With a spook, spook here…

Old MacDonald had a farm,
Ee i ee i oh!

And on that farm he had some horses,
Ee i ee i oh!
With a spook, spook here,
And a spook, spook there

Here a spook, there a spook,
Everywhere a spook, spook
Ee i ee i oh!

 

Sound familiar? <Sigh> Because if I didn’t know better I’d think it was Halloween around here. Why? Because the spooks have come out to play. Mwahaha!

Seriously, since the temperatures have dropped, er, become more seasonal, I’ve been taught a lesson or two about spooking.

Lesson number 1
Do not grip with your lower leg as this encourages the spooking horse to go FASTER!

Lesson number 2
Resist the urge to scream, yelp or in any other way vocalize your shock at the sudden change in direction. Terrifying though it is <gulp> the horse will be even more terrified to discover the spook (uh, that’s you) is now on it’s back.

Lesson number 3
Use your thighs. Yep. Strong thighs will keep you on that horse. Kneel into those thighs! You’ll feel it afterwards but like any workout sore muscles are a good thing. Ow, ow, ow. With any luck you may even collect your horse.

Lesson number 4
Sit up! Keep your center of gravity over the horse’s. That means sit up!

Lesson number 5
Doors are scary monsters to be avoided at all costs! Even if the horse sees that door every day of it’s life.

Lesson number 6
Expect the unexpected. If the horse always spooks approaching the door from the right, eventually she’ll spook approaching from the left. Believe me <sigh>. That time I didn’t think I’d be able to stop her.

Oh Golly, Miss Molly

Let me introduce you to Molly. Readers, Molly. Molly, readers.

Cute, huh? Well, let me tell you something about her, she’s speedy. As in Energizer Bunny fast. Actually, make that Mazda fast.

Zoom
Zoom

Zoom-zoom is the only gait I’ve ever seen her ridden in. Worse, her riders don’t seem to realize that each gait has different speeds. That’s right, speeds. Slow, medium and fast. I guess that makes them passengers and now I finally understand what my instructor meant by “She’s running away with you.” Huh, I need to ride the horse. Who thought?

My a-ha moment had me bursting at the seams and I was dying to share.
Eeny, meeny, miney, moe…

I decided to pick on Fran. She’s an old friend and just happened to be riding Molly. Perfect.

“Hey, Fran! Slow Molly down. She has different trot speeds.”
“Whaddya mean?”
“Molly can trot slower than that. I want you to slow your post down by sitting longer and rising slower.”

Uh-oh. I can see the questions marks appearing above her head.

“Like this?”
“Not quite but you’re close.”
“Can you show me? I learn much better when I have a visual.”
Don’t we all? The hard part is achieving what we see.
“Sure.”

Entering demonstration mode.
We slowly walked around the arena. I asked Molly to relax, stretch down and step into the outside rein. (You noticed her Giraffe neck, right?) When I knew that I had her attention I asked her to trot. Lo and behold! She really does have different speeds. Oh and Molly interprets the lower leg to mean GO! No lower leg. Especially not a gripping lower leg.

Fran is stunned and amazed by my magic tricks.
“How’d you do that? Tell me what you’re doing as you’re doing it. I didn’t know she could do that!”

“OK, it’s your turn, Fran.”
“Can you tell me what to do?”
“Sure. I want you to ask Molly to trot and apply your half-halt. Meaning, I want you to pulse your inside leg against Molly. On, off. Then I want you to squeeze the outside rein and release it. Just like you’re squeezing water out of a sponge. Good! Pulse your leg on, off. Squeeze the sponge and release. Remember to slow your post. You’re calling the shots up there. Sit a little longer and rise slower.”
“I’m doing it! Give me more tips.”

See what a little taste of the minutia does? I’ve created a monster. Oh and when did I start channeling my instructor?

 

Kiss Me Now!

What is it about horses and indoor riding that makes them spook?!
Is it the switch from hot to cold? Outside to inside? Bored? Frisky?

I really need to know!
Alright, I don’t need to know but I am curious.

Wait, I think I know what it is.
It’s the doors.

BIG.
SCARY.
DOORS.

Silent sentinels waiting to spring into action and eat us.

Yep, that’s it.
That had to be what my horse was thinking when she spooked at the door.
Again.

Only this time, I knew what had caused her to spook. It was my instructor. She was moving something near the door as we trotted past. Or maybe it was the actual door?

Anyway, it must’ve sounded like a low, rumbling RAWR!
Oops, that was way too loud. I meant rawr.

Oh God! Here we go again!
But the horse barely moved. It was amazing.
I was right there with her. In a flash, I had started a one rein stop and I really sat down into her.
No, that’s not right. I really kneeled into my thighs and didn’t grip with my lower leg.
For a brief moment in time I had a dressage seat.

My instructor was ecstatic! According to her I had REALLY collected the horse by sitting so deeply into my thighs, er, I mean kneeling. Kneeling, kneeling. Her exact words were “If Mary Wanless saw that she’d kiss you!”

So, where’s my kiss?

The Big Bad Wolf

Life can change in a heartbeat. I know that. I’ve lived through many of it’s twists and turns. Knocked down more times than I care to remember—just like you. Every time I come back a little stronger. Why? Because better things are coming.

I can feel that old spark coming back. A warmth spreading inside my chest as I approach riding with renewed energy. No longer am I weighed down by work stress. I’m relaxed and it shows in my riding.

The Three Little Pigs

Uh, did you hear that? My horse’s ears flick in response.

Overnight a front had blown in and the weather has changed quite a bit. The wind is creating eerie sounds that echo within the indoor. In the distance, I can hear the faint clang of metal. As we trot past a door, the wind howls and knocks it against the frame.  Winter has finally arrived in New England and it’s attempting to get inside just like the Big Bad Wolf.

“Little pig, little pig, let me come in!”

There are now three horse and rider pairs in the indoor. Despite the wind I’ve had a fantastic lesson. What a difference it makes when you’re not carrying work stress in with you. I’m actually relaxed, huh.

Two of us picked up a canter. As we passed the open doorway the wind huffed and puffed and blew us in. Just like a straw house.

In slow motion I had witnessed her head pop up as she prepared to bounce to the side like a cat. I had just enough time to register that I was still holding the whip in my inside hand. “Crap!” (OK, so my language was a bit stronger than that.) I can’t perform a one rein stop! Drop the whip! Turn her to the inside! Bend, bend…

Whew! I looked around to see that we’d stopped in the center of the indoor.

My instructor applauded my ability to sit the spook and drop the whip. Then she confesses that three other students had come off horses earlier in the day.

Silly Wolf, you’ve filled your quota.

Hello, My Name is Lee

I nervously surveyed the room as I sat down at the U-shaped table. A few of them look familiar but where are my co-, um, ex-coworkers? I focus on the door with laser intensity. Willing them to appear. Come on, come on… Where are you? We’re a team. There I go again, thinking in the present tense. We were a team. Were. Past tense.

Doubts plague me. I’m starting to regret my decision to attend this outplacement workshop.

Words are then written on a flip chart that spur an emotional conversation.
Anger
Anxiety
Relief
Overwhelmed

Am I in the right place? This is starting to sound a lot like grief counseling. Don’t get me wrong. I was emotional too. But didn’t you see it coming? We’ve already had two rounds of layoffs and our stock has been hovering around $2. It wasn’t personal. Yeah, right.  It’s so hard not to take it that way.

I feel bad for them.
For me.
For all of you going through this.

Please give us a moment. We’re grieving the loss of our jobs.

Next
The classic ice breaker. We’ll go around the room and give our names, titles, and future focus. Oh, boy. Can you see my eye roll?

The woman farthest from me begins. Name, title and a very long winded description of what she did. She was a lifer at our former employer. So are the next two woman. They repeat her pattern. The man hasn’t been there as long but decides to share a lot of personal information. Too personal.

This is starting to feel like group therapy. I don’t like group therapy.

I glance at the white board. Name, title, future focus. That’s it.

“Hello, my name is Lee and I’ve been laid off.”

Done. I’ve identified and owned up to my issue. Now where’s lunch?

Your Mission

I quickly crossed the room to answer the ringing phone. I raised the handset to my ear and heard the following.

“Hello, Lee. There’s a barn about a half hour away. Inside this barn is my horse. He’s been a pasture pony for the last two years but we’ve started to ride him. We’re working on building his trust and strength. Basically, we’re just walking him with a little bit of trot. Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to join us tomorrow morning. Should you be apprehended on your way here, we will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds. Good luck, Lee.”

I quickly replaced the handset and backed away as smoke rose up from the base.

I must be dreaming. Uh-huh, this has to be a dream. It’s the only explanation.
Mission? Horse? Smoke?
It can’t be real.
Then again, I have a mission. Unemployed people need missions.
Game on.

This is my target. Teddy, doesn’t have a lot of quality training but he’s rock solid.

At the moment, Teddy’s trainers would like him to walk. Lots and lots of walking. Changes of direction, throw in some random patterns, change strides but walk. Poor Teddy, doesn’t really understand that there are different speeds within each gait.

Walking is good though. We all need to go back to basics and build upon them. Kinda like my resumé, sigh.

It was a good day.

Mission accomplished.

Slamming to a Screeching Halt

Oh my God, what is this? I move some papers aside to reveal a dusty laptop. It’s in a sad state of neglect and begs for my attention. You see, I’ve spent the last few months caught in a vortex. Too busy running here, there and everywhere. I swear that I put 1,000 miles on my car in just over a week. Hmm, maybe more. The repercussions? I ran out of blogging gas.

I was just coming up for air when everything came to a
slamming,
screeching,
HALT.

I lost my job.

So what does a newly unemployed, struggling dressage rider do? Pack up my desk. Actually, it was already packed in a small box. (shrug) Hey, this lay off wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Next? Contact family and friends with the news.
I had been texting my husband so he received a “Me too”

“Hi, Mom. Happy birthday! How are you today?”
(Pause while Mom responds.)
“That sounds like fun. I have bad news. I just lost my job.”

Facebook was already burning up with the news so I had to make a preemptive strike and contact my sister before someone else told her.
“Hi, Bug” Aren’t big sisters the best? I have a slew of nick names for that little pain in the butt, uh, I mean for my lovely little sister. “How are the kids?”
(Pause while Stacey responds.)
“Well, I have some bad news. I lost my job.”

Next step? Hmm, dust off the laptop and start looking at job postings.

By noon I’ve discovered 2 freelance positions on Craigslist that may prove worthwhile. I need to dust off my resumé though so let’s change gears.

Horses, riding, lessons. Oh my.
I have a lot of time on my hands now but I can’t really afford to shell out money to ride. I’ll check out equinesite.com. They usually have something posted for horseless riders / riderless horses. BINGO! Someone has two horses that need exercising about a half hour away. Email sent.

Now what?
Um, network. Right.
Facebook? Check.
Emails sent? Check.
Blog? Check. (Two days later but done.)

Riding lesson here I come!

Psst! Anyone need a graphic designer? Freelance, telecommute, full-time, whatever. I’m available.

Equestrian Marketing Gone Bad?

This is not something I usually do.

Great opening, huh? I’m already telling you that what I’m about to do is bad. Really, really, bad. As in there’s absolutely no excuse for my actions. Well, maybe one. It made me laugh and laughter is meant to be shared.

A little background
There’s a certain equestrian duo that I’ve been watching. I won’t reveal names but he sports a mustache and she’s well known for wearing visors. I find them fascinating. Why? Marketing. They’ve built an Empire (notice the capital E) around their equine products. Now they’re trying to enter the dressage market. First I noticed their ads appearing in Dressage Today. Then an email announced the duo as dressage trainers on a video subscription website. The fallout was incredible and led to the removal of the press release from two websites. We, uh, dressage riders, were labeled “dissenters” because we didn’t buy into it.

What spurred my reaction  (Tee, hee, spurred.)
The latest and greatest damage control, er, email, announces that Visor Lady has been endorsed by an Olympian. Eh, big deal. Never heard of him.

What tickled me
“…[Visor Lady] a masterful dressage rider…”
Masterful? Really? Then why isn’t her butt glued to that saddle? I can see air. Don’t be fooled by the horse. Look at the rider’s butt. Not that I should talk after last night’s lesson but enough about me.

Visor Lady is a masterful dressage rider.

“[Visor Lady’s] brand-new system teaches riders how to engage their horses physically, mentally and emotionally into collection…”
Uh, isn’t that classical dressage? Hmm, and the training pyramid. Ha! None of that’s brand-new. The training methods existed before she did. The duo just wrapped it up into a prettier package.

Educational moment
Now what made me feel bad about writing this is my lack of open-mindedness. I truly believe that we all have something to teach and that we’re in a constant state of learning. It doesn’t matter what discipline you ride. We can all learn from each other. Along that line a photograph is merely a moment frozen in time. It could be good or bad but it’s merely a moment.

Just do me a favor, please. Don’t use a photograph demonstrating a bad dressage seat (above) and tell me that she’s “a masterful dressage rider.” I had a moment like this last night and I’m not called “masterful.” No, instead I heard, “Sit your butt down! Sit on that saddle!” I have had teeny, tiny, masterful moments. Don’t blink or you’ll miss them.

Now let’s compare Visor Lady’s photo above to another one I found.

Both horses are shown at almost the same canter stride moment. One horse seems to have a better bend and the hind leg is really engaged. (psst! One leg is really reaching underneath.)

Now look at the riders. Both are good riders but which one is part of the horse? I’ll give you a hint. No air.

Bingo! Class dismissed.

Finally… Square Turns That are Well, Square

I feel like it’s my birthday. I finally succeeded in riding square turns that are well, SQUARE.
Square turns, uh-huh…
Square turns, uh-huh…
It’s my birthday…
It’s my birthday…

I’m getting a bit ahead of myself so let’s go back to what had happened earlier. Uh, bear with me while I rewind.
(Rewinding, rewinding… STOP. Play.)

You see it all started when the alarm clock woke me up. Huh? Oh, sorry. I rewound too far.
(Fast forward, fast forward…STOP. Play.)

Now where was I? Oh, yeah. It all started with work tension and balloons.
That’s right. Balloons. Don’t worry, I’ll explain.

In order to relax my instructor asked me to exhale. Of course, I was already exhaling right? Inhale. Exhale. HELLO.

Not quite. I had to exhale like I was blowing out a candle.
Um, OK. (huff!)
Huh, it kinda worked. For just a moment I felt my shoulders drop and my seat got heavier.

Exhale longer. Like you’re letting the air out of a balloon.
Okaaay. (huuuuffffff!)
Wow! That was cool.
(huuuuffffff, huuuuffffff, huuuuffffff)

Now let’s go back to that quarter turn exercise. The one that I can’t seem to do. Gosh darn, good for nothing body. Sigh. Walk from one long side to the other. (Huff, huffff) Look over my shoulder into the turn and keep the outside rein. Contain the haunches. (Huff, huffff)A smidge of inside leg. (Huff, huffff) Keep walking.

Oh my God, I did it! I finally felt as though my legs didn’t exist below the knees.

She was right. I was gripping with my leg. It didn’t feel like I was gripping but I was.

It’s my birthday…
It’s my birthday…

Sweaty Palms Lead to Dancing

“Crap! Lee, I just found out that he’s not here.”

“Well, I’m just around the corner. Do you have another horse I could ride?” I’m fondly remembering cute, little schooling  ponies and the Quarter Horse that really likes team penning. Yeah, that works for me. A nice low key ride.

“Hmm, how much of a challenge do you want? You could ride Tucker.”

Tucker? Memories crash to the surface of her daughter attempting to mount him. It took three people to hold him there. Three. Then there was a schooling show where he attempted to explode several times. Gulp. His name has induced an instant response of sweating hands and a racing heart.

“Uh, I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t. He’s more mature now and you have a lot more experience.”

“Okaaay.”

“Great! See you soon.”

I let out a slow breath and wipe a sweaty palm on my breeches. Low key ride? Ha.

 

I exit my vehicle and warily approach the barn and indoor arena. After all a fire-breathing horse lives here and I must be prepared to turn tail and run. I find Tucker in his stall calmly eating hay. We exchange glances and he resumes eating. I haven’t spotted any plumes of smoke emitting from him and offer a silent prayer of thanks.

Wait.

We haven’t introduced a saddle. Or rider.

Yet.

I wipe sweaty palms across my breeches and go in search of his owner.

 

We’re all tacked up and ready to go without incident. Mounting? A piece of cake. Now let’s get acquainted in the indoor. How much leg can I use? Hmm, not overly sensitive but responsive. Good. Tripping a little going to the right. I’ll need to support him more with my inside leg and push him into the outside rein. Better. Let’s change direction. Feels good. Let’s shorten your stride and pick you up a bit.

“Why’s he walking like that?” That would be the peanut gallery. Did I mention that this is a hunter/jumper barn? And that I don’t ride in front of an audience.

“His rider is nervous.” True. I’ll give my friend that one. “Sit back.”

“Thanks. Working on that.” When will I learn to sit back? When?

Now let’s trot. Stumbling but willing. I wonder if it’s the footing? More inside leg to outside rein. Better. Other horses have joined us for their lesson and he doesn’t bat an eyelash. Good.

A few minutes later we all exit the indoor. It’s absolutely gorgeous and we’re going to ride outside. There’s just one small problem. We have to walk past a horse-eating, plastic trash bag. Each horse gives it the hairy eyeball and attempts to walk past it sideways. No way are they turning their backs on the enemy! Thankfully, there’s no wind and the plastic bag allows us passage.

Our lesson ensues, minus jumps, and we both start to relax. As we relax Tucker’s back comes up and he starts to frame up nicely. No fire-breathing horse here. Just a horse, a really nice horse. Whew!

We trot deeply into the corners while others cut them off entirely. A little sitting trot, a little half seat—my thighs! The peanut gallery has followed us and I overhear, “…she’s so straight.” While my firend says, “Are you breathing?” Oh, how well you know me.

Then the call goes out.

“Everyone move to the center of the ring so Lee can canter! She’s never ridden him before so let’s give her room.”

Oh, boy. Sweaty palms emerge.

The peanut gallery erupts into cries of “His canter is great!”, “You’ll love him!” Uh-huh, we’ll see about that.

“You can ask from a walk or trot. You’re choice.”

That’s good. Hmm, I forgot to ask how he was with his leads. We’re almost in the corner, here goes.

Canter.

Nice, a little strung out though. Approaching the next corner. Stronger half-halt. He comes back really nicely. Wow.

“You’ve got it!”

From the corner of my eye, I notice that a latino barn hand has stopped to watch. They see it all. If he’s stopped to watch I must have it. Yah!

I decide to try an even lower gear. WOW! It feels like I’m cantering in place. This is amazing.

Now for the other direction. I’m not as good going to the left. Darn, I tipped forward on the depart. He’s definitely strung out and it’s my fault. Half-halt! Nice. Not as good as before but nice.

We both finished up slightly out of breath and the peanut gallery erupts. “You look great!”, “You did really well.”, “Great job!” but my favorite comment came from one of the mothers.

“You were dancing.”