Breaking the Law: Every Action Does Not Need to Have an Equal and Opposite Reaction

When I taught, managing large classes was not always my strongest suite.  The class would get loud, rowdy, and I would get frustrated.  My knee jerk reaction was to use a louder, angry voice, subconsciously trying to match the energy level of the classroom.  Let me tell you how ineffective that is!  Believe it or not, the middle school teacher would approach this problem by whispering or saying nothing at all.  Surprisingly enough, most students would settle down when they realized that they weren't getting a reaction and were missing out on information.

Sometimes, riding an atomic mare requires meeting her dramatic moments with only the most subtle of aids or silence.  When I don't engage with her moments and stay centered, focusing myself on the task at hand, we are successful.  When all hope seemed lost in getting the left lead canter, keeping my hips and shoulders pointed in the right direction while staying calm was the final piece to teaching her she could stay balanced and pick up that lead.  Unfortunately, learning requires a lot of repetition, so it has been a struggle to make the non-reaction my response.

Finally, at Hitching Post Farm's schooling horse trial this weekend, I was able to mindfully apply the non reaction to jumping in a competition setting.  She was incredibly relaxed during jump warm up*, cantering easily to fences on a looped rein.  So I thought, "what the heck, I'm not going to touch my reins unless I have to."  As it turns out, I had no need to until an in and out that we in-ed and grazed off the B of... But, I can't blame her, we have schooled a bit angling in and out of elements of a combination without working on combinations this year.  She was fantastic once we went through the second time and I was clear with my directions.  As a result, I picked up the reins a bit and found the "too much" end of the spectrum.  She was a bit reactive to that, getting a bit squirrelly during the last bending line.  However, letting her be and focusing on finishing the course resulted in a completed course and a horse happy to start XC.

Suki was a bit all over the place when starting XC.  She had her eyes on everything, not just the jumps with the yellow flags.  Luckily, Hitching Post Farm has a great feel for what is appropriate for a schooling cross country course.  The first four fences were low, welcoming, and rounded, very unthreatening to a horse that didn't quite check in until the last minute.  Suki did not have an opportunity to formally school cross country before the event, so I considered the first few fences a means to jog her memory and find a rhythm.  I gave her a loose rein and sent her along where appropriate.  By giving her her freedom, unlike last year, I had a horse more inclined to respect my aids, such as when I asked her to walk off the down bank so she wouldn't get too aggressive.**

Jumping Fence 8
Nick Goldsmith Photography (used with permission)

The real test was the approach to fence eight.  I knew this could be a tricky fence as the approach turned toward the start box.  When I walked the course, I noted she could very easily try to run through her left shoulder and try to head for the start before noticing we were aiming for another fence set on a slanted uphill approach.  What do you know, she got going toward the start and threw a little bit of a fit about being blocked by my outside aids.  It took everything in my power to not get into it with her and make her go where I wanted.  Instead, I let go of her a bit, kept my shoulders and hips pointed toward the fence, and looked toward the approach to fence 9.  Low and behold, she came right out of her drama queen moment and jumped the fence beautifully.





* This may or may not have been related to the hack up a substantial hill the day before or the 45 minutes of dressage warm up.  If I have learned nothing else from Suki in the past year, it is that she functions better when she is just a little bit tired.

** Suki has a history of getting a little too game up and down banks.

Learning from Competitions

Ready to go to GMHA... and still clean!

This weekend, I headed off to GMHA not quite knowing what to expect.  Six weeks earlier, I sent in my entry for Suki’s first recognized event.  Already, the year had not started ideally; but, I was determined to meet my goals.  Hand surgery?  Psh.  Horse with an abscessed heal… icthamol.  Horse that pulls shoe off of the foot with the heel abscess?  My awesome farrier for putting the shoe back on ASAP.  What’s a total of two weeks off, really…

And then there was the jumping issue.  Or, rather, the lack of jumping.  We did have two very productive, back–to–back jump schools with Denny the weekend before.  However, that is not exactly enough for a green horse and a rusty jump rider.  Despite my horse’s innate ability to jump, the situation did affected my confidence going into the event.

I was very honest about how this altered my approach to the event with myself for about five minutes when I explained to Denny my goal was to go Beginner Novice; but, if things weren’t working out after dressage, I would withdraw.  Then, I went back to acting like everything was totally normal, despite all the pot holes along the way.

For once, I was very organized about how I packed for the event.  Generally a last minute, cram everything I own into the trailer and try to scrub it all the night before type of person, I paced out my cleaning and packing.  I made myself a morning of time table I followed strictly.  My horse was fabulously clean, thanks to some grooming tips from a coworker of mine.

In terms of time management and preparation, the bar was set for the season. 

In terms of competing itself, it turns out Suki and I have a bit of work to do.  My previous serious competition horse left me a little spoiled.  He would start the season were he left off the season before.  Our least season together, he spent a summer in the indoor, went down to Southern Pines, and schooled XC like he’d never had a break from it.  What I had forgotten was the amount of work I had put in the first years I had him to get him to that point.  It’s amazing how easy that is to forget.  So, I hopped on Suki, at least having the foresight to have a good friend of mine, Sarah, head her. After a snit–fit, she headed toward dressage.  She determined the bridge to the Upway rings was just terrifying, ignoring she had clambered across it like a school master the previous fall.  A kind young lady and her handsome grey horse gave us a lead across.  All the drama cut into our warm–up and that lead to… Lesson number one:  Suki needs more than a half hour schedule for warm up.  Not because she needs to be “tired out,” but to give her enough time to just digest (read: claim her domain over) new surroundings.

The extra time may have helped avoid something I never considered happening:  I was eliminated in dressage.

And no, to answer the ever present question, we did not leave the arena.  It turns out your horse is not allowed to decide to try to rewind and do the first part of their test backwards while you attempt to redirect them forward.  Who knew?  All because the corner by M became LAVA after the downward transition from the left lead canter.  Our “bad” lead.  Which we nailed, causing me to be very hopefully about how wonderful the rest of our test was going to be… for all of two seconds.

I determined she still had to do a little bit of work after we were graciously given the boot from the arena.  That flat work was lovely.  She always does best after elimination.  Or maybe her rider things eh, whatever, relaxes, and rides better.  Maybe.  Just maybe.

Lucky for me, another friend showed up to watch my show jump round.  And she reminded me that although I could not compete, that did not mean that Suki could not gain some invaluable warm–up ring experience.  So, off we went to show jump warm up.  Which, off all things at an event, is the thing I find the most nerve wracking.  We walked, we trotted, we cantered, she refused to go right past the in gate area, we discussed going where instructed, we had a melt down or three, and I became very glad that we were not allowed to jump.  However, I was equally glad I had a friend that reminded me that there was a schooling opportunity to take advantage of.  She goaded me into making figures and not worry so much about getting in other people’s ways.  That was an invaluable rider schooling experience.  And my little atomic mare, despite her explosions, became reacquainted with the idea that she can work in a chaotic environment.  Maybe next event, we can get back to where we left off last year: falling asleep after a relaxed warm–up until the ring steward lets us in for our round.  Another lesson: you can’t expect to pick up where you left off if where you left off wasn’t quite habit yet.  That takes repetition.