How an adult rider manages it all.
I’m so excited! I just found out that Mary Wanless will be in my area for a clinic next week. I have to go!
Mary Wanless Clinic
Larkspur Farm, Littleton MA
November 13-15, 2009
Auditors are welcome. Cost for auditors: 3 days @ $75 or $30/day
Mary does an unmounted workshop in the middle of the day to introduce body awareness and answer questions. To learn more about Mary Wanless please visit her website.
As any rider will tell you the quest for an independent seat is the ultimate goal. The ability to ride in harmony could take many hours and quite possibly years to achieve (think Spanish Riding School). Both of which I have in limited amounts! I’m a once a week lesson student that just stopped hourly practice rides. That means one hour of mounted riding time a week. And years? I’m 42! I’m running out of years! I need to fast track my independent seat.
Hmmm, what skills do I need to get this job done?
I also understand that riders that take lungeing lessons progress very quickly. So, I agreed to be a lunge line guinea pig. We weren’t sure how the school master would react but he was a…well, school master. I on the other hand? Yeah. Well, I guess I need these lessons.
I knotted the reins and placed them on the horse’s neck. That way they were out of my way but within reach if I needed them. Then I attached a grab strap to the front of the saddle. I just might need that during sitting trot to prevent myself from being catapulted across the indoor. Okay, I’ve official surrendered all control to my instructor. She’s responsible for controlling my horse’s speed and the size of our circle. I’ve been told to do nothing with my legs. Absolutely nothing.
We started at a walk without reins. I held my invisible reins and concentrated on following the horse’s movement.
Side to side, hip to hand. Not bad.
Let’s pick up a posting trot. Yeah, let’s! Piece of cake.
Now a sitting trot. BIG. TROT. I’m okay. Relax.
Wait? Was that a canter stride?
What was that? A buck?!
Stop messing around. TROT!
Hmmm, shift back a little. Better.
Now walk. Okay, walk. Ack! Pitching forward.
Grow tall and sit into it. Okay, slower trot, slower, taller, walk.
Darn. Brakes are sticky.
Now without your stirrups. Deep breath, let’s go!
BIG. TROT. Where’s that strap?
Breathe. Relax. Side to side.
Look no hands!
Things were far from perfect. Especially those downward transitions. I’m learning to rely less on the reins and more on my body. I trust myself and my balance even more.
Independent seat here I come!
I don’t like water. Probably because I nearly drowned. Twice. So, imagine my surprise when I took to it like a fish to…well, water. I found myself relaxed as the waves gently lifted me up from behind. Up, up, up until I reached the crest. Then I followed it back down, down, down. No fear. Just relaxation as I allowed the waves to move me.
The dreamscape melts away and a new reality takes shape around me.
I’m cantering on a dreaded 20-meter circle. Moving as one with the horse. Each powerful surge from behind gently lifts me up, up, up and I ride it back down, down, down. Total relaxation as I ride the canter waves. I relax even more and the horse does too. Her back comes up as she rounds more and more. There’s nothing like feeling this harmony between us. Riding the waves in lightness and rhythm like a real dressage rider. At least for the moment.
I’m no longer afraid of the water. OK, maybe a little but what a wonderful way to end my series of practice rides!
Come on in! The water’s fine.
Here are some of the fabulous entries in our schooling show’s costume class. Enjoy!
Photos are used with Lisa Forman’s permission.
Tinkerbell (too bad she didn't have a helmet)
Candy corn
A bag of MMs
A spider and her prey
Horses
Arabian Princess and her Arabian horse
The circus comes to town
I'm a lion, hear me roar! (my favorite)
Ah, the girth. A necessary piece of riding equipment that keeps the saddle and therefore the rider on the horse. That’s right…on the horse. We are after all horseback riders not turf riders. At least not intentionally.
My first loose girth lesson
The summer before I entered second grade we moved to the country. A friend invited me over and after a quick tour of the house we were off to far more exciting things. Like horses. I vaguely remember us wrestling with the saddle and mounting. Then we took off down a paved country road and before long we were trotting. As we trotted I noticed something odd was happening.
bounce slipping to the right
bounce slipping more!
bounce ack!!
In a blink of the eye I was eating dirt.
Did I happen to mention that we were riding double on a shoeless horse? Oh, and helmets? Forget about it. Thankfully, we walked away with only a few scrapes. To this day I can still remember that friend’s name.
Present day lessons
It seems that I’ve gone back to riding with a loose girth. I’m not doing this intentionally. I swear! It’s just that I’ve been riding a sensitive horse for my dressage lessons and she has girthing issues. Or maybe I do?
Anyway, as I start to attach the girth she pins her ears back. Then I move to the other side and as I bring the girth beneath her belly I’m rewarded by a show of teeth. I don’t think she’s smiling at me. I then very slowly attach the girth to the first hole. More teeth. Slowly, I adjust the girth one hole tighter. More teeth.
Now in my opinion showing teeth is fine. I get it. You don’t like it. Maybe someone pinched you in the past but I’m being very slow and gentle here. However, the last time I tacked her the teeth came a little too close for comfort and I slugged her. Not hard. She immediately turned her head around and faced forward. Still as a statue.
Now for the riding part. As I said earlier I’ve been riding with a loose girth. See? She trained me well. We haven’t noticed until the end of the lessons. After trotting and cantering and maybe a buck for good measure. So, either I have awesome balance or it hasn’t been all that loose. Regardless I’m thankful that I’m no longer a turf rider and I always wear a helmet.
Do you have a girth story to share?
Recently, I had the wonderful opportunity to work with the Northeast Regional Adult Amateur Dressage Championships (NRADC) show committee. My role was to design their Fall Finale Dressage Show program. This is the second year of the championships that are designed specifically to highlight the achievements of the adult amateur.
Program cover I designed for the Northeast Regional Adult Amateur Dressage Championships, October 2009
This show is unique in that it focuses on a segment of the dressage community which often must juggle work and family schedules, and have time and budgetary constraints on their training schedules. Ann Guptill, volunteer for the show, believes that the NRADC is important to recognize the adult amateurs. Guptill said, “I was excited to see last fall how this championship encouraged participation from the adult
amateurs who are the backbone of our sport. The freestyle element brought in a whole new group of riders who previously wondered how long they would have to wait to be able to ride in a venue like this. Creating the freestyles improved their riding and brought out great creativity that was fun to be a part of.”Qualifying to compete is designed to be feasible for those on limited time and monetary budgets. Qualifying scores can be achieved either at schooling shows or USDF-recognized competitions. Two scores from any tests at each level are required from USDF-recognized judges. For training level the minimum score is 61%, first level 60%, second level 59%, and third level and above 58%.
I salute all the wonderful hardworking volunteers!
I can’t find my horse. OK, he’s not actually my horse but for the next hour he is. I know what he looks like too. Bright chestnut. Just like that one. Oh, and that one over there. But they aren’t him. Hmmm, he’s around here somewhere. I continue winding through the maze of paddocks. Now where’s my horse?
I give up. I slowly approach the indoor hoping he’ll jump up and say here I am!
“I can’t find him.” This is sooo embarrassing!
“Did you look for a bright chestnut?”
“Uh-huh. I saw several but not him. Where is he?”
“Hmmm, over there under the tree with the fly sheet on.”
“Oh. That’s why I couldn’t find him. I couldn’t see him.”
Walked right past him. I know me eyes are bad but…
I entered the paddock and retrieved the camouflaged horse I sought. He walks placidly next to me. A little too placidly. I look at him a little more closely and take inventory.
Bright chestnut? Check.
Matching mane? Check.
Fuzzy? Check.
Fly sheet? Check.
16.2 hands? More or less. Check.
Playful? No. Right horse? There were two under that tree…
I proceed to groom and tack him still questioning my selection. Maybe he’s sleepy. Why isn’t he trying to nibble on anything? Usually he’s 16 going on 3 but not today. Right horse?
I enter the indoor and while tightening his girth I hear something that causes my heart to skip a beat.
“Hey, is that Page or Rocco?”
I sneak a glance at my instructor who hasn’t responded yet.
“Please, don’t tell me I got the wrong horse.”
Pause. “You got the wrong horse.”
“Page?” HER personal horse that I’ve never groomed or tacked before! Not to mention ridden!
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you want me to put him back? I don’t have to ride.”
“That’s okay. He’ll be fine.”
“Uh, I’ll only walk then. Maybe trot.” Oh my God! Heart be still.
“Ha, ha! You got the right horse.” I shoot her a questioning look.
“Really, that’s Rocco.” Whew!
I think I need more coffee. A LOT more coffee. Better yet…bed. That was way too mentally taxing for an early Saturday morning.
Our pre-lesson banter centered around Core Rhythms. You know the infomercial on TV? A total core workout in the guise of Latin dance moves. What fun! All of us wanted it and the cry for a dance/pilates/yoga studio was raised. We even had a spot above the horse stalls picked out. I’m sure they’d enjoy that! Right, uh-huh.
I should’ve known what was coming.
Words that make all Dressage Diva Wannabes cringe. No, not 20 meter circles. At least not this time. It was sitting trot! On a Danish Warmblood dressage school master no less!
BIG.
BOUNCY.
TROT.
SIT?!
Okay. Sitting. Hmmm, not bad. Side-to-side, up and down.
BOING! Shoot! Quick! Stand up in stirrups. Now sit.
Side-to-side, up and down.
Don’t grip with your thigh! Huh? How’d she see that?
Lean back a little more! Hey! Saw that too.
No knees! How’d she know?
Think about doing the Rumba! Rumba? Uh, okay.
Ba-ba-ba-boom, ba-ba-ba-boom!
Whoa! My hips! I’m moving and sitting the trot!
Ba-ba-ba-boom, ba-ba-ba-boom!
I’m definitely not fluid but there’s hope. I did a good job and I have great balance. All I have to do is channel my inner dancer while chanting “ba-ba-ba-boom!” Oh, and remember to trust my balance. Hmmm, engage my core and sit up. Oh, and ground my feet. Darn feet. See? Piece of cake. That is until I tense or twitch a muscle and boing right off that saddle. Let’s not think about that though. Positive energy only! 
Darkness has fallen and wrapped itself around us. Our eyes are slowly adjusting as we work. A flashlight is offered as another screw digs deeply into the wood. The police officer has turned his car around and offers to spotlight our work. I think there’s been enough of that. We’re almost done. The door is tested and it should hold.
As we walk through the muddy paddock I can’t help but notice that you’ve changed over the years. You’re quieter and more subdued, where once you were filled with life’s effervescence. Your cheery shade of red faded long ago and I can see where repairs have been attempted. One hole in particular begs for my attention but I must concentrate on the task at hand. Slowly, we navigate around the broken fencing and a forgotten wheelbarrow. I find my eyes drawn to a discarded lead rope as we approach the door.
Tears well up in my eyes as I stare into the neighbor’s yard. This is where it all played out. The spotlight was finally on you. This time you’re not here to hear me say goodbye. This time it’s your turn to start anew.
Unstable situation for Quincy riding center
Blue Hills Riding Center shut down, surrenders horses
A Second Chance
Courtesy of WBZ
I am soooo sorry. I’ve been remiss in my duties as a blogger. What can I say, except that life gets in the way. (Shrug) But enough about that!
Rewind
The horse I rode hated me. Everything about me. My hands, my legs,… Wait. That was another post. (Ooops! Nothing more embarrassing then catching myself plagiarizing…myself!)
Let me start again. Ahem.
It was the best of rides, it was the worst of rides. (How ’bout a little Charles Dickens with a twist?) Pretty accurate summation of my dressage lesson though. This mare isn’t an easy horse for me to ride. She demands quiet! Quiet hands. Quiet legs. Quiet mind. Everything I’m not. Usually.
I came to this particular lesson in a blue funk. My internal banter, a.k.a. monkey mind, was on vacation. I found myself focused only on the moment. I allowed myself to step back and just let things happen. I wasn’t struggling to make them happen. I had no goals. Time stood still. I was mentally released from trying to achieve outcomes.
Mentally released.
I rode with quiet hands, quiet legs and a quiet mind. Amazing!
I was able to bend a horse that’s very stiff side-to-side. I got the forward in a posting trot and kept her on the bit. Somehow I kept her together around a 20-meter circle, then the full arena and cross the diagonal. Wow!
Things were far from perfect though. Let me count the ways.
I had to use my whip on the circle to get the forward. I got it alright and a buck for good measure. (Sensitive horse, sensitive horse.) I’m not very subtle with the whip. Yeah, subtle. Not my forte.
At times my legs stirred from their quiet slumber and I proceeded to rub her belly with my heels. Sigh. She is not a Buddha. Rubbing her belly will not bring me good luck. I may be rewarded with pinned ears and a buck but not luck. Remember to use the insides of my calves, on/off.
A few times my hands awoke too. Steady bridle! No head wagging! Right. Push her forward into my quiet hand.
Another time it was my feet. I was fishing for my stirrups. It annoyed me so, I can only imagine how the horse felt. Deep breathe. Find my feet. Ground them in the stirrups. Imagine dragging them through the sand…better yet, toes up. Relax your thigh and knee. Bingo!
Shhhh!
I’m riding effortlessly in silence.
I can barely hear my instructor’s voice.
Very Zen like.
Meditative.
