Something that has been hard for me to reconcile is the understanding that trainers, with their knowledge more vast than my own, still can be limited in their desire to see beyond the immediate and obvious. I suppose everyone in some way exhibits that quality, but when you look to trainers for advice, and receive advice that is inconsistent with the evidence in front of you, with no logical explanation for the difference, the discrepancy is unnerving to say the least. I'm a person that looks at an issue from every angle, weighing the raw data as well as the possibilities one can postulate based on that data.
As an undergraduate, the first educational lessons I received taught me that Truth, and Truth’s bastard child, Opinion, are spider webs—silken, sticky, dangerous as a double-edged sword, as scarce and transparent as the Hope diamond, yet ephemeral and easily torn down. I struggled for a while with this concept and its subsequent conclusion which is that we really know nothing for certain.
When receiving advice from trainers, it’s tempting to hide in opinion’s heroin embrace. After all, you trust your trainer’s knowledge, and it’s easier than thinking for yourself. But the sense of insecurity that derives from the conclusion that opinion is a matter of perspective forces one to look at concrete evidence to maintain sanity. Unfortunately, opinion is as a rainbow—a multi-colored image resulting from intangible light (trainer’s knowledge) reflecting off tangible water (the horse), forever seared into one’s view of rainstorms so that forgetting it is impossible, but still just an image that is never permanent.
It's been hard for me to reconcile that there are trainers out there who talk a good game, but when push comes to shove, and you look under the shiny veneer of their words, you see that sometimes there really isn't much tangible substance to their opinions at all. Over the past year, I've learned to actively question the advice I receive about Nicole, compare it to the gospel of the great masters, and, ultimately, look to the horse to tell me if the advice holds water. This is why the trainer who regurgitates from books basically holds no esteem with me, regardless of background; I can read also, and they aren't saying anything I can't discern on my own (this doesn't apply to those trainers universally agreed upon as being a master, since they wrote the book, so to speak).
Part of my absence from this blog has been because I've been trying to make sense about the varying opinions I have received regarding Nic. Her talent hasn't been up for debate; every trainer I have taken Nicole to has agreed that she is talented. What has been questioned, however, is how far her temperament will allow her to go. Relaxation being the key to successful dressage, and with Nicole lacking relaxation, I've received varying opinions about her ability to become an FEI horse, and over the past couple weeks have sought to resolve my own opinion about the matter.
This week I took Nicole to a clinic with Walter Zettl to seek his opinion on Nicole. You will recall that Mr. Zettl has seen Nicole in the past, and has given me a favorable opinion of her abilities. What I did not ask him in the past, however, is how he feels her temperament will affect her ability to progress up to the highest levels of dressage. I made sure to ask this time, including information about her age and temperament, and he again gave me a favorable opinion of her abilities, citing that her temperament will be the better for more training, and her age has nothing to do with her ability to progress.
Most importantly, however, he gave us some exercises to help loosen Nicole up, which in turn helps her suppleness. I repeated those exercises, and although Nic was a little over tempo, I had more success with her being loose in her muscles than I have had in the past few weeks. She displays more swung, and as a consequence, her tension has subsided.
One of my biggest issues with Nic is my tendency to default to cramming her between the reins and her hind end; in other words, not letting the energy flow through her. I blamed it, the past few months, on her tension, and claimed that she built a wall that made it hard to recycle that energy.
My past assertion was just wrong. This isn't to say that her tension doesn't contribute to building a wall, however, my approach to eliminate that tension just was not correct. Mr. Zettl said that when the horse is tense, give the reins. I was willing to do as he said in our lesson, but didn't really believe that if I gave the reins, the horse wouldn't spook every time she got the chance. Well, she didn't spook, and I realized, looking at the video, that when something bothered her, she looked at it for a few seconds, then went back to work. The next day, around the scary door in the indoor, she looked a little longer, but the video showed that it was for no more than 2-3 strides.
The difference is this: she didn't get less nervous about the scary door, but once she was done looking at it, she was loose again. She stopped holding that tension in, as she was doing before.
I also realized the past couple weeks that she is doing much better as far as tension goes. Nicole hasn't had any real mare moments since we moved, and at the clinic we had none, even though she previously had many at that barn. I described Nicole to Mr. Zettl and the auditors as being a spooky horse, however, the mare made a liar out of me, and displayed few signs of being tense at all.
Since this clinic, I’ve been trying to resolve just WHY one trainer sees Nic as a liability and yet another perceives her as an asset, and why the evidence I see that her mind is trainable isn’t obvious to everyone. Nicole, although older, is a horse in her 2nd year of training—basically a 4 year old horse both physically and mentally. The FEI 4 year old test is effectively a Training/First level test. The FEI Young Horse tests are for gifted horses; some will successfully be able to perform that test, but most will not. Using the young horse tests as a guide, one can determine that it’s expected that a horse like Nicole, while probably not gifted, is only expected to be at Training/First level, which means 15m canter circles, 10m trot circles, and lengthenings.
Viewed through this lens, it’s hard to expect too much out of her training-wise. Most horses at her level of training, although younger, are just coming into their own. She is in the adolescence of her training, if you will. I’m the first to forget this, believe me, yet it seems others, with broader experiences, forget it also. I don’t know why.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
December 10, 2007
It's been a while. Basically, the changes that have been taking place have been so subtle and, dare I say, monotonous, that making note of them would put the reader to sleep. I've decided to start working with Nic more on her canter, as she is getting more through at the trot. This decision has been met with some, oh, shall we say, lack of enthusiasm on her end. The mare has expressed her opinion by inverting and stiffening.
I've decided, as well, to have a masseuse look at her, because sometimes she stiffens her right side to such an extent that she is just unsupple in that direction. If there is any back pain, the masseuse will find it, and if she finds nothing, then I can look to an alternate source causing her stiffness.
Reason dictates that this stiffening is just a growing pain coupled with the cold weather we've been having lately. She also has expressed signs of being in heat, which is odd given that all the world is dead from the cold, but since she is perpetually surrounded by stallions (very nicely behaved ones at that), I suppose it's inevitable.
Actually, re-reading my first paragraph, it really isn't fair to say that she is inverting and stiffening at the canter. That's not exactly what's going on. She, in my opinion, seems lovely to the right, and in both directions, actually does accept half halts fairly well. It's just that sometimes her nose is a little too far in front of the vertical going to the left and it's clear on the video that she isn't recycling her energy as well going to the left.
Yesterday we worked on 15m canter circles, and I'm surprised at how much effort it takes her to collect even that little bit. However, I remember a time, not so long ago, when I couldn't even steer her into a 15m canter circle (even a crappy one). Around last August, we went through this phase where she wasn't on the outside rein AT ALL going to the left. Asking her to create a smaller circle was impossible. Now, although they aren't always in good balance and aren't always completely through, it takes much less effort to ask for the smaller circle.
I also remember a time (as I'm sure you do as well) when we couldn't get a decent upward transition into the canter. Now, that's basically a given, and I've been told by this new trainer that her canter transitions are "very correct."
I'd say one of the bigger improvements, especially with regards to the canter, is that she does less pulling than before, and more staying on her hocks. I guess the best term is to say she is less "strung out."
I've decided, as well, to have a masseuse look at her, because sometimes she stiffens her right side to such an extent that she is just unsupple in that direction. If there is any back pain, the masseuse will find it, and if she finds nothing, then I can look to an alternate source causing her stiffness.
Reason dictates that this stiffening is just a growing pain coupled with the cold weather we've been having lately. She also has expressed signs of being in heat, which is odd given that all the world is dead from the cold, but since she is perpetually surrounded by stallions (very nicely behaved ones at that), I suppose it's inevitable.
Actually, re-reading my first paragraph, it really isn't fair to say that she is inverting and stiffening at the canter. That's not exactly what's going on. She, in my opinion, seems lovely to the right, and in both directions, actually does accept half halts fairly well. It's just that sometimes her nose is a little too far in front of the vertical going to the left and it's clear on the video that she isn't recycling her energy as well going to the left.
Yesterday we worked on 15m canter circles, and I'm surprised at how much effort it takes her to collect even that little bit. However, I remember a time, not so long ago, when I couldn't even steer her into a 15m canter circle (even a crappy one). Around last August, we went through this phase where she wasn't on the outside rein AT ALL going to the left. Asking her to create a smaller circle was impossible. Now, although they aren't always in good balance and aren't always completely through, it takes much less effort to ask for the smaller circle.
I also remember a time (as I'm sure you do as well) when we couldn't get a decent upward transition into the canter. Now, that's basically a given, and I've been told by this new trainer that her canter transitions are "very correct."
I'd say one of the bigger improvements, especially with regards to the canter, is that she does less pulling than before, and more staying on her hocks. I guess the best term is to say she is less "strung out."
Friday, November 16, 2007
Nicole, Girth Hell, and the Atlantic Tides at Normandy: November 16, 2007
When I got Nicole, I remember distinctly saying to myself "I'm not going to have a pansy-fragile-flower horse, she's going to be tough."
Ha, was that ever a delusion. As the fates would have it, I have a fragile butterfly. Nic is now off for a couple days because of a girth sore. This horse has more skin problems than I've ever seen in my life. She's on flax because of excessive dry skin; pre-flax, I would brush her and large flakes of dandruff would emerge, as grandiose and consistent as the Atlantic tides on the sand at Normandy.
She spent most of the summer scratching her belly against the ground, so that sores would appear and remain for weeks. Now that the summer is over, so is the scratching.
Currently, we are in girth hell. Nothing seems to keep her from developing these sores, and one has appeared on her belly and has direct contact with her girth. I started her with a leather girth, which aggravated an already-existent sore on her side (a little added feature when I bought her).
Enter fleece-covered elastic girth stage right, which created this current sore in less than 2 weeks. Rope girths aren't an option.
We shall try a neoprene girth next. I wish these things came in actual bodysuit material because the neoprene is too similar to plastic for my tastes.
Ha, was that ever a delusion. As the fates would have it, I have a fragile butterfly. Nic is now off for a couple days because of a girth sore. This horse has more skin problems than I've ever seen in my life. She's on flax because of excessive dry skin; pre-flax, I would brush her and large flakes of dandruff would emerge, as grandiose and consistent as the Atlantic tides on the sand at Normandy.
She spent most of the summer scratching her belly against the ground, so that sores would appear and remain for weeks. Now that the summer is over, so is the scratching.
Currently, we are in girth hell. Nothing seems to keep her from developing these sores, and one has appeared on her belly and has direct contact with her girth. I started her with a leather girth, which aggravated an already-existent sore on her side (a little added feature when I bought her).
Enter fleece-covered elastic girth stage right, which created this current sore in less than 2 weeks. Rope girths aren't an option.
We shall try a neoprene girth next. I wish these things came in actual bodysuit material because the neoprene is too similar to plastic for my tastes.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
November 9, 2007
An interesting phenomenon has occurred, which I feel deserves the undivided attention of its own post. 6 months ago I wouldn't have guessed this would occur.
Since I began slowing Nic down and making her more drivable, the mare has become, as expected, more drivable. This vehicular similarity has started to cause her to raise her withers a little, and maybe one day we'll actually start to see some shoulder freedom.
Unexpectedly, however, she has become more drivable and balanced at a faster rate at the canter than at the trot. She is softer in the mouth, and responds to quieter aids and I'm starting to feel some consistent relaxation, which wasn't there a month ago. Downward transitions are still an issue, because, however nice she is in the up transition and in the actual canter, she still braces on the down transition.
At the trot she isn't as through as nicely, and still hangs on the bit. She isn't as willing to raise her back, but a new friend showed me another way to longe her, the method to which Nic has taken a liking. The method involves taking the longe line and running it through the saddle's billet straps, on the inside of her circle, like a sort of third side rein. Nic stretches much better in this sort of contact and actually seeks the bit. The other advantage is when her attention goes elsewhere, I have an easy way to half halt her to get her attention back on me. I'm starting to think, however, that the massage therapist should be called to see if there is some sort of muscle issue in her back.
It appears as if she is starting to grow some more muscle on her withers, although I could just be imagining it.
On another note, she stopped shying at the corners of the arena with the doors (as in my last post) now that I have shut them. I think that's contributing to some of her new found relaxation (not that she's really relaxed, but is more so than before I shut those doors).
Since I began slowing Nic down and making her more drivable, the mare has become, as expected, more drivable. This vehicular similarity has started to cause her to raise her withers a little, and maybe one day we'll actually start to see some shoulder freedom.
Unexpectedly, however, she has become more drivable and balanced at a faster rate at the canter than at the trot. She is softer in the mouth, and responds to quieter aids and I'm starting to feel some consistent relaxation, which wasn't there a month ago. Downward transitions are still an issue, because, however nice she is in the up transition and in the actual canter, she still braces on the down transition.
At the trot she isn't as through as nicely, and still hangs on the bit. She isn't as willing to raise her back, but a new friend showed me another way to longe her, the method to which Nic has taken a liking. The method involves taking the longe line and running it through the saddle's billet straps, on the inside of her circle, like a sort of third side rein. Nic stretches much better in this sort of contact and actually seeks the bit. The other advantage is when her attention goes elsewhere, I have an easy way to half halt her to get her attention back on me. I'm starting to think, however, that the massage therapist should be called to see if there is some sort of muscle issue in her back.
It appears as if she is starting to grow some more muscle on her withers, although I could just be imagining it.
On another note, she stopped shying at the corners of the arena with the doors (as in my last post) now that I have shut them. I think that's contributing to some of her new found relaxation (not that she's really relaxed, but is more so than before I shut those doors).
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Nicole, ROI, and the Incidental Love Child: November 4, 2007
Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination. - Oscar Wilde
Being a quintessential American, and therefore a die-hard believer in free-market economies, I tend to look at the world with a capitalist sensibility. While dressage functions in its own solar system and typically is ill-suited for this mindset on many different levels, I regard my time with Nicole with the same concern for return on investment as Ol' John Pierpont Morgan did for his banking conquests.
The sport of dressage, being the incidental love child of the European aristocracy and the armed forces, really doesn't lend itself to the capitalist mentality for 3 reasons. Primo, capitalism in its purest form is sustained by the free thinker. Since historically neither the aristocracy nor the armed forces approve of "thinking outside the box," dressage was not born to promote the rugged individualism that sustains a free-market economy. The standard dressage uniform proves my point.
I'd like to say that this is because there's nothing new under the training sun, but in reality I think it's because dressage, like all sports, fosters a dependence on the teacher, so that the student generally doesn't feel comfortable outside of the feudal norm to make their own decisions (whether we want to admit it or not). Having participated in several sports, I feel comfortable asserting that this isn't unique to dressage, but rather typical across the athletic board.
Secundo, dressage is the only sport that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between. What began as a method to better enable one to slaughter enemies soon became the playground of the well-heeled, creating a sort of distorted monetary inflation in the equus sense. Once you've participated in dressage, your view of financial reality becomes somewhat altered. When you buy a dressage horse, you basically buy it for pleasure (i.e., sentimentalism), and any sort of financial conservatism tends to go out the window with the bathwater.
Poor Johnny Boy Morgan would turn over in his grave at the cost of horsecare, training, and shows; the ardent capitalist wouldn't approve of this sort of willy-nilly spending unless they were the seller. When you own a dressage horse, somehow it becomes reasonable to buy $20 oil to supplement your horses feed; hearing friends complain about their $1600 air ticket to India makes your eyes roll, because that was, after all, how much you spent on board and training last month; and spending $20,000 on what's effectively a pet is considered cheap.
Tertio, capitalists judge everything by "return on investment." There's an old joke that goes like this: "How do you make a small fortune in the horse business? Start with a large fortune." Horses in general just don't lend themselves to any sort of return on investment except in terms of intangibles, such as pleasure or pride. It's quite rare to actually make money on a horse; most money is made on training and lessons, which is mostly based on human labor. Any sane capitalist would regard the horse business with a jaundiced eye and avoid it like the Black Plague.
However, with regards to Nicole's training I consider return on investment very important. One of the mare's quirks is an extreme anxietal reaction to any sort of open doorway. (Note, we don't have any of these issues when schooling outside in a ring or in a field). Whether walking in hand or actually training in saddle, she tends to shy away violently from open doorways. At this new barn, this means that we can only use 2/3rds of the arena, as her particular issue with with a doorway at one end of the arena. I don't think I need to explain how ridiculous it is to only use 2/3rds of an arena.
I'm done with trying to train it out of her - the time spent making her comfortable with open doorways is time I could be spending on something more valuable, like working on balance and transitions, or God forbid, myself. Additionally, we are unlikely to be in a competition setting where an open doorway comes into play; most shows are outside.
Most importantly, however, I see it as a never-ending cycle; as soon as I get her comfortable with the doorway, someone (or some cat) will appear, and we will be back to square one. If someone else wants to take a shot at training this out of her, then have at it, but I think it's pointless. Instead, I plan to just close doors as I can, and hopefully she will forget that there ever was an opening in the wall altogether. I did so yesterday, and she was marginally better after a few rotations around the ring.
Perhaps someone with more time and patience could train her out of it, and to that guy I take my hat off. But I think the return on that investment is too little compared to the other things I can work with her on. J.P. Morgan would be proud.
Being a quintessential American, and therefore a die-hard believer in free-market economies, I tend to look at the world with a capitalist sensibility. While dressage functions in its own solar system and typically is ill-suited for this mindset on many different levels, I regard my time with Nicole with the same concern for return on investment as Ol' John Pierpont Morgan did for his banking conquests.
The sport of dressage, being the incidental love child of the European aristocracy and the armed forces, really doesn't lend itself to the capitalist mentality for 3 reasons. Primo, capitalism in its purest form is sustained by the free thinker. Since historically neither the aristocracy nor the armed forces approve of "thinking outside the box," dressage was not born to promote the rugged individualism that sustains a free-market economy. The standard dressage uniform proves my point.
I'd like to say that this is because there's nothing new under the training sun, but in reality I think it's because dressage, like all sports, fosters a dependence on the teacher, so that the student generally doesn't feel comfortable outside of the feudal norm to make their own decisions (whether we want to admit it or not). Having participated in several sports, I feel comfortable asserting that this isn't unique to dressage, but rather typical across the athletic board.
Secundo, dressage is the only sport that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between. What began as a method to better enable one to slaughter enemies soon became the playground of the well-heeled, creating a sort of distorted monetary inflation in the equus sense. Once you've participated in dressage, your view of financial reality becomes somewhat altered. When you buy a dressage horse, you basically buy it for pleasure (i.e., sentimentalism), and any sort of financial conservatism tends to go out the window with the bathwater.
Poor Johnny Boy Morgan would turn over in his grave at the cost of horsecare, training, and shows; the ardent capitalist wouldn't approve of this sort of willy-nilly spending unless they were the seller. When you own a dressage horse, somehow it becomes reasonable to buy $20 oil to supplement your horses feed; hearing friends complain about their $1600 air ticket to India makes your eyes roll, because that was, after all, how much you spent on board and training last month; and spending $20,000 on what's effectively a pet is considered cheap.
Tertio, capitalists judge everything by "return on investment." There's an old joke that goes like this: "How do you make a small fortune in the horse business? Start with a large fortune." Horses in general just don't lend themselves to any sort of return on investment except in terms of intangibles, such as pleasure or pride. It's quite rare to actually make money on a horse; most money is made on training and lessons, which is mostly based on human labor. Any sane capitalist would regard the horse business with a jaundiced eye and avoid it like the Black Plague.
However, with regards to Nicole's training I consider return on investment very important. One of the mare's quirks is an extreme anxietal reaction to any sort of open doorway. (Note, we don't have any of these issues when schooling outside in a ring or in a field). Whether walking in hand or actually training in saddle, she tends to shy away violently from open doorways. At this new barn, this means that we can only use 2/3rds of the arena, as her particular issue with with a doorway at one end of the arena. I don't think I need to explain how ridiculous it is to only use 2/3rds of an arena.
I'm done with trying to train it out of her - the time spent making her comfortable with open doorways is time I could be spending on something more valuable, like working on balance and transitions, or God forbid, myself. Additionally, we are unlikely to be in a competition setting where an open doorway comes into play; most shows are outside.
Most importantly, however, I see it as a never-ending cycle; as soon as I get her comfortable with the doorway, someone (or some cat) will appear, and we will be back to square one. If someone else wants to take a shot at training this out of her, then have at it, but I think it's pointless. Instead, I plan to just close doors as I can, and hopefully she will forget that there ever was an opening in the wall altogether. I did so yesterday, and she was marginally better after a few rotations around the ring.
Perhaps someone with more time and patience could train her out of it, and to that guy I take my hat off. But I think the return on that investment is too little compared to the other things I can work with her on. J.P. Morgan would be proud.
Friday, November 2, 2007
November 2, 2007
Yesterday I felt the beginnings of some looseness at the canter. It felt as if she was finally starting to reach for the bit, rather than just holding herself in a frame. It felt as if we could finally start having some sort of conversation at the canter. I've included 2 videos below; they are of the same sequence, but I slowed one down because it's hard to get a sense of anything in the first video because it happens so fast.
The thing about these videos is the canter looks worse than it has in previous videos. She appears more on her forehand, and less on the vertical. The canter is better not because it looks good, but because she is responding in a more conversational manner. I can fix the rest of it easily once she starts to consistently relax in the canter.
Original:
Slowed down:
The thing about these videos is the canter looks worse than it has in previous videos. She appears more on her forehand, and less on the vertical. The canter is better not because it looks good, but because she is responding in a more conversational manner. I can fix the rest of it easily once she starts to consistently relax in the canter.
Original:
Slowed down:
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