Training in a new sport

One of the major stresses of competing, no matter which sport you choose, is trusting your training.  Even if you're well prepared, often there's a niggle of doubt right before you go down the centerline, or out of the start box.  Have I done enough? Am I ready?  

As a competitive dressage rider, I have a bit of confidence.  I've competed enough to have an idea of how things are likely to go in a test, and what I can do if they start to go wrong.  My new competitive sport, distance running, brings up a whole new set of challenges. I don't have any experience at it.  What can a person do when starting a new sport, or even a new level of the same sport?  Trust your training! Sometimes that's not easy to do, but it's the only chance a newbie has at a feeling of confidence.  In my first Half Marathon, on January 16th, I had to accept that I didn't know how to run 13.1 miles in a race atmosphere.  I had trained according to the guidelines, and if those were to be trusted, I was ready.  A Half Marathon is a fairly big demand: Would I hurt myself, or worse, disappoint myself? What if I turned into a weenie (my biggest fear) and quit? 

 I started the race slowly, not knowing how I would feel: Would I get tired? Would something start to ache? How would I know if that ache was the beginning of an injury? Halfway through the race, most of my worries melted away. At mile 6.5, I wasn't tired, so I increased my pace, and passed other runners all the way to the finish line. I finished 94th out of 525 runners!!! My time was 1:55:53, a very respectable first Half Marathon! 

My training had prepared me better than I could have hoped. That's the point of training.  If you do it, exactly as prescribed, you will get reasonably good results.  Maybe not all the time, but enough of the time that it's a pretty good bet.  What does that mean for competitive riders?  When doubt shows up (and it will), remember the plan, and all the time you've put into training.  You've gotten your horse fit, he's sound, you know your test, and you know that you can complete it.  All that's left is having the confidence to believe that all your preparation will lead to success.  

Now I'm starting training for a full Marathon. I will follow the training plan, and on May 29th, barring injury or illness, I will complete my first Marathon!  Then horse show season will begin... Wish me luck!

Simple, but not easy

Many of us trot a stretching circle or two to get our horses loosened up at the beginning of a work session.  This exercise is a variation on the usual stretching circle because it asks the rider to analyze the shape, size, and consistency of their circles in both directions.  Give it a try! Here's how:
Walk your horse on light contact; allow him to stretch forward and down.  Make a transition to working trot, also on light contact, stretching forward and down.  Begin a twenty meter circle at B or E, attempting to ride a perfect circle.  Repeat three times to the left, change rein, and attempt to trot the exact same circle three times on the right rein.  Compare your circles left and right. Look at the track that you have left in the sand. With proper execution, there should be a near perfect circle left by the horse's hoof prints.  This exercise must be executed precisely to give you and your horse the most benefit. To do this exercise correctly, a horse must remain balanced between the rider's inside leg, which could enlarge the circle, and rider's outside knee and thigh, which could diminish the size of the the circle.  The rider must stay very focused in order to guide the horse on the correct line.  Horses accustomed to being turned primarily with the reins will struggle though the exercise and the tracks they leave in the sand will not form a smooth, consistent, arc.  This exercise requires significant practice, but because it is not highly physically taxing on the horse, it is perfect as a warm up, as a break from more taxing work, or as a portion of the relaxing period at the end of a ride.    Enjoy, and post photos of your own circles!

Let me repeat myself

If you want to get anywhere with a horse, be prepared to repeat yourself.  Leg on, go forward. Leg on, go forward. Leg on, go forward.  You will do the same things for years; stretching circles every single day until the horse seeks the contact, and transitions like they are going out of style. Is that annoying, all that repetition? Does it piss you off when your horse resists, or doesn't get something new right away? Do you swear at him? Don't lie. Even if it's only in your head, you probably swear at him. Do you follow the swearing up with an emotionally charged whip aid, or a sharp boot with the spur?

When I'm teaching, that's my cue to take a sip of coffee (I would blurt out awful things, because I sometimes swear in my head too, if I didn't take that moment with my coffee).  Then I point out to the student that their aid was not an appropriate correction for what happened; that the horse needs more specific feedback about what to do.

Imagine if I did to my students what they sometimes do to their horses. Imagine if I got angry every time their heels came up, every time they were out of position, had poor timing, or got frustrated in a nanosecond. Imagine if I started swearing at them for crying.  Imagine if I screamed at them for being scared. I repeat myself hundreds of times before anything ever changes in a rider, because that's my job.  If I can be patient with a student, whose brain weighs 5 pounds, please be patient with your horse, whose brain could fit in the palm of your hand.

Mixed Signals

Usually the comment, "mixed signals" is followed by a "4" and then maybe, if you are lucky, some redemption later on in the test.  For the first time, though, "mixed signals" was the high point of my test.  It was my mare's Third Level debut, already a proud moment for me, because only two summers ago she did her first dressage class, and I think every comment that entire season was "unsteady".  Alyce and I have developed a working agreement; some would even call it a partnership. As we came to the second flying change I sat a bit taller approaching the centerline, rebalancing before the change.  Alyce came back a bit more than I expected; she had interpreted my seat aid as a walk transition. I asked her to keep cantering, and to my surprise, she cantered on after almost walking.  I prepared the change again, asked for it, and she made a crisp, clean change.  We got a "7", and the comment "mixed signals".  To the judge, it looked like the horse and I weren't on the same page, which was true, but it really was a simple rider error.  I had given a stronger half-halt than the horse needed, and almost caused a mistake.  Alyce was more sensitive than I had anticipated! It was great that she ended on a 67.82%, and Third Level Open Reserve Champion, but better still was the knowledge that my horse had tried so hard to figure out what I wanted from her, despite the distraction of the show atmosphere and the pressure of a test. Go Alyce, and welcome to being a real dressage horse!

What CAN be done??

My last post was met with mixed reviews, like, "Wow, you're motivated, but I just hate the cold." I get it.  Here are nine things Northerners can do, without ever hopping on a horse:

1. Sift through your tack box.  I can only guess what's hiding in there.
2. Memorize your tests.  The sooner you know them, the sooner you can start imagining all the ways you might screw them up. Let the show nerves begin!
3. Take an inventory of all things horsey; get a few new things if you need them, and out with the seen-better-days, never-to-be-used-again junk.  For the love of all things holy, get rid of all the single gloves.
4. Teach Pookie to lead better, by which I mean, drag Pookie around the ring until Pookie learns to follow along like a gentleman without dragging you to sniff the poops or spooking at the corner monsters.
5. Read a classic training book. What is shoulder-in anyway? Try Steinbrecht's Gymnasium of the Horse, or Podhajsky's The Complete Training of Horse and Rider.  Into jumping?  How about Steinkraus's Reflections on Riding and Jumping?  Have fears to conquer? Go for Sally Swift's Centered Riding, or Jane Savoie's That Winning Feeling. 
6. Get s*** done. Literally. As in, take a fecal sample to the vet.  The ground is frozen, and your horse isn't likely to be picking up many new worms, so get those egg counts down.
7. Is your trailer road-worthy? Dig it out of the snow and take it to the shop...where else would you find some old dude to call you sweetie? Get your fix of sexist old guy time early this year.
8. For the ultimate at-home-sitter's winter task, organize your ribbons from last show season, while watching YouTube videos of your classes and singing along to Bruce Springsteen's "Glory Days".   
9. Or, you could go ride. It's probably easier than doing all this other crap.
   

      
   
   
         

   Squee! Ribbons!     

   
   
   
   

   

   Inventory and organization, check.

   
   

   
   

Dear Snowbirds...

We creatures that stay up north are a hardy type, a bit sullen, and certainly a bit rounder than the lithe snowbirds who need not consider insulation. Life with horses in the Northeast is hard.  It's mid-February; days are getting longer but tempers are getting shorter.  We lament the frozen water spigots, curse the dust in the arena, and dread the snow falling from the arena roof. The holidays have come and gone, spring is months away, and a high above zero is cause for celebration. Social media bombards us with images of Wellington, Ocala, and the Carolinas.  Other people, worlds removed from frozen buckets and sheets of ice, are having fun.
To those having fun down south, I say: Enjoy the bling on your helmet; I have frost on my eyelashes and a fire lit under my ass.  I ride everyday, and I will be ready for show season.  You have sandy beaches and beautifully groomed outdoor arenas to ride on, but we also have lovely white granular material, and ours is easier to get out of our breeches when we fall off.  You have a fancy show coat? Well, I am wearing THREE coats!  I don't begrudge you snowbirds the opportunity to enjoy the winter without struggle, but we in the north must make the winter our teacher, and our friend.
Life in the Northeast tests us; it offers us something that money can't buy. To all the northern riders, I say: Embrace the lessons of winter; the best teacher is the toughest teacher. Get enough clothes and get outside everyday. Ride, snowshoe, ski. And in the spring, reap the rewards. You will be tougher, mentally and physically, from struggling through the winter.