own him, a friend has given him to me to ride, so who knows how long my relationship with The Stallion will last, but I'll keep writing about him until it's over, mostly because there's not much to update about Nicole daily, unless you want to watch the same half pass everyday. He's green, and yes, I'm aware of how cliché this sounds, and I know as well as you do, dear reader, that this is another green/green combo. Since it's my life's work to avoid the cliché and the obvious, I have made efforts to ensure über-professional help, so hopefully everything won't go to hell in a handbasket anytime soon. And, considering my success with Nicole (another green/green combo, mind you) under über-professional guidance, I'm feeling somewhat confident I can pull it off again, mostly because I find no shame in admitting that I need someone with more experience to advise. It's been my experience that a lot of horse people will not admit their short-comings, and feign confidence in the face of confusion; I simply don't operate under that sort of hubris. I'd rather do things right than be right, although few people recognize that quality in me.
Considering my last session with The Stallion, during which he thought about striking out at the lunge whip (i.e., turning his head, pinning his ears, and raising his hind leg, before I was able to push him forward), I'm guessing I will have some interesting stuff to write about. And yes, I called the Über Professional to consult. Even Michael Jordan needs a coach.
As an aside, I've started to develop the callouses that come with using the double bridle. The photo kind of sucks, so they're hard to see, but I think you can get the gist from the photo. They make me feel like an old lady, since my fingers now look like they're ridden with arthritis. Rhumatism went out with the 19th century as a glamor-disease, so I'm not feeling real thrilled with the callouses, but them's the breaks.
It has become clear that Nicole maintains her throughness better when she is continually encouraged into her left rein by the right leg. I guess it's just one of her peculiarities. She needs the left rein held more than the right rein, especially in the right lead canter. Lately an issue has been that she wants to become stuck in the right lead canter, and she loses forward, which means she loses throughness. I have to remember to make sure she's through and carrying herself as I ask her for more forward, because one of her favorite tricks is to brace against the bit, causing her to lose the canter - really annoying. When she's carrying herself, pushing her forward so she maintains the canter is easier and more productive. Releasing the reins to make sure she's carrying herself also causes her to become more through because she's more accepting of the bit (i.e., she starts to chew the bit).
The lead changes are currently nothing spectacular - she's generally doing clean ones, but most of them are short. :-/ That will get better with time, I just thought Nicole would be able to do them cleanly immediately, since she is able to do anything I've asked of her, if her strength permitted it. I haven't done any in a week or so, because Nicole started to anticipate them, meaning that she would try to change at a particular place in the arena, whether I asked or not. This caused me to almost fall off of her a couple weeks ago, because she suddenly switched her weight under me.
I have acquired a new best friend in the past couple weeks - a stallion, who, I guess, for the purposes of this blog, I'll call The Stallion. I don't own him, a friend has given him to me to ride, so who knows how long my relationship with The Stallion will last, but I'll keep writing about him until it's over, mostly because there's not much to update about Nicole daily, unless you want to watch the same half pass everyday. He's green, and yes, I'm aware of how cliché this sounds, and I know as well as you do, dear reader, that this is another green/green combo. Since it's my life's work to avoid the cliché and the obvious, I have made efforts to ensure über-professional help, so hopefully everything won't go to hell in a handbasket anytime soon. And, considering my success with Nicole (another green/green combo, mind you) under über-professional guidance, I'm feeling somewhat confident I can pull it off again, mostly because I find no shame in admitting that I need someone with more experience to advise. It's been my experience that a lot of horse people will not admit their short-comings, and feign confidence in the face of confusion; I simply don't operate under that sort of hubris. I'd rather do things right than be right, although few people recognize that quality in me.
Considering my last session with The Stallion, during which he thought about striking out at the lunge whip (i.e., turning his head, pinning his ears, and raising his hind leg, before I was able to push him forward), I'm guessing I will have some interesting stuff to write about. And yes, I called the Über Professional to consult. Even Michael Jordan needs a coach.
As an aside, I've started to develop the callouses that come with using the double bridle. The photo kind of sucks, so they're hard to see, but I think you can get the gist from the photo. They make me feel like an old lady, since my fingers now look like they're ridden with arthritis. Rhumatism went out with the 19th century as a glamor-disease, so I'm not feeling real thrilled with the callouses, but them's the breaks.
Friday, October 24, 2008
October 24, 2008
Canter half pass to centerline, and canter half pass on the full diagonal. A first try for the full diagonal, so she isn't bent enough, but that will come with time.
Counter canter is getting much better. She's not thinking about switching behind, especially after the canter half pass.
Counter canter is getting much better. She's not thinking about switching behind, especially after the canter half pass.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
October 22, 2008
Except for the first day, Nicole has hit every lead change perfectly. I'm not going to say they're in balance, or that they're beautiful, but they're clean. Every so often she will do a short change, but mostly they're completely clean.
We've been working on getting a more uphill working trot and on collected trot. I got to ride another GP schoolmaster (regularly scores in the high 60's and 70th percentile in GP!) last week to learn how to teach Nic a better collected trot and how to make a more uphill trot.
We've been working on getting a more uphill working trot and on collected trot. I got to ride another GP schoolmaster (regularly scores in the high 60's and 70th percentile in GP!) last week to learn how to teach Nic a better collected trot and how to make a more uphill trot.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
October 15, 2008
Nicole started flying lead changes this week. The first 2 she did fine, but now it's sort of hit or miss whether she will change late behind. She did one clean one yesterday after doing around 6 late.
Counter canter is more solid, but not as balanced as I'd like it to be, but that will come with time. She at least doesn't consider switching behind, and maintains her softness throughout the counter canter. I can also ask her to be more through, or to redistribute her balance to her hind end in the counter canter without destroying the fragile equilibrium of the movement, mainly because her strength is increasing. It still feels a little rushed, but that will become less of an issue as she gains strength and confidence.
Video will follow shortly.
Counter canter is more solid, but not as balanced as I'd like it to be, but that will come with time. She at least doesn't consider switching behind, and maintains her softness throughout the counter canter. I can also ask her to be more through, or to redistribute her balance to her hind end in the counter canter without destroying the fragile equilibrium of the movement, mainly because her strength is increasing. It still feels a little rushed, but that will become less of an issue as she gains strength and confidence.
Video will follow shortly.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Sept 22, 2008
Nothing's really new. Nicole is getting used to the fact that she will have to counter canter whether she likes it or not. We went through a phase for about 2 weeks when she realized the counter canter takes work, and she just has to do it. She would switch her lead behind to compensate for a tired outside leg.
The key to everything in dressage, from what I've experienced, is that making sure the horse is through and soft makes everything a lot easier. This sounds elementary, but in the heat of battle is easy to forget, and as Nic strains to accomplish a new task (such as the counter canter), she can become tough in the mouth, which equates to a lack of throughness. But when I don't work towards that softness, she is more likely to switch her leads behind.
We've also been spending some time riding without stirrups, to fix my leg position and tighten up my seat.
The key to everything in dressage, from what I've experienced, is that making sure the horse is through and soft makes everything a lot easier. This sounds elementary, but in the heat of battle is easy to forget, and as Nic strains to accomplish a new task (such as the counter canter), she can become tough in the mouth, which equates to a lack of throughness. But when I don't work towards that softness, she is more likely to switch her leads behind.
We've also been spending some time riding without stirrups, to fix my leg position and tighten up my seat.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
September 2, 2008
Counter canter is coming easier now. She stays relaxed doing the 2-1 serpentine canter/counter canter tour. Bending left, that's a different story. I think it's because she needs her teeth done, but I'm told that I don't make any horse bend left. I mean really bend left, so that the horse is through.
These weird little quirks keep cropping up that are hold-overs from my days skating. Things like, I'm more comfortable going to the left (the way I rotate when jumping). I collapse my left side when going left (also a hold-over from jumping). You know, my left side is bigger than my right side, because growing up there was more muscle development on the left side over many years, just as my right foot is permanently at about a 30 degree angle more than my left foot. Sometimes I wonder just how affected my musculoskeletal system really is by skating, for example, if my left side is shorter than my right side, or if there is a permanent angle to my rib cage or clavicle, because of all the bending.
We are going to start her on working pirouette soon. I don't know about it, I have some amount of apprehension. I can't do them relaxed and confidently on the schoolmaster. Or maybe I do them better than I think (as I do pirouettes and don't get yelled at about having to fix anything). The real thing I wonder about is when we can start working on changes.
These weird little quirks keep cropping up that are hold-overs from my days skating. Things like, I'm more comfortable going to the left (the way I rotate when jumping). I collapse my left side when going left (also a hold-over from jumping). You know, my left side is bigger than my right side, because growing up there was more muscle development on the left side over many years, just as my right foot is permanently at about a 30 degree angle more than my left foot. Sometimes I wonder just how affected my musculoskeletal system really is by skating, for example, if my left side is shorter than my right side, or if there is a permanent angle to my rib cage or clavicle, because of all the bending.
We are going to start her on working pirouette soon. I don't know about it, I have some amount of apprehension. I can't do them relaxed and confidently on the schoolmaster. Or maybe I do them better than I think (as I do pirouettes and don't get yelled at about having to fix anything). The real thing I wonder about is when we can start working on changes.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
August 27, 2008
Hmmmm...ok...counter canter. So, she's doing it, and it's not great, but nothing starts out great. We started initially with introducing counter canter using the 1-4 one loop serpentine. It took Nic about a day to process that, and the next day she did them perfectly (when I didn't mess us up) so 3 or so days later we started on the actual counter canter, going from centerline to the wall, and making about a 20m circle. I think she gets it, I just think is hard right now. Sometimes she makes it the whole 20m, and sometimes she changes behind. Yesterday she couldn't compute left counter canter at all (did perfect lead changes instead), but today we got the counter canter.
She gets tomorrow off, which is good. Since moving Nic to a full time training program, I've found that she needs 2 days off to keep from imploding. Which is fine. Because I need them too.
My legs hurt from keeping her between them, and from using them to bend her in half-passes and shoulder-ins, and also from bending her through her barrel when she loses her throughness. I can't believe how tired my legs are. And there's a lot of muscle down there already. I can't imagine what a weaker person must feel like.
She gets tomorrow off, which is good. Since moving Nic to a full time training program, I've found that she needs 2 days off to keep from imploding. Which is fine. Because I need them too.
My legs hurt from keeping her between them, and from using them to bend her in half-passes and shoulder-ins, and also from bending her through her barrel when she loses her throughness. I can't believe how tired my legs are. And there's a lot of muscle down there already. I can't imagine what a weaker person must feel like.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
August 24, 2008
Nicole is doing better in the double - no more resistance at the trot, and minimal resistance at the canter. She is less supple to the left right now - you wouldn't necessarily see it from the outside, but I can feel it. If she has any other resistance in the canter, it's because of something I'm doing, probably putting too much pressure on the curb. I've got the hang of only engaging the curb as needed at the trot, but at the canter I'm still working on keeping my "curb fingers" loose until I need to actually use the 2nd bit.
We started on counter canter and canter half-passes this week. Nicole, of course, already knows canter half-passes, which sounds like a funny thing to say, but half-pass is sort of her thing, and it just took asking for the movement for her to actually perform it. Her haunches trail a little bit, but I'm ok with that for now because we just introduced it.
This isn't the first time Nicole has done counter canter, but it's the first time she's done it in over a year, and certainly the first time she has completed the exercise in balance, rhythmically, and without a huge amount of tension. We re-introduced it using the one-loop serpentine that occurs in USDF First Level, Test 4. To the left, it's really simple, to the right, I have to remember how to distribute my weight. The feeling isn't too dissimilar from a half-pass, and as soon as I figured that out, things got a lot easier to the right.
We started on counter canter and canter half-passes this week. Nicole, of course, already knows canter half-passes, which sounds like a funny thing to say, but half-pass is sort of her thing, and it just took asking for the movement for her to actually perform it. Her haunches trail a little bit, but I'm ok with that for now because we just introduced it.
This isn't the first time Nicole has done counter canter, but it's the first time she's done it in over a year, and certainly the first time she has completed the exercise in balance, rhythmically, and without a huge amount of tension. We re-introduced it using the one-loop serpentine that occurs in USDF First Level, Test 4. To the left, it's really simple, to the right, I have to remember how to distribute my weight. The feeling isn't too dissimilar from a half-pass, and as soon as I figured that out, things got a lot easier to the right.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
August 20, 2008
New recent video.
Been doing better with the trot, have most of my seat back. Navigating the double has been interesting. I'm figuring out the amount of pressure necessary for each rein, although that's a journey I'm pretty sure will never end. I feel like a total nerd/delicate doily with the light way I have to hold my hands so I don't put too much pressure on the curb bit. I don't know about other horses, but the two I ride in the double are very different. Nicole requires almost no curb pressure, so I'm holding the curb rein pretty much with my fingers open. The biggest revelation lately has been figuring out how to have a following hand, so that when Nicole leans on the curb, I don't put her in a position where I don't accidentally slam her in the face with the curb.
Been doing better with the trot, have most of my seat back. Navigating the double has been interesting. I'm figuring out the amount of pressure necessary for each rein, although that's a journey I'm pretty sure will never end. I feel like a total nerd/delicate doily with the light way I have to hold my hands so I don't put too much pressure on the curb bit. I don't know about other horses, but the two I ride in the double are very different. Nicole requires almost no curb pressure, so I'm holding the curb rein pretty much with my fingers open. The biggest revelation lately has been figuring out how to have a following hand, so that when Nicole leans on the curb, I don't put her in a position where I don't accidentally slam her in the face with the curb.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
August 7, 2008
I have somehow lost my seat at the trot. Everything feels disconnected. I don't know what the hell happened. It's also a million degrees with 100% humidity here, and I have Lymes Disease courtesy of a generous deer tick, so that may have something to do with it.
Nicole feels a lot better in the double, and her movement is completely different, she has more airtime. I have to use my hands a lot softer, that's taking some getting used to since she goes a lot different in the snaffle.
But this whole losing-my-seat thing in the trot is bullshit. Oh, and she can basically maintain a medium trot now.
Nicole feels a lot better in the double, and her movement is completely different, she has more airtime. I have to use my hands a lot softer, that's taking some getting used to since she goes a lot different in the snaffle.
But this whole losing-my-seat thing in the trot is bullshit. Oh, and she can basically maintain a medium trot now.
Monday, August 4, 2008
August 4, 2008
Nicole was introduced to the double bridle yesterday because she is now through on both sides in all 3 gaits. She was less than thrilled about it, but her throughness is even more improved now, and the quality of her gaits has improved. I will have to video soon, but not this month. Like I said, she was less than thrilled with her new bridle, and kept flipping her head.
In the snaffle, I had to use more hand than I like and than I have to use with other horses because of her initial training, and tendency to become heavy. In the double, I find that I have to use a LOT less hand, which I like, but is taking some time to get used to. For once she wasn't interested in spooking in the corners because she was so distracted by the bridle. It will be interesting to see how she progresses with it.
I also realized that the spooking decreases when I properly put my leg on her, and I mean really put it on her, which I wasn't doing before. I was making her forward, but not putting my leg on her. How can that be? I realized because she's so short (15.3 hands), I don't have my legs on her like I do on taller horses. Putting my leg on her now is an exercise in origami, since I have to fold myself to make my legs fit. I'm 5'10". However, when I do properly fold myself and keep my leg on her, she has much less opportunity to spook, because the spooking (i.e. lack of throughness) originated with her swinging her haunches. Lose the haunches, lose the throughness. Basically, I moved my leg about 2 inches back, and 1 inch up, and it's been a whole new world since then.
In the snaffle, I had to use more hand than I like and than I have to use with other horses because of her initial training, and tendency to become heavy. In the double, I find that I have to use a LOT less hand, which I like, but is taking some time to get used to. For once she wasn't interested in spooking in the corners because she was so distracted by the bridle. It will be interesting to see how she progresses with it.
I also realized that the spooking decreases when I properly put my leg on her, and I mean really put it on her, which I wasn't doing before. I was making her forward, but not putting my leg on her. How can that be? I realized because she's so short (15.3 hands), I don't have my legs on her like I do on taller horses. Putting my leg on her now is an exercise in origami, since I have to fold myself to make my legs fit. I'm 5'10". However, when I do properly fold myself and keep my leg on her, she has much less opportunity to spook, because the spooking (i.e. lack of throughness) originated with her swinging her haunches. Lose the haunches, lose the throughness. Basically, I moved my leg about 2 inches back, and 1 inch up, and it's been a whole new world since then.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
July 2, 2008
The difference between understanding concepts intellectually based on reasonable extrapolation and really understanding those same concepts through physical experience is an event that's always amazed me. I've found that a wide berth divides those two levels of knowledge, and when I'm broadsided with the profundity of that realization it's sort of like being slapped with a wet trout.
I've been riding 3 horses lately: Nic, the Grand Prix Schoolmaster (GP), and a green Fresian mare, named Whinny, that a friend (who is, in my opinion, shall we say, overconfident in my training skills) has placed under my tutelage. In addition to these three musketeers, I ride a few other horses said friend has in training. The difference in each of these rides is not negligible, in fact it boarders on manic.
We've been working on Nic's canter lately, as well as her half pass and shoulder in at the trot. A months ago, she could barely do a 20m circle at a good canter. By good, I mean in self-carriage, light in the bridle, and with at least 50% of her weight on her hind end. This week we commenced broadening the scope of her work by attempting canter on the rail. We achieved this by asking for the canter and asking for shoulder fore down the long side, and preparing for the next long side by asking for flexion in the corners. The corners serve a very important function, in all three gaits, by allowing for time to re-establish throughness. In other words, the natural bend that will occur in the corners, by virtue of the fact that a corner is part of a tight 10m circle, lends itself instinctively to setting up throughness for the next long side.
Flexion, and therefore proper throughness, is the result of bending the horse through the barrel with the seat while positioning the neck towards the inside with the reins and ensuring the horse maintains the same contact on both reins even though she is bent. With Nic, this is hard to achieve, namely because she is stiff initially, thanks to piss-poor training before I restarted her this time last year. She is stiff, so bending's hard, so she gets spooky to try to get out of work, and then the process becomes cyclical. Let's face it, my knowledge of dressage can fill a wet paper bag, so there was no way I could address this on my own with any hopes of the same results as we've achieved at my current training facility.
Originally when I brought Nic to our new training facility (NTF), her right canter needed a lot of work. There was no jump, and she was not through and connected, so effectively she had a 4 beat canter, instead of the required 3 beat canter. Her left canter was a pure 3 beat, but was not through enough. Now, her right canter is stronger than her left canter, mainly because she uses her left leg more than her right leg, so her left leg is stronger.
Yesterday, when we began cantering around the arena, we did ok to the right, but to the left she broke the gait half way down the first long side. Part of that was because we did not have enough speed, and part of it was because she braced against the bit (which is the result of not having enough speed). Today we got around the arena successfully in both directions, although it is still very hard for her.
I've been riding 3 horses lately: Nic, the Grand Prix Schoolmaster (GP), and a green Fresian mare, named Whinny, that a friend (who is, in my opinion, shall we say, overconfident in my training skills) has placed under my tutelage. In addition to these three musketeers, I ride a few other horses said friend has in training. The difference in each of these rides is not negligible, in fact it boarders on manic.
We've been working on Nic's canter lately, as well as her half pass and shoulder in at the trot. A months ago, she could barely do a 20m circle at a good canter. By good, I mean in self-carriage, light in the bridle, and with at least 50% of her weight on her hind end. This week we commenced broadening the scope of her work by attempting canter on the rail. We achieved this by asking for the canter and asking for shoulder fore down the long side, and preparing for the next long side by asking for flexion in the corners. The corners serve a very important function, in all three gaits, by allowing for time to re-establish throughness. In other words, the natural bend that will occur in the corners, by virtue of the fact that a corner is part of a tight 10m circle, lends itself instinctively to setting up throughness for the next long side.
Flexion, and therefore proper throughness, is the result of bending the horse through the barrel with the seat while positioning the neck towards the inside with the reins and ensuring the horse maintains the same contact on both reins even though she is bent. With Nic, this is hard to achieve, namely because she is stiff initially, thanks to piss-poor training before I restarted her this time last year. She is stiff, so bending's hard, so she gets spooky to try to get out of work, and then the process becomes cyclical. Let's face it, my knowledge of dressage can fill a wet paper bag, so there was no way I could address this on my own with any hopes of the same results as we've achieved at my current training facility.
Originally when I brought Nic to our new training facility (NTF), her right canter needed a lot of work. There was no jump, and she was not through and connected, so effectively she had a 4 beat canter, instead of the required 3 beat canter. Her left canter was a pure 3 beat, but was not through enough. Now, her right canter is stronger than her left canter, mainly because she uses her left leg more than her right leg, so her left leg is stronger.
Yesterday, when we began cantering around the arena, we did ok to the right, but to the left she broke the gait half way down the first long side. Part of that was because we did not have enough speed, and part of it was because she braced against the bit (which is the result of not having enough speed). Today we got around the arena successfully in both directions, although it is still very hard for her.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
June 22, 2008
Some first attempts at medium trot. She isn't strong enough to do more than a couple steps of real thrust, and they're pretty much still on the forehand.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
June 19, 2008
I decided it was time for a video comparing canters. It's actually not that exciting, and most of the video is pretty crappy. I put music to it, which I normally wouldn't do, but the music makes an otherwise fairly boring video more interesting. I'll make a video for trot eventually.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
June 18, 2008
I'm trying to get more video, but I keep forgetting. Now that we've moved to a full-on training facility, I have less need to video as much, so I keep forgetting to bring the camera with me. The zoom on the Flip isn't as long, so the little video I've gotten has been difficult to get any updated photos from.
We finally can get around the arena to the left in a balanced, decent canter. It's only been 2 months since I brought her to the new training center, so the amount of balance and muscle that she's built, and comprehension of what's being asked of her, is pretty fast all things considered. The difference with the people at the new place is they embrace the mare's loony-ness. Instead of viewing it as a liability, they instead view it as an asset, because as she becomes more trained, she will have energy to get through the harder things being asked of her. The mare's still a complete banana, but there's light at the end of the tunnel.
This new canter is a pretty big deal. The canter is the greatest issue with her right now, because I've been told her trot is fine, that it's about a 3rd level trot. Because of the circumstances before moving her to the new place, i.e., not having any help with her whatsoever, I'm not really kicking myself about the canter. It's improving now, and, really, how am I supposed to know how to fix the canter myself (not just fix the canter, but undo previous bad training)? Like the horse, I didn't come out of the box knowing how to do this stuff, and any successes we've had have been because I've followed a logical line of thinking and have followed my own gut on issues, rather than listening to bad advice.
We've been working more on medium trot, and it's starting to come along. She's still weak, and we can only hold it for a couple strides. There are times she ignores my leg, so out comes the whip, which I don't really have to use that much, just hold. Maybe in a couple months she will be strong enough to hold the medium for longer than a couple strides.
The other nice thing is she's started to push more towards the bridle. She still has a lot of dumbass moments where she spooks at nothing, but when she's concentrating she does well.
I've gotten lucky, and besides the Grand Prix schoolmaster I get to ride 2 or so times a week, another pro from my barn is letting me ride some of her horses she has for training. Some are 3rd level, some are very green, but it's nice to be able to ride all different kinds of horses. I've gotten lucky because she's having an influx of business, and could use an extra rider. When I moved Nic, I was initially concerned with the cost of everything, but considering all the extras I've gotten, it's actually kind of a bargain. This is sort of beyond taking my riding to the next level, and more like skipping a bunch of levels.
We finally can get around the arena to the left in a balanced, decent canter. It's only been 2 months since I brought her to the new training center, so the amount of balance and muscle that she's built, and comprehension of what's being asked of her, is pretty fast all things considered. The difference with the people at the new place is they embrace the mare's loony-ness. Instead of viewing it as a liability, they instead view it as an asset, because as she becomes more trained, she will have energy to get through the harder things being asked of her. The mare's still a complete banana, but there's light at the end of the tunnel.
This new canter is a pretty big deal. The canter is the greatest issue with her right now, because I've been told her trot is fine, that it's about a 3rd level trot. Because of the circumstances before moving her to the new place, i.e., not having any help with her whatsoever, I'm not really kicking myself about the canter. It's improving now, and, really, how am I supposed to know how to fix the canter myself (not just fix the canter, but undo previous bad training)? Like the horse, I didn't come out of the box knowing how to do this stuff, and any successes we've had have been because I've followed a logical line of thinking and have followed my own gut on issues, rather than listening to bad advice.
We've been working more on medium trot, and it's starting to come along. She's still weak, and we can only hold it for a couple strides. There are times she ignores my leg, so out comes the whip, which I don't really have to use that much, just hold. Maybe in a couple months she will be strong enough to hold the medium for longer than a couple strides.
The other nice thing is she's started to push more towards the bridle. She still has a lot of dumbass moments where she spooks at nothing, but when she's concentrating she does well.
I've gotten lucky, and besides the Grand Prix schoolmaster I get to ride 2 or so times a week, another pro from my barn is letting me ride some of her horses she has for training. Some are 3rd level, some are very green, but it's nice to be able to ride all different kinds of horses. I've gotten lucky because she's having an influx of business, and could use an extra rider. When I moved Nic, I was initially concerned with the cost of everything, but considering all the extras I've gotten, it's actually kind of a bargain. This is sort of beyond taking my riding to the next level, and more like skipping a bunch of levels.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
June 5, 2008
Random stuff:
Nic's right lead canter is getting better, less runny and more on the hocks. She's been leaning on the left rein in left lead canter, and it's caused her to lose her connection. This is because I'm losing my outside rein (right rein), probably because my arm is moving forward and not staying still at my side. She's been harder to bend to the left, which is a pain in the ass because she used to be supple on the left and harder to bend to the right. I've been told her left lead looks fine, but I'm feeling the leaning issue and I want to stop it before it gets worse. Her right lead is starting to look like her left lead, and overall the canter is starting to have more jump, and is more on her hind legs.
Her working trot is fine, and now we are starting to get her more fit to do longer stretches of medium trot. This is done by asking for the medium for a few steps, and before she loses herself and starts running, bringing her back to a working trot, and then asking for the medium again for a couple steps. I've been told my mission is to build up her strength to do medium trot for longer periods, and that it may take a few months.
Nic's right lead canter is getting better, less runny and more on the hocks. She's been leaning on the left rein in left lead canter, and it's caused her to lose her connection. This is because I'm losing my outside rein (right rein), probably because my arm is moving forward and not staying still at my side. She's been harder to bend to the left, which is a pain in the ass because she used to be supple on the left and harder to bend to the right. I've been told her left lead looks fine, but I'm feeling the leaning issue and I want to stop it before it gets worse. Her right lead is starting to look like her left lead, and overall the canter is starting to have more jump, and is more on her hind legs.
Her working trot is fine, and now we are starting to get her more fit to do longer stretches of medium trot. This is done by asking for the medium for a few steps, and before she loses herself and starts running, bringing her back to a working trot, and then asking for the medium again for a couple steps. I've been told my mission is to build up her strength to do medium trot for longer periods, and that it may take a few months.
Friday, May 30, 2008
May 30, 2008
Nothing is as explanatory of human sexuality as a broodmare. Because horses don’t have the usual American complexes about social modesty (what do you expect from a creature that runs around naked all the time?), and because they don’t have the same self-protective walls as people, their behavior is unashamedly obvious. As with everything, an extreme example highlights the subtly of a subject, and the peculiarities of human sexuality become embarrassingly spotlighted as I observe Nic and her two new boyfriends.
A broodmare’s entire purpose in life, the very essence of her identity, is about foaling, and, by extrapolation, that particular event that must occur to ensure there’s a reason for a foaling in the first place. Nicole is the Equus caballus equivalent of a gum-chewing, glitter-wearing, just-stops-short-of-g-string-hot-pants, stiletto-strapped, Hollywood Boulevard club girl, except she’s even more obvious in her intent. As a broodmare-come-dressage horse, Nic naturally tends to forget herself in order to heed that urgent call of the wild—yes, sex is constantly on her brain, evidenced by the poor males who are beside themselves from pheromone-ish delight.
Unfortunately for her admirers, the mare doesn’t quite reciprocate, and instead manifests that subtle cocktail of sentiments that only an American female can pull off: triumphant frigidity swirled with earthy curiosity. Only a woman can successfully stir up intrigues of the Marriage of Figaro variety; only a woman can be as ruthless as Caligula when it comes to passion. Nicole accomplishes both with the unparalleled dexterity of a samurai in heat.
The mare taunts her boyfriends, siren-like, unhesitating—nuzzling them, seducing them through validation, touching noses and blowing into their nostrils (the equine equivalent of kissing), only to wheel around, indignant at the intimacy, executing their masculine bravery Vlad the Impaler-style. For extra emphasis, so her boyfriends know she means business, mister, she adds an extra kick to the walls of her stall, like a can-can dancer on crack.
Rejected, and with horsey egos bruised, her suitors relent, only to fall victim of the 3-second-long equine memory, and begin the process all over again. Rinse and repeat as needed.
A broodmare’s entire purpose in life, the very essence of her identity, is about foaling, and, by extrapolation, that particular event that must occur to ensure there’s a reason for a foaling in the first place. Nicole is the Equus caballus equivalent of a gum-chewing, glitter-wearing, just-stops-short-of-g-string-hot-pants, stiletto-strapped, Hollywood Boulevard club girl, except she’s even more obvious in her intent. As a broodmare-come-dressage horse, Nic naturally tends to forget herself in order to heed that urgent call of the wild—yes, sex is constantly on her brain, evidenced by the poor males who are beside themselves from pheromone-ish delight.
Unfortunately for her admirers, the mare doesn’t quite reciprocate, and instead manifests that subtle cocktail of sentiments that only an American female can pull off: triumphant frigidity swirled with earthy curiosity. Only a woman can successfully stir up intrigues of the Marriage of Figaro variety; only a woman can be as ruthless as Caligula when it comes to passion. Nicole accomplishes both with the unparalleled dexterity of a samurai in heat.
The mare taunts her boyfriends, siren-like, unhesitating—nuzzling them, seducing them through validation, touching noses and blowing into their nostrils (the equine equivalent of kissing), only to wheel around, indignant at the intimacy, executing their masculine bravery Vlad the Impaler-style. For extra emphasis, so her boyfriends know she means business, mister, she adds an extra kick to the walls of her stall, like a can-can dancer on crack.
Rejected, and with horsey egos bruised, her suitors relent, only to fall victim of the 3-second-long equine memory, and begin the process all over again. Rinse and repeat as needed.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
In Which Nicole Manifests Her Destiny: May 10, 2008
Nothing about the United States of America is as overwhelming as the different options that prosperity begets. In a country where the only real sacred cow is the First Amendment, a single cohesive force just doesn’t exist. For every opinion expressed, you’ll hear a corollary dissent as well, which isn’t exactly a conducive breeding ground for cohesive thought.
Americans, citizens of a country with a history of under 250 years (shorter than the House of Plantagenet ruled England) and warmed by the embers of Mother Constitution, are in the unique position of having to invent overarching American ideals—ideals of gender, justice, inalienable rights, moral absolutes, self-worth, take your pick—rewriting and reinventing as desired an endlessly-reincarnating Playbill for the Western Stage. A country with no past, where the defining hallmark is that one can start anew, means the future is wide-open for those who wish to Manifest their Destiny.
Medieval Europe had the Virgin Mary to unite individuals to a common cause, India had Gandhi, and so forth, but I’m pretty sure the last time an overwhelming societal goal pulsed a rumba in the collective American heart was around the time of the Boston Tea Party, and we weren’t even Americans then. At a utopian best, Americans today can expect, on a theoretical level, to have a cohesive thought for each individual microcosm of our society. Let’s be realistic, though—no two Americans’ thoughts really coincide; our collective thoughts fan out, like bleeding watercolors, like octopus ink in the sea. Even the Mormon church, which is a religion of American invention, has its internal squabbles, splintering every so often.
As a nation chock full of free thinkers, Americans extrapolate in their own unique ways the secrets of life, in some sort of Rebel Yell or Ghetto Magic, finding Grace in even the most crooked of stairways. I, along with thousands of other Americans, of course, have found Grace on the back of a horse, riding up towards heaven.
Today’s exegesis centers on the Book of Canter Pirouette, that most collected of canter exercises, which I learned this week on the schoolmaster I’ve been riding. The rhythm of the movement pulsates like Starry Night stuck in honey, the electricity of collection—strength made vivid by captivity—as dynamic to the dressage rider as the cross to Medieval Christians. Common sense dictates I would feel a very collected canter, but the amount of loft in the gait was unexpected. I kept using my inside rein too much, losing the travers component of the pirouette, and instead doing a volte.
The purpose of schooling the movement, aside from learning the movement itself, is to illustrate how the horse comes through from behind and into the bridle, and how the rider needs to position themselves to catch and recycle that energy so that the horse becomes an amalgam of power and restraint—the elusive Holy Grail of lower-level dressage.
As a high priestess in the Cult of Plain Language, I spend most of my day attempting to understand complex legal, scientific, and IT concepts, breaking down those concepts to their skeletal frame, and then writing about the same concepts in language accessible to the person with a 6th grade education. Because of this, it’s in my nature to intimately analyze concepts I come across—once you define a concept, you earn a certain measure of ownership over the idea.
That being said, understanding this information about the amount of control required for a pirouette helps with training Nic. The extreme example, in this case the pirouette, better exhibits the idea of how to coax better balance from Nic on a much smaller scale; the required degree of balance goes up and down as the rider asks for more collection. Once I understand how to get a schooled horse to put more weight behind, I can help Nic start to do the same.
Nic’s canter is something these new trainers want to improve. Her canter is too flat and needs more jump, until it’s like a rear, hop, and a jump. It’s hard work for both me and her. Nic has to hold herself, and stay on her hindend more. She gets better every day, though, and now her canter is starting to become soft and rhythmic. There still isn’t much power to it, but as her strength builds, the power will be easier to add.
I feel like I’m starting to get my horse back as she recovers from the confusion of the clinic. I had managed to stop her inverting and pulling before moving her again, but the clinic caused that habit to resurface. She didn’t resist connecting to the bit today, a trait that’s been missing the past few rides.
Americans, citizens of a country with a history of under 250 years (shorter than the House of Plantagenet ruled England) and warmed by the embers of Mother Constitution, are in the unique position of having to invent overarching American ideals—ideals of gender, justice, inalienable rights, moral absolutes, self-worth, take your pick—rewriting and reinventing as desired an endlessly-reincarnating Playbill for the Western Stage. A country with no past, where the defining hallmark is that one can start anew, means the future is wide-open for those who wish to Manifest their Destiny.
Medieval Europe had the Virgin Mary to unite individuals to a common cause, India had Gandhi, and so forth, but I’m pretty sure the last time an overwhelming societal goal pulsed a rumba in the collective American heart was around the time of the Boston Tea Party, and we weren’t even Americans then. At a utopian best, Americans today can expect, on a theoretical level, to have a cohesive thought for each individual microcosm of our society. Let’s be realistic, though—no two Americans’ thoughts really coincide; our collective thoughts fan out, like bleeding watercolors, like octopus ink in the sea. Even the Mormon church, which is a religion of American invention, has its internal squabbles, splintering every so often.
As a nation chock full of free thinkers, Americans extrapolate in their own unique ways the secrets of life, in some sort of Rebel Yell or Ghetto Magic, finding Grace in even the most crooked of stairways. I, along with thousands of other Americans, of course, have found Grace on the back of a horse, riding up towards heaven.
Today’s exegesis centers on the Book of Canter Pirouette, that most collected of canter exercises, which I learned this week on the schoolmaster I’ve been riding. The rhythm of the movement pulsates like Starry Night stuck in honey, the electricity of collection—strength made vivid by captivity—as dynamic to the dressage rider as the cross to Medieval Christians. Common sense dictates I would feel a very collected canter, but the amount of loft in the gait was unexpected. I kept using my inside rein too much, losing the travers component of the pirouette, and instead doing a volte.
The purpose of schooling the movement, aside from learning the movement itself, is to illustrate how the horse comes through from behind and into the bridle, and how the rider needs to position themselves to catch and recycle that energy so that the horse becomes an amalgam of power and restraint—the elusive Holy Grail of lower-level dressage.
As a high priestess in the Cult of Plain Language, I spend most of my day attempting to understand complex legal, scientific, and IT concepts, breaking down those concepts to their skeletal frame, and then writing about the same concepts in language accessible to the person with a 6th grade education. Because of this, it’s in my nature to intimately analyze concepts I come across—once you define a concept, you earn a certain measure of ownership over the idea.
That being said, understanding this information about the amount of control required for a pirouette helps with training Nic. The extreme example, in this case the pirouette, better exhibits the idea of how to coax better balance from Nic on a much smaller scale; the required degree of balance goes up and down as the rider asks for more collection. Once I understand how to get a schooled horse to put more weight behind, I can help Nic start to do the same.
Nic’s canter is something these new trainers want to improve. Her canter is too flat and needs more jump, until it’s like a rear, hop, and a jump. It’s hard work for both me and her. Nic has to hold herself, and stay on her hindend more. She gets better every day, though, and now her canter is starting to become soft and rhythmic. There still isn’t much power to it, but as her strength builds, the power will be easier to add.
I feel like I’m starting to get my horse back as she recovers from the confusion of the clinic. I had managed to stop her inverting and pulling before moving her again, but the clinic caused that habit to resurface. She didn’t resist connecting to the bit today, a trait that’s been missing the past few rides.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Nicole, Henry Miller, and Istanbul: May 2, 2008
Henry Miller once wrote: “A year ago, six months ago, I thought I was an artist. I no longer think about it, I am. Everything that was literature has fallen from me.” He was describing his state of mind at a low point in his life, and how he let go of his literary pretensions, and just focused on his own writing. Out of that frame of mind came Tropic of Cancer, one of the most original works of the 20th century.
Now, I don’t know a lot about being an artist, but I think what Miller suggests in his statement is that at some point you stop thinking about what you want to be, or about the trappings of accomplishment, and just get down to work. Over time you find yourself so involved in your work that you no longer think about what you’re doing, but rather just work, and work, and work, until it scrambles your brain and then—Desire, expectation, concern, they become ash. Just grey matter, scattered to the Santa Ana winds. From that cogitative, and frankly lonely, Nirvana comes you—you are your work, your work is you, and the energy just goes round and round in a blender until the two can’t be unscrambled. You simultaneously forget your work, and can’t forget it, because your efforts have become so internalized they become a matter of identity.
I think, therefore I am? No, René, I work, therefore I am.
These days I’m so dissatisfied with the state of dressage in America. My past few posts have been about this same subject, but bear with me through this phase because I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the sad realization that to get anywhere in dressage requires a rider to be extremely mentally independent. Sui generis being the American condition, Nic and I have found several times that self-invention seems to be the safest yellow brick road to success.
I learned as a kid the skills necessary to achieve success in an athletic venue, and have achieved high levels in other sports before I took up dressage, but the type of mental toughness required in dressage is different. In both figure skating and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu the mores in each sport was such that the student could trust that the trainer had the student’s best interests in mind, or at least wasn’t imparting information that was half-assed or wholly self-promoting. Like Theodora of Constantinople on the night Justinian almost abdicated as emperor, the American dressage rider’s gots to grow a pair and maintain a strong sense of identity in the face of overwhelming pressure to do otherwise.
Honestly, though, the level of skill and theoretical knowledge required in both figure skating and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is simply not comparable to that of dressage. The theory and finesse is much more involved in dressage, and the basics can be understood and taught to the student on so many levels. Maybe that’s because all dressage really is about is refinement of the basics. In figure skating, there’s only so many ways to teach a jump, and if you suck at it, as long as you land it, that’s effectively all that matters. There isn’t the same building on basics from an intellectual standpoint – to go from a double to a triple, you just add an extra rotation. You can’t have the same relaxed approach to dressage and expect to get anywhere.
It’s part of the human condition, to shed beliefs like metaphorical snakeskin: when “everything that was” falls away. Somehow, with all this, comes an inconsolable sense of loss. I’ve found that I have to keep my agenda in sharp focus and constantly assess the information I’m given, testing the information for purity, weighing it on the scales of common sense like a trader at the Grand Bazaar. My knowledge base is constantly expanding, causing fissures in the system to become more blatant.
Nic and I went to another clinic this week, and I believe it was an unmitigated disaster. Postmodern literary theory espouses that everything—ideas, beliefs, emotions, and yes, teachings—is applicable in the moment, but not necessarily at any other point in time, and boy did this clinic illustrate that idea. The irony is that this clinician has been helpful with her, but advice that helped so much in the past, when Nic was stiff, is now passé—Nic is no longer stiff and resistant. We have the very basics—contact, submission, basic swung—covered. We are turning our horizons to gait and muscle development now, and this clinic was a step back for us. Nic came back sore, tense, and lacking self-carriage. There isn’t the same desire to build energy into the bridle. The training we’ve been doing with her is undone, and I’m frustrated.
Now, I don’t know a lot about being an artist, but I think what Miller suggests in his statement is that at some point you stop thinking about what you want to be, or about the trappings of accomplishment, and just get down to work. Over time you find yourself so involved in your work that you no longer think about what you’re doing, but rather just work, and work, and work, until it scrambles your brain and then—Desire, expectation, concern, they become ash. Just grey matter, scattered to the Santa Ana winds. From that cogitative, and frankly lonely, Nirvana comes you—you are your work, your work is you, and the energy just goes round and round in a blender until the two can’t be unscrambled. You simultaneously forget your work, and can’t forget it, because your efforts have become so internalized they become a matter of identity.
I think, therefore I am? No, René, I work, therefore I am.
These days I’m so dissatisfied with the state of dressage in America. My past few posts have been about this same subject, but bear with me through this phase because I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the sad realization that to get anywhere in dressage requires a rider to be extremely mentally independent. Sui generis being the American condition, Nic and I have found several times that self-invention seems to be the safest yellow brick road to success.
I learned as a kid the skills necessary to achieve success in an athletic venue, and have achieved high levels in other sports before I took up dressage, but the type of mental toughness required in dressage is different. In both figure skating and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu the mores in each sport was such that the student could trust that the trainer had the student’s best interests in mind, or at least wasn’t imparting information that was half-assed or wholly self-promoting. Like Theodora of Constantinople on the night Justinian almost abdicated as emperor, the American dressage rider’s gots to grow a pair and maintain a strong sense of identity in the face of overwhelming pressure to do otherwise.
Honestly, though, the level of skill and theoretical knowledge required in both figure skating and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu is simply not comparable to that of dressage. The theory and finesse is much more involved in dressage, and the basics can be understood and taught to the student on so many levels. Maybe that’s because all dressage really is about is refinement of the basics. In figure skating, there’s only so many ways to teach a jump, and if you suck at it, as long as you land it, that’s effectively all that matters. There isn’t the same building on basics from an intellectual standpoint – to go from a double to a triple, you just add an extra rotation. You can’t have the same relaxed approach to dressage and expect to get anywhere.
It’s part of the human condition, to shed beliefs like metaphorical snakeskin: when “everything that was” falls away. Somehow, with all this, comes an inconsolable sense of loss. I’ve found that I have to keep my agenda in sharp focus and constantly assess the information I’m given, testing the information for purity, weighing it on the scales of common sense like a trader at the Grand Bazaar. My knowledge base is constantly expanding, causing fissures in the system to become more blatant.
Nic and I went to another clinic this week, and I believe it was an unmitigated disaster. Postmodern literary theory espouses that everything—ideas, beliefs, emotions, and yes, teachings—is applicable in the moment, but not necessarily at any other point in time, and boy did this clinic illustrate that idea. The irony is that this clinician has been helpful with her, but advice that helped so much in the past, when Nic was stiff, is now passé—Nic is no longer stiff and resistant. We have the very basics—contact, submission, basic swung—covered. We are turning our horizons to gait and muscle development now, and this clinic was a step back for us. Nic came back sore, tense, and lacking self-carriage. There isn’t the same desire to build energy into the bridle. The training we’ve been doing with her is undone, and I’m frustrated.
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...
Monday, January 14, 2008
The Intentional Affair: January 14, 2008
I first learned the concepts of non-violence in my marriage. - Mohandas K. Gandhi
I think a partnership with a dressage horse is the only partnership in the world where trust is almost guaranteed to improve by going outside the bounds of the existing relationship. In any other type of partnership, outside influence would likely change the dynamics, and trust would diminish for a certain period of time, if not forever. For example, when businesses include an additional partner, the outcome is speculative at best. Sooner or later, someone is probably going to get pissed off, take their ball, and go home. Similarly, how many wives have wearily admitted to their best friend concerns of husbandly infidelity?
In complete contrast, one of the best ways to help a horse in training is to have as many “extra-marital” affairs as possible, gaining more experience with other horses, which seasons and deepens the existing relationship and illuminates the broader spectrum of colors that layer a horse’s personality.
To this end, I’ve started taking lessons on a 4th level schoolmaster, with the hope that I can improve myself more, which will help me train Nicole more effectively. Of course, Le Grand Olde Schoolmaster showed me every flaw in my seat, and thanks to Special K’s videoing, I now have evidence that my legs at the canter are every which way except correct. I’ve tried to rectify this when working with Nicole, and although I’m not always successful, I’ve found that at times that I interfere with her less, and when she goes to invert and pull, I’m able to better maintain my position and correct her. This advantage, coupled with her burgeoning self-carriage, is slowly transforming my horse into something pleasant to ride.
The additional advantage to my new relationship with Le Grand Olde Schoolmaster is that I get to practice higher level moves that I currently can’t work on with Nicole.
I think a partnership with a dressage horse is the only partnership in the world where trust is almost guaranteed to improve by going outside the bounds of the existing relationship. In any other type of partnership, outside influence would likely change the dynamics, and trust would diminish for a certain period of time, if not forever. For example, when businesses include an additional partner, the outcome is speculative at best. Sooner or later, someone is probably going to get pissed off, take their ball, and go home. Similarly, how many wives have wearily admitted to their best friend concerns of husbandly infidelity?
In complete contrast, one of the best ways to help a horse in training is to have as many “extra-marital” affairs as possible, gaining more experience with other horses, which seasons and deepens the existing relationship and illuminates the broader spectrum of colors that layer a horse’s personality.
To this end, I’ve started taking lessons on a 4th level schoolmaster, with the hope that I can improve myself more, which will help me train Nicole more effectively. Of course, Le Grand Olde Schoolmaster showed me every flaw in my seat, and thanks to Special K’s videoing, I now have evidence that my legs at the canter are every which way except correct. I’ve tried to rectify this when working with Nicole, and although I’m not always successful, I’ve found that at times that I interfere with her less, and when she goes to invert and pull, I’m able to better maintain my position and correct her. This advantage, coupled with her burgeoning self-carriage, is slowly transforming my horse into something pleasant to ride.
The additional advantage to my new relationship with Le Grand Olde Schoolmaster is that I get to practice higher level moves that I currently can’t work on with Nicole.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
January 9, 2008
I just want to quickly recap what's been going on with Nicole the past few weeks. For my part, I've had some issues at work, which is why I haven't been updating as much, and with the holidays, etc. Since the Walter Zettl clinic, I've focused on making Nic more connected over her topline, and connecting her hind quarters to the bridle with minimal fussing with her mouth. The basic requirement I've been asking of her is to reach to the bit, regardless of whether we're doing "long and low" or working in a higher frame.
I’ve started to apply the same theory to Nicole’s training as current parenting philosophy dictates: Give choices, but make those choices such that the child makes the right decision. As far as Nicole goes, my rule has been when she loses concentration, tries spooking, or becomes stiff (and it’s not from fatigue), her work gets harder and I either drive her forward or turn her onto a circle as the situation dictates. After about the first 20 minutes, she focuses fairly consistently and is looser.
Originally, and for the first 3-4 days after the clinic, I drove her forward until she started to seek the bit. This proved effective, and after the first 3-4 days (which were very long rides) she began to seek the bit on her own, and now understands what is required of her. I have to admit that not all of the idea to drive her forward came from the clinic; part of the idea was echoed by Alois Podhajsky in his book My Horses, My Teachers. Of course she isn't perfect all the time (especially when she’s on an Adequan low) but overall she is more willing and more supple than she was before the clinic.
The consequence of driving her forward until she sought the bit was that she, for a few days, was unbalanced and a rushing a bit. The circles, while suppling her, also helped rebalance her and slow her down. After a few days she found her own balance, and unless she is tense, rushing isn't much of an issue anymore. This has allowed her to develop more swung and to start swinging her back. The best part is that I don't feel like I have to hold her anymore, and I can just ask her to flex over her topline as needed. In other words, I don't have to micromanage, but instead can just make recommendations as needed.
These exercises have also started to translate into a consistently better canter, where she is giving over her topline and pushing into the bridle at the canter. I've started alternating between stretchy canter and cantering in a higher (i.e., Training/First level) frame. She's starting to understand stretchy canter, and can do it well at times. I'm finding that I have a harder time letting the reins go and not micromanaging the entire time we canter. She tends to be stiffer going to the right - she doesn't like to connect to her left rein right now. I'm trying to correct that now in the trot - her canter isn't stable enough to try to correct it too much in the canter (leads to too much rein activity on my part since she's more unbalanced than she is in trot).
I’ve started to apply the same theory to Nicole’s training as current parenting philosophy dictates: Give choices, but make those choices such that the child makes the right decision. As far as Nicole goes, my rule has been when she loses concentration, tries spooking, or becomes stiff (and it’s not from fatigue), her work gets harder and I either drive her forward or turn her onto a circle as the situation dictates. After about the first 20 minutes, she focuses fairly consistently and is looser.
Originally, and for the first 3-4 days after the clinic, I drove her forward until she started to seek the bit. This proved effective, and after the first 3-4 days (which were very long rides) she began to seek the bit on her own, and now understands what is required of her. I have to admit that not all of the idea to drive her forward came from the clinic; part of the idea was echoed by Alois Podhajsky in his book My Horses, My Teachers. Of course she isn't perfect all the time (especially when she’s on an Adequan low) but overall she is more willing and more supple than she was before the clinic.
The consequence of driving her forward until she sought the bit was that she, for a few days, was unbalanced and a rushing a bit. The circles, while suppling her, also helped rebalance her and slow her down. After a few days she found her own balance, and unless she is tense, rushing isn't much of an issue anymore. This has allowed her to develop more swung and to start swinging her back. The best part is that I don't feel like I have to hold her anymore, and I can just ask her to flex over her topline as needed. In other words, I don't have to micromanage, but instead can just make recommendations as needed.
These exercises have also started to translate into a consistently better canter, where she is giving over her topline and pushing into the bridle at the canter. I've started alternating between stretchy canter and cantering in a higher (i.e., Training/First level) frame. She's starting to understand stretchy canter, and can do it well at times. I'm finding that I have a harder time letting the reins go and not micromanaging the entire time we canter. She tends to be stiffer going to the right - she doesn't like to connect to her left rein right now. I'm trying to correct that now in the trot - her canter isn't stable enough to try to correct it too much in the canter (leads to too much rein activity on my part since she's more unbalanced than she is in trot).
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