Pre-Lesson Anxiety is Kicking In

My next lesson is in three days (the big gap is from my work schedule and my trainer taking a deserved vacation).  Since my last lesson I've taken Thunder out a few times to do some easy work.  I've spent more time with horses in general.  I've studied horses and riding.  I've read books and articles, watched video after video (my Facebook followers can attest to that!), practiced at home, trained my muscles, and dreamt about what I'd look like with flawless equitation.  I think I'm ready.

At the very least, I'm ready to try my best.  The part that is keeping me awake at night, however, is the waiting.  I want to ride right now!  I've been walking around with a near-painful smile thinking about this lesson, and I can't wait.  It's almost to the point of walking around in my breeches and boots all the time and straddling the arm of the couch, a la little girls everywhere who are horse-crazy.

Three more sleeps until my next lesson...  Three more sleeps. I've got equitation swimming through my head, and I'm working on getting it to sink in to the rest of my body!

Fire in Your Eyes, Kick Those Butterflies

Today's post gets its title from the lyrics of one of my favorite "putting on the game face" songs, Kool and the Gang's "Victory," which is from their album Forever from 1986.  It definitely falls under the category of "oldie but goodie."  More than that, it's a positive message to pull yourself together and give it all you've got-- which is one we all need when those jitterbugs set in.

A ton of things make me jittery-- things that happen earlier in the day, things that happen right before my ride or during my ride, and especially... those nasty moments of doubt when I think to myself, "So many of today's riders have been going at this since they were little... I didn't start until my twenties.  Who am I kidding?!  I can't make up that kind of experience!!"

In order to pull myself together (which happens hopefully before I'm in the saddle, or a bad situation just gets worse), I try to remember that I could easily have just as much experience if I keep at it longer.  I have to work harder at training my brain, training my body, and keeping the butterflies to a minimum if I want to catch up to the other riders.  I can't get lazy because I'm really counting on the competition to get lazy.

This is all said by a woman who hasn't competed in years.  This is because, most importantly, I have to beat myself in the arena.  In every arena: the show ring (someday), the schooling ring, the lesson arena, even the empty-except-for-me-and-Thunder arena.  I want to get better with every single ride.  I want to teach my brain new concepts in between rides so that I've got a fuller toolbox to work with.  I try to practice doing my best.

Here's the original official music video for "Victory" to get each of us pumped up for our next ride!

Riding with No (Time) Limits

Today's post is about freeing up extra time to do things we can't necessarily do in our lessons and taking away the preconceptions we have about "what counts" when we ride.  We'll talk about making the most of time in the saddle and also taking the time to be around and communicate with horses when you're not in the saddle.  One-hour, concentrated lessons are one way to learn and create equine partnerships; short, casual rides are another; taking time to care for our horse companions, or to simply spend time with them on the ground, is another still.  All of these things are important aspects of establishing a working partnership between horse and rider.

Since I started this blog I've had three lessons; this doesn't sound like much at all.  In each lesson, I've tried hard to rehabilitate the muscles which have atrophied during my break from riding, regain my balance, strength, and confidence, and to learn as much as I can about how my aids affect my horse.  In some ways the lessons have been too few to really come any great distance, in other ways they have brought me much further, at a pace that I can't maintain by sitting on the couch.  The answer lies completely in practicing outside of lessons.

After a "bad" lesson in which I realized I was mentally and physically in different places, I came to the conclusion that an hour a week or every-other-week was not going to be enough.  You might remember how I sucked up all my courage and went out for (what surprised me as being) a pretty fantastic ride on my old friend, Thunder.  I also added one night a week volunteering to do stable chores at the non-profit equestrian program I have worked with in the past.  This again, doesn't seem like much, but is much more than I had been doing for years.

When you take the time to care for horses, rather than "ride and return to stall," the lessons you learn offer great insight into how horses naturally react, behave, and how these things can work for you as you ride.  You learn how a horse might move when a sudden noise or movement spooks him.  You also might learn how your casual touch affects his body language-- which can be a major help when you try to collect him in the saddle later.  You learn to take your time around horses, knowing that you have much more time to learn than just the one hour you have while your trainer is watching.

This phenomenon of "taking one's time" also applies to the time you practice in the saddle.  You have as much or as little time as you ever need.  You may casually ride for longer, or you may ride intensively for a shorter amount of time.  I went out for a visit to Thunder on Thursday evening, and I literally spent twice as much time brushing him as I did in the saddle.  I pet him, I brushed, tacked, led him around on a lead rope through the arena, rode for a mentally intense and focused twenty minutes, then led him around some more, untacked, brushed, pet him, and put him away. Some riders would think this was a waste of time, driving all the way out there to only ride for a few minutes, but I feel as though I have no reason to rush around to ride for hours all in one day.  As he worked hard in those twenty minutes, including a mentally focused but physically effective warm-up and cool-down period, I don't see that I have to push him for hours to "make it count."  There's no minimum requirement of ride time unless I make it so.

Furthermore, I think he appreciates that I come out to visit with him.  He likes that some days, we only get to the "hard work" in small amounts, while spending most of our time getting to know each other and establishing trust.  Will every visit be so short and so devoid all that hard stuff that I make him do?  Certainly not.  But why not let your horse know how it feels to enter into the arena without fear of being run into the ground; of being there to play, work, and then play again?  Most importantly, he can learn to associate you with pleasant experiences, trust, a teammate that wants to work together rather than boss him around with no reward.  This isn't to say that perhaps the next time I visit I won't expect a longer working session, it's to say "we can have fun together while we work."

We can learn about horses and riding in so many ways, I think we cheat ourselves if we only stick to one, full-of-rules approach to learning.  The trainers I've spoken to would certainly agree that a lot of learning to ride and being a good student comes from the work we do outside of our lessons.  Just like in music and sports, we have to practice outside of our formal lessons to make the most of our trainer's time (and the time we pay for) during  lessons.

Lessons in Learning

I'm finally blogging about my lesson on Wednesday.  Some of you readers who are on my Facebook page, Sonata Equestrian, have already heard a little bit about how unhappy I was with my performance.  The lesson itself (what my trainer was trying to teach me) was very good, but I was pretty disappointed with all the "Rookie Mistakes" I made, and was very glad to have pulled it together a little bit in the end.  The important thing to remember about any time that we hit a challenge is never to give up and never to attack ourselves if we come up a little shorter than we had hoped.  If we throw stress and pressure on our shoulders at one lesson, and carry it with us to the next, eventually it's going to be too much for us to bear.

Let's talk about some of these "Rookie Mistakes."  The first thing we all need to remember is that there's no shame in being a real rookie; we all start somewhere.  I happen to think there's a lot of bravery in the phrases, "I don't know how to do that yet," "I haven't learned that yet," "Could you tell me that again?  That's new to me," and "I'm not comfortable in trying that until I really understand what you're asking me."  Rookies are the bravest riders out there because they're the ones who are trying something they never did before.  I, however, can't say that I'm a rookie to the material we went over in my lesson.  I knew better (but somehow forgot) when it came down to taking action.

My lesson literally started off on the wrong foot-- namely, mine.  I let the horse step on my foot.  To rookies, this is almost a rite of passage.  When you're starting out, eventually you're going to be distracted by something, and leave your foot where it will get stepped on.  It's not a purely "rookie" move to make, either, as horses are unpredictable animals.  But the way I did it screamed "Rookie!" all the way.  I was putting him in cross-ties, and as I was turning him around, I pivoted on my feet leaving my now-hind foot behind me and in his way.  (To all the true rookies: always take full steps in a semi-circle when you turn a horse around so that your feet are under you and not under him.  If you do get stepped on, do not try to pull it out from under him, but simply encourage him to move it off.  If he has room to back up, nudge his shoulder so he can take a step back.  If he doesn't have that room, give him the space in front of him to move forward.  Don't squeal, get mad at him, hit him, or jump around like a fool-- there's no reason to make a bad situation worse by scaring him.)  So I got stepped on.  Not badly, broken-footed, stepped on... but "Goooooooood Morning, there's a horse on my foot!"  stepped on.

***For some folks, I might have recommended x-rays, etc.  If you have persistent pain, if it looks worrisome, if there's ANY bleeding, or if you've got a nagging feeling that you should have it checked out, go to the doctor.  Don't ever play around with injuries that could cause lasting damage.  My foot has only a little bruising, and there wasn't any pain whatsoever after the first day.  I have full range of motion, and as a ballerina, I've put it through its regular workout with no trouble at all.

The problem with starting off on the wrong foot is that we tend to stay distracted and careless in our actions once we start; which is exactly what happened to me as much as I hate to admit it.  From the start to almost-finish of my lesson, my head wasn't really in the game.  I was thinking about my foot which still throbbed a little at the time, I was thinking about how stupid I felt because I'd let myself get stepped on, I was thinking really hard about stretching my heels down and trying to remember all the things I'd said I'd work on in my last blog--  in short, I wasn't thinking at all about what I was doing in the moment.  This is obviously something we should not do.  There's something to be said for trying harder to improve the shortcomings of the prior lesson, but it does a rider no good to focus on last week's ride when this week's ride is happening in the now.

I was distracted.  When a rider is distracted, they come off-balance, their hands become less quiet, and their ability to read the arena and "steer" drops off before they even notice.  That was me.  As I made turns, I dropped my inside shoulder like I was on a motorcycle.  On the straight, my hands bounced around and I let the reins slip through my fingers, giving up my control.  Over jumps, I was making my move too late.  Luckily, my trainer kept her patience and made reminders that brought me back down to earth (and back to a much safer, more aware ride).

So that was my lesson.  The good news is, I did learn a few things, so I didn't waste it.  The "even better" news is that I'll do much better next time.

I won't actually have a lesson for a few weeks, so I'm making a point to go out and see Thunder in the meantime.  I stopped out there for a visit two days ago and I had a really lovely ride on him.  He's always been a bit spooky indoors, so we've always had to "show him around" on the longe line across the arena or take him around on a lead line to prove to him that nothing was going to pop out of the corner and eat him.  After leading him around, I mounted up, and we did some really great walk/trot work.  After I was satisfied with that, I took off his saddle and pad and we went around bareback for a while, too.  I have to say, I missed that horse much more than I ever thought I did.  Although I believe that he didn't necessarily "miss" me, I think he appreciated seeing my familiar face, and he really appreciated getting back to the hard work he was trained to do.  He was trained years ago by the same woman who gave me my first lessons, and I have to applaud her good work with him, and thank her for helping get me started doing something I'd always wanted to do.  I'd still be "SoNOTa" Equestrian if it wasn't for her.

I'll report more after I get out and ride some more this week, which brings up my final point about Making Mistakes:  Let your mistakes drive you forward, rather than push you backward.  Having a tough time doing something just means you should do it more often, rather than giving up and not doing it at all.