Make it hurt, Cupcake!

Well, as a result of my unplanned dismount at NWEC, I've had a chance for self-reflection and I've decided to make some changes.  Good riders don't get good by playing sunshine and daisies.  They get good by getting tough and digging in the dirt.  I ride alone most of the time.  I get to take a lesson every couple of months, so there's no one watching me or challenging me, and even if there was, no one should be able to push me harder than I've pushed  myself.  It's time to make it hurt, Cupcake.

Step One:  Toss the stirrups

That's right.  I took them off my saddle and unceremoniously tossed them in the tack trunk.  They will not see the light of day until the Aspen Farms Horse Trials on June 4th (I will make an exception for the two days of Inavale horse camp).  It's been a great boost to my pride to hear at Adult Rider Camp and in lessons that my leg is beautiful and strong- I've worked hard on it.  But, I need to be stronger in my seat and I need a better control of my body. 

See?  I'm not making it up!  And yes, that's Mac's BAMF pad (bad as@ Mother F#c%er).

Step Two:  No Straight Lines

We can jump through grids with our eyes closed.  There are no grids in a competition.  It's about rideability between fences, so we're working on jumps off turns, related distances, short distances, long distances, adjustability. 

I've set up an exercise courtesy of Boyd Martin, and due to my arena's size restrictions, I've made it harder. 

Jump the flowers.

Sharp turn, jump the bounce on the center line.

Sharp turn, jump the one stride. 

Because the turns are so tight, you need to come in a compact, organized canter, and be looking and opening your rein for the turn to the next jump. 

Step Three: Combine Steps One and Two

Yikes.  I'm not gonna lie, tight turns, hot horse, no stirrups- you better toughen up, Cupcake!

Right now the exercise is just set with cross rails, but as I become stronger, we'll raise them.  Hopefully, at the end of the month I'll be cruising through all sorts of twisty exercises set at Training height with no stirrups.

Now, for some first impressions:

Oh my lord, crotch burn.  I may need padded undies.

Oh my lord, my thighs burn. 

Wow, it's amazing how quickly you become aware of your body.  The first few times over fences, my focus was all about, "Oh my gawd, stay on!"  But as I continued, I became aware of smaller things, for example:  he took off, I could feel my weight slightly shifted to the right and I felt minutely unbalanced, I actually focused on correcting the balance, so when we landed, I was evenly sitting in the middle of my horse.

I'm also finding that no stirrup helps Mac, too.  I think he just had an epiphany and realized that Mom doesn't just stay on no matter what.  He is actually responsible for me, too.  After blasting through the exercise the first few times, he really slowed down and maintained an even tempo for me, making it easier to stay balanced.  He also stopped running off after the fence and maintained that quiet rhythm.

And should you decide to try this at home, I will give you my number one, super-best tip ever:  Beer Helps.

Eat Dirt, Cupcake!

What better way to start my blog than to tell you about my first event of the season, aka the day I ate dirt.

Tooey and set out for the Northwest Equestrian Center in Rainier, WA.  It was the first event of the season for Area VII and our first Training Level.  I was determined to rock it. 


As is often the case in the Great Northwest, the weather was not cooperating.  We pulled in in a downpour, set up in a downpour, went to bed in a downpour, woke up in a downpour, warmed up in a downpour, rode in a downpour... rinse, wash, repeat.


Despite being wet and the ground being an evil suction monster pulling at our feet, dressage went really well.  I warmed up for an hour- before you scream at me for animal cruelty, most of that hour was spent at the walk suppling and softening him.  I really focused on using the tools we learned at Adult Rider Camp last month.  I worked on slowing him down, getting a consistent rhythm, softening the jaw, lowering the neck. 


And it worked!  We rode in and scored a 35!  That's the lowest we've ever received on a test, and this test was way harder than Novice.  We scored mostly 7s, a couple 6s, and a 5 on our stretchy trot circle, or should I say our non-existent stretchy trot circle.  I almost started laughing in the middle of the test because it went something like this: Working trot, lengthen, working trot, lengthen, circle, letting reins loosen -"Oh my gawd, Mom, WHAT are you DOING?!  We're in the middle of a dressage test!"  And Mac dutifully ignored my loosening of the reins, diligently remaining on the bit despite my obvious lapse in judgement, determined to salvage our test.  I had to show him the test later to prove that there is in fact a stretchy trot circle written into the test.  We'll nail it next time!  We ended up 16th out of 39, and most of the scores above us (with the exception of 1st and 2nd who had 28s!) were between 33 and 34 points, we weren't far off.  I also should note that last year we were always in the bottom five after dressage.

Tooey and I walked cross country three times.  In the rain.  Every time.  I had jumped nearly every jump on course while schooling, so I was feeling pretty good.  That was my first mistake. 

 The only fence I was really worried about was fence #4, the Snowy River Hill.  It starts out like this: you cruise along through the woods, turn left, and see this tiny, tiny little bank...

 

The problem is that this tiny, tiny bank teeters on the edge of this precipice:  A very steep downhill run.

Just for a little perspective, here's the view looking up the hill.  You can barely see the bank.

 

At the bottom of the hill you come out into a clearing and turn sharply to the water complex:

 

I was so worried about that hill.  It was the one part of the course I'd never done.  Would he jump down the drop?  Would he get heavy and run away with me?  I wasn't worried about the water.  I'd jumped the water many, many times, heck, I'd even done the Prelim log next to ours, no problem.  Good riders need to anticipate potential problems.  Good riders realize there is more that influences your ride than just the jump in front of you.  I'm not a good rider yet, and I'm learning it the hard way.


The whole first part of the course is in the woods.  It's secluded, quiet.  You jump down the Snowy River Hill and pop out of the trees and are immediately confronted with a water complex, a big crowd of people, an ambulance, two cars, the jump judge.  It's a lot to look at.  And that was question, really.  Just like you should anticipate your horse's reaction to jumping from light to dark, you should anticipate your horse's reaction to a big heap of potential distractions!  How will you keep his attention?  I should have circled.  I should have trotted through the water on the side to get his attention, then turned and jumped in through the flags.  But I didn't.  With Mac's head up, looking around, I turned directly to our fence.  At the last second he realized there was a jump at his feet, ducked his shoulder out, and I came off.  Landing flat on my back on the log.  Ouch.  There goes my pride.  Double Ouch.  Bless his heart though, Mac didn't run away.  He immediately stopped and stood there with a hang dog expression while I picked myself up.  He's not stupid.  He knows that Mom is supposed to stay in the saddle.


So, there you go.  And RF next to my name.  Rider Fall and automatic elimination.  I've never fallen off at a show before, I guess there's a first for everything.  And so we start our Training Level journey at the absolute bottom.  It can only go up from here, right?