Presents All Around

WP webclipAt the end of the year, I upgraded the blog.

My gift to me: my own domain name, rodneyssaga.com. The term “wordpress” has been removed from the the title. Mostly an egoboo, but if I make cards, or signs, or whatever, it will look slightly more professional. There should be no change to any links or addresses you have. Rerouting is part of the service.

The upgrade bundle also came with more space, the ability to load videos directly rather than via YouTube, and the chance to customize my theme. I may fiddle with the latter. Not sure the other two functionalities speak to me. If I don’t use all the bells & whistles, I may switch to a la carte upgrades next year. Will keep you posted.

My gift to you: no ads.

Enjoy.

Feast of the Epiphany

Epiphany is one of my favorite religious holidays. Not a surprise, as it involves the Wise Men and revelation. I’m all about smart folks and more data.

An epiphany is the sudden understanding of something that was opaque. It’s not simply new information. It is about clarity where there was confusion. An epiphany cannot be taught nor delivered by another person. One must stumble upon them. This phenomenon is not unknown in the riding world.

First Instructor: Shorten your reins.
Second Instructor: Shorten your reins.
Third Instructor: Shorten your reins.
Rider: Hey! Wait a minute. This works so much better if I shorten my reins.

Wishing you a year of epiphanies, in riding & in life.

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas: 11 Paddock Masters

I’m exhausted just thinking about counting them up, but surely I have been in at least 11 paddocks? I’ve set dressage rings, arranged jumps by headlight, opened gates, yelled for riders, sucked dust, looked around vainly for riders, thumbed the walkie-talkie a thousand times in a day, and watched with overwhelming relief as the last horse trotted in for last trip of the day.

The best warm-up ring I ever ran was at an event at the Kentucky Horse Park. It was a three-day competition. By the time we got to show jumping on Sunday, those eventers were motivated to get in, get finished, and get home. Plus, I had an highly competent compatriot at the gate shoveling the riders into the ring without delay.

At the time, I was showing Adult Jumpers at A shows. At those shows, the announcers would give gate calls that ran as many as 10 riders deep: Gail (you go) in 1, Elizabeth in 2, Katherine in 3 … At the event, I did this thing. I would announce the impending order of go for the next 7 or 8 riders. At two minutes a trip, that meant each rider had 15 minutes warning, more than enough time to plan a warm-up. After a rider went in, I’d bump everyone up a step and repeat. They offered me a megaphone, but I declined. I’m ever so much louder.

The only time I lost riders was when they had already gone down the ring for their turn. I love eventers. At mid-afternoon, we went back to the show office:

Oh, are you taking a break?
Nope, we be done.

They were stunned. I lost my voice, but, boy, was it worth it.

On the Ninth Day of Christmas: 9 Pounds a-Droppin’

My third goal for the year* is to lose weight. I don’t obsess about, or even pay much attention to, my weight on a daily basis. I use the scale at the YMCA when I go swimming. When that number begins to creep over 150 lbs, I find there is a correlation with parts of my body being squishier than I might like. The last weigh-in was 157, so losing 9 pounds would put me under the limit with a margin for cookies.

I can still suck in my gut, stand up straight, and swan about in a pair of snug jeans. But the top bottom button gets undone as soon as I get home. In truth, the goal is more about fitness than making the scale say a certain number. I wish I could say that I want to lose weight/get fit to take better care of myself, or to live a more productive life. I just want to ride better.

Research tells me this is the same goal I has last year, down to the motivation [Resolutions]. How have I done since then? My middle looks better in britches – because I have purchased better-fitting britches. The walking has been a success. I go for a walk most days, even if I do little else. These are slow ambles around the field, not power walks. More walking meditation than exercise. But it is weight-bearing and that be good for aging bones, so I hear. Swimming was going strong-ish until I got yet another summer ear infection. Swam a few times in the Fall, but not enough.

Now that I have reliable transportation, complete with heat and lights, I will aim for the gym 3x a week. Mission success will be defined as darkening the door, if I just walk around the track and twiddle with a few weight machines. The first step is to make it a habit. If I wait for gung-ho enthusiasm, we will be having this same conversation at this same time next year.

*The first two goals being sell more writing [7th] and jump more fences [8th].

On the Eighth Day of Christmas: 8 Fences Jumping

The typical hunter class has eight jumps. Before (if?) (when?) Rodney gallops cross-country or turns-and-burns in a jump-off, we will do hunter classes to get our collective feet wet. Therefore, eight jumps would mean a hunter class would mean I was riding & showing & jumping. Yay!

Alternatively, there is noise about working some of the ASBs over small jumps as an exercise and as a way to see if any of them wish to show in saddleseat hunter.

Part of me wants to say, ‘Sure, I’ll bring out my tall boots & some standards and take everything in the barn over a fence.’ The other part of me is ranting, ‘Are you serious?! You SUCK at jumping.’

Yes, I have jumped in the past. I’ve even had a few days when I felt bulletproof. But those were long ago in places far, far away. In the meanwhile, the screaming monkeys in my head have built a puissance-class wall of anxiety and self-doubt. Do you recall the mess I had become before my first saddleseat lesson? [Sam I Am] I’m like that with jumping. Squared.

Unfortunately jumping is all about confidence. Particularly if the rider is supposed to be leading the parade. There are Sams in the jumping world. They are rare and special treasures.

Most ASB Hunt Seat classes have one jump. Therefore eight jumps would mean eight more show classes. Yay!

Oh, who am I kidding? I’d be happy this year to jump eight jumps period, anywhere, any horse, in the show ring or out.