Annotated Camp Tweets

(Long post. Reads fast. At least, it does to me. Photo comparisons at end.)

As much fun as Nationals was, camp was even bigger for me. We may have discovered and started to address a significant gap in my riding.

Day 1

My intention [Plans] was daily lessons for the two weeks before Nationals. That meant eight days, Tuesday through Friday. Barn is closed Sunday and Monday. I stay home with local residents on Saturday. Therefore, eight lessons.

My instructor (she became Coach during the camp/Nationals experience) immediately doubled down with two lessons a day. Well now.

Day 2

Tweets were composed sitting in my driveway. Exhaustion was a theme. I was deeply interested in not moving at that point.

Day 3

Invested in a Ovation schooling helmet to spare my fancy show hat [New].

schooling hat

The crystal are an elastic add-on from ShowQuest. That fact that I have bling on my hat surprises everyone. I don’t know why. I was the one willing to ride into the show ring with a fascinator on my helmet [Dixie Cup].

schooling hat bling

Day 4

Break for 24-mile bike ride [100 Miles, Winners!].

Day 5

Instructor decided on long-lining to improve my rein handling. Long-lining forces me to use my hands, as seat and legs are not longer viable options.

After hearing so much – so very, very much – over the years about Not Riding Backwards and Not Riding Off One’s Hands, I developed a First Do No Harm theory. If I never use the reins, then I never make a mistake. Decades of instructors yelled at me to Shorten My Reins, to Take Up a Contact. Never stuck. My hunter/jumper contact was so weak that I had no trouble immediately adjusting to the much lighter saddle seat contact.

This is explains why I get along with horses who go from the seat, such as Previous Horse and Sam. This explains why I get anxious to the point of tears before getting on other horses, such as the rest of the Saddlebreds. Horses that require soft but effective hands have been a mental crap shoot for me. It works. So I am okay once I get moving. I don’t understand why it works. So I freak out on the mounting block.

I need to learn to use all the tools in the toolbox. I have a responsibility to communicate with my hands as well as with my seat.

This is huge.

Day 6

Now that I am aware of my hands, I have a better understanding of why I disliked driving so much the last time I tried it [Control Issues]. Without fine-tunable communication to the front end, I was pretty much careening around the ring being dragged by the horse. Not pleasant. Now I know why.

Maybe I should try driving again. Maybe in the future even try a show or two. A small show. Alone in the ring. As a schooling exercise only. In the future. For now, we will concentrate on ridden equitation. After Nationals, we can revisit the driving question.

I had just launched into this speech when she-who-talks-me-into-all-manner-of-sh*t says, Why don’t you drive at Nationals?

Say whaaaaat (insert rising bleet)?

Day 7

Please note, one lesson two years ago, four lessons now, one schooling drive at the show & then into the ring for my first class as the biggest class of the year with four other drivers. That’s a lot of Just Do It.

(Update: accuracy compels me to add the fun show class over the weekend to the list of drives [Show Report].)

Day 8

Of course, identifying a problem doesn’t mean it goes away overnight. Progress is being made. Compare the visible tension in my first driving lesson back in 2012:

Photo by Courtney Huguley
Photo by Courtney Huguley

to my last day at the show:

Sandra Hall Photography Used with permission
Sandra Hall Photography
Used with permission

I’m starting to apply this under saddle. I still prefer Sam [post list & photos] to any other horse at Stepping Stone, but everyone – with the possible exception of Mark Todd, who can ride anything – works best with a certain type of horse. Knowing I will have some control over my destiny makes me – somewhat – more comfortable with idea of riding the other horses.

Speaking of Sam, look how much happier he is when my saddle seat improves. Walk-Trot at Mid-South, May 2013 [Show Report]:

Sandra Hall Photography Use with permission
Sandra Hall Photography
Use with permission

Walk-Trot-Canter victory pass, November 2014:

Sandra Hall Photography Used with permission
Sandra Hall Photography
Used with permission

Promo: Hastings House

cov HastingsHastings House B&B is where I stay when in find myself in Murfreesboro TN for days on end. I love my barn friends just not for days on end. OTOH, I don’t want to wallow in a hotel room alone for days on end. Therefore, a B&B is the right combination of privacy & someone to care, or at least notice, if I undergo spontaneous combustion.

The lovely proprietress willing adapted the breakfast times and content to work with my ever-changing show schedule and my ever-neurotic show stomach. She even came by the show. Although, I probably wasn’t friendly when she did. (Waves Hi!)

Welcoming Committee:

Miss Maddy
Miss Maddy
Mr. Percy
Mr. Percy

Lessons From Nationals: The Value of a Coach

Dedicated to Courtney Huguley of Stepping Stone Farm.

Photo by Morgan King, National Horseman. Used with permission.
Photo by Morgan King,
National Horseman.
Used with permission.

I’ve never had a coach. I’ve avoided team sports with the enthusiasm of a dedicated couch potato. Although I was on the riding “team” in college, the lessons were as any other riding lessons and the ostensible coach was a burned-out, upper-level rider. Displays of enthusiasm were passe.

While I’ve had good instructors, in most cases, my problems ceased to exist the moment the lesson was over. In some cases, I ceased to exist while the lesson was in progress, but I don’t dwell.

Before now, I’ve never worked with a riding professional who knew me well enough to say, or not to say, just the right thing at just the right moment.

Example 1: Driving
Coach had pondered ways to improve my soft-to-the-point-of-ineffective hands. She decided on long-lining. This morphed into driving lessons. On the first day, we talked endless driving theory: how to do it, what to expect, how it should feel, how a class is conducted. She stood in the ring and answered every question I had for as long as it took.

Before my next driving lesson, I was still nervous about the whole idea. I started asking more questions. She interrupted me with, “Just get in the damn cart.” Okay, she’s Southern, so she probably didn’t actually say damn, but it was strongly implied.

At Nationals, I had mini-meltdowns before each drive. She stood at Alvin’s head, silent and impassive, until I just got in the damned cart.

Example 2: Riding
On the second day of the show, I experimented with my position, achieving personal if not commercial success. On day three, I was going over my game plan. Coach agreed. Same idea. Same ride. I was in the zone. She added, “Don’t overdo it.” Yup. That was exactly what I was about to do. [Show Report]

Example 3: Facebook
The relationship between coach and student is a sensitive, compassionate, and deeply nuanced one. This is best exemplified by the sign she posted on my Facebook page after the show:

10690046_10152446009878716_687983219356358780_n

I love my coach.

Lessons From Nationals: Going For the Win

NACHS banner bg_rz6fA jump-off is a balance of speed and carefulness. The faster you go, the more likely your horse is to knock down a pole, earning penalty points. The more careful you are, the more likely you are to finish in the pastels. This was obvious to me. I had not realized that it applied to other disciplines, for example, to a saddle seat academy class.

In my lessons, I can get the slow, collected, “tea cup” canter fairly reliably. It’s the same canter one uses to rollback for a jump. In shows, I was hesitant to press for it. One has to, in broad terms, heave the front end while motivating the hind end. As I pranced around attempting to impress the judge, I had been reluctant to sufficiently heave on the front. If I misjudged and heaved too hard, the horse might downshift into a trot.

After placing last & second-to-last on day one of Nationals, I had nothing to lose. So, Sam lost the canter. What where they going to do, give me last? I rode in the class as I did in a lesson. I worked on elevating and gathering at the trot – to the extent Sam & I are capable. I insisted on cantering slowly but powerfully. Ditto. I still placed second-to-last, but with a huge personal improvement in understanding what was needful. This helped me to big fluffies on day three. [Show Report]

You can place if you compete. You can only win if you are willing to lose.

Lessons from Nationals: Dreaming of Blue

NACHS banner bg_rz6fIn the weeks before Nationals, I had two-a-day lessons for two weeks. (More on this later). I improved commensurately. I improved so much that I undoubtedly lifted myself from the pastels into the primary colors. (For purposes of discussion, green or sixth place, counts as a pastel.) Hence the redesign of my predictions [Show Today].

I improved so much that I entertained fantasies of winning the whole thing. I envisioned a ribbon rack holding eight blues, including two National Championships and the driving Championship. As it turned out, I was deeply wrong about my ribbon haul [Show Report]. However, once the idea of a blue streak was planted in my head it would not go away.

This rendered me EXTREMELY nervous. Last year, I could barely eat my breakfast by Sunday. This year, I was that nervous on the first day. (By the second day, I had much less to worry about, but I digress.) The possibility of doing that well put me in a very weird head space. It didn’t end up affecting the way I rode, but it made the ramp up way too tense. Bottom line, if I am that nervous, I am not as ready as I think I am.

Contrast this with my attitude before the Equitation Final. I knew – down to my seatbones knew – that if I could qualify to ride the pattern, I would lay down the best line in the class. I might not win the class, but I would win the pattern. Bring. It. On.

It’s the difference between hope and confidence.