Riding Reflection: Puddle Practice

I made it to the barn yesterday with the intentions of giving my horse a short ride in a nice stretchy frame, so I could see how he felt after our long lining session.  I was really curious if there would be any immediate effect on his carriage and consistency in the bridle.  With a thunderstorm in the morning, I was not sure if I would be able to ride at all, but by lunchtime the sun was shining and the rain clouds had moved on their way.  That is how it is these days in New Jersey: intense heat and humidity, sudden storms, and then sunshine.  I feel like I live in Florida.

And then I saw the small riding ring.  Puddles!  There were puddles and standing water everywhere and one large body of water that was about three inches deep and nearly as wide as the ring.  Yes!  We could actually school through puddles.  It is not like I am eager to go to another show in a downpour, but at least I had a chance to work with something that was clearly uncomfortable riding conditions.  I still planned to work on stretching his frame and assessing his obedience to the contact and connection, but now we could do this with the added challenge of water under our feet.  I was seriously excited.

I tacked up Harley.  I marched him over to the ring with the puddles.  I pointed him at the first puddle and asked him to walk through and what did he do?

Just that.  He walked right through and even reached down and dragged his lip in the water.  He came up with water droplets on his face.

Okay.

After we moseyed through all the puddles in the ring several times in both directions, I asked Harley to trot right in the biggest, ankle deep puddle.  I asked him to stay on the contact and keep the stretch in his frame as he made the transition.  With only a moments hesitation, Harley was trotting and stretching his neck down toward the water.

What?!

I trotted him all around the ring, puddle after puddle, with the same relaxed horse.  The only puddles that he even tried to avoid where little shallow ones that he could easily step around, but I still brought him back and made him ride straight through every one.  I didn't just tell him where to go.  I told him how to go there.

After lots of "Good Boys" and neck pats it was time to canter through the water.  Again, I asked for the first transition right in the middle of the lake.  As Harley picked up the lead, I was careful to remind him to keep reaching to the contact by sponging the outside rein, like the long lining lesson the day before.  He was good about it and complied for nearly every canter depart.  Once, he popped his butt up instead of lifting his withers.  I immediately stopped him and asked for the transition again.  The second time, he did it correctly.  I used the same full halt strategy when he tried to surge forward in trot, blowing off my half halt like the day before.  After one halt, I had my half-halt back.  He shifted his weight back in trot after the canter on the very next request.  I no longer had twenty pounds in my hands or an anticipating horse.  I finally felt justified in the previous days work, but I need to remember that once does not make training.  I need to build the consistency and work in the lines regularly.

A little bit of tension creeped in while cantering through the puddles.  Finally, something to work on!  I put my outside leg on and held the outside rein, insisting that he let his back go.  We continued to canter circles through the same puddle until he stayed in the same body position, before and after the puddle.  Strangely, he was much easier to canter through the big puddle than he was the smaller ones, just like in the trot.  I guess the large puddle was big enough that there did not seem much point in trying to go around it.  It did make some exciting splashes though.  I enjoyed the "ker-plunk" sound as Harley's feet met the water.  I was delighted by the cadenced feel of his gaits as he moved through the largest puddle, even circling within the water and practicing transitions.

And we did the stretchy trot in the deepest, biggest puddle!  Harley stretched his neck down and forward in a lovely fluid way.  He did not speed up.  He kept contact with the reins and he felt supple over his back.  It did not take much effort on my part and it certainly did not feel difficult.

I have only ridden Harley three times since the horse show which was two weeks ago on Sunday.  He had one long line session and seven days off since then.  I am not a magical trainer.  I know that riding through puddles at home is not the same as riding a test under pressure in an unfamiliar setting, but based on the extreme displeasure that he demonstrated in the waterlogged ring at the show, I expected something similar as we splashed through the puddles in the small ring yesterday. 

Harley was a completely different horse.  He did not resemble a horse that has a disdain for water.  He did not spook, sidestep, or invert through the water.  I am not sure that the small puddles that he did try to step around would have even been noticeable to a casual on-looker.  It was more a slight crookedness that I could feel in his body and it was pretty easy to remedy.

I am starting to think that the water was not the major problem at the show two weeks ago.  There is just no way that I could have made that huge a dent in a serious evasion in that short a time.  I also do not think that I could have improved my effectiveness as a rider or my horse's training that quickly and without any outside help.

So what was it Mr. Harley?  Show nerves?  The trailer ride?  The thunder and rain combined with the new environment?  A lack of proper warm up letting you relax your back (or mind)?

At two shows a year, he is not a seasoned campaigner.  Maybe I underestimated how stressful that entire situation really was for him.  I am so proud of him for sticking with me and trying to go everywhere that I asked, even if he was not going the way I wanted him to.

"Neener neener, puddles"

I just knew my horse could do it.  That was the Harley I was expecting!

Riding Reflection: Speed and Stretch

Even though our schooling show experience was just that, a schooling experience, I felt a little disarmed the week after.  I gave Harley Monday off and took him for a short ride on Tuesday, but he didn't feel good to me at all.  He didn't want to maintain gait, especially in the canter, and he just did not feel confident.  I guess that was the same way that I was feeling.  This was clearly a chicken and the egg situation, so rather than try to figure it out, I just decided that we could both use a few days off.  I focused on grooming and hand-grazing for the week, as well as my summer riding students, a graduation party, and a new addition to the family!  Harley has a new human cousin and I am an aunt for the first time.  Pretty amazing and a nice change of focus after a hectic week.

By the time Monday rolled around, I was itching to get back in the saddle.  A girl can only go so long without a ride, but Harley's feet needed a trim and I could not let it go even just one more day, so I ate a banana, trimmed all four feet with sweat dripping off my brow, and then tacked up and rode.  I thought that Harley might not feel like focusing after standing for over an hour to have his feet trimmed, but he also wanted some action and was eager to ride again.

I decided to allow the schooling show to do its job and show us what we needed to work on, even if there were some hurt feeling associated with the judge's bedside manner.  I put that out of my mind and focused on productive feedback only:

Suppleness over the back and speeding up in the stretchy trot (and not stretching)

Those two observations pretty much sum up Harley's nervous reactions: become tense and speed up.  Thanks to many years of working together, Harley does not display these characteristics as much at home as he used to and he is much, much easier to console and bring back down to Earth than when I first began riding him.  He used to turn into a nervous wreck after the first canter.  I believe that this came from some initial barrel training that he received as a young horse and I use the turn "training" loosely.  He came to me with a barrel saddle that had been won in some kind of competition, but I do not know the story behind it.  All I know if that my horse was very, very difficult to retrain to a nice canter, especially on the left lead and man can he get strong.  I have ridden some big horses: draft crosses, warmbloods, Fjords with huge necks, and a full Percheron, and none have felt as strong as Harley feels when his engine is revved.  The power is exciting, but I would happily trade the speed and excitement for carrying power.  That is how I want Harley to use his gift.

Noting these observations, I decided to ride with suppleness and tempo in mind.  At the beginning of the ride, this was no problem.  Harley moved into the bridle easily and warmed up with a moderate tempo.  I added some transitions between trot and walk and trot and canter to bring up his energy and increase the challenge.  This was when I got a chance to feel some tension creeping in.  Harley did want to tighten his neck (and therefore his back) here and there, so I kept my outside rein ready and kind of caught him with it each time that he wanted to tighten and therefore shorten his neck.  I was careful not to pull his head and neck down, as this would be counter productive to balance, but I did take a strong hold on the outside and I used my outside leg quite a lot to keep him in that rein.  I know that the Dressage Central Dogma (molecular bio reference for the science fans!) is "inside leg to outside rein", but outside leg to outside rein keeps Harley on the bit and balanced more effectively.  Too much inside leg seems to tip him over and encourages me to collapse the inside of my ribcage.  Keeping him on the outside rein helped him stay soft over his back, but it was a lot more work for me than I expected.  I could see where I needed to step up my rider effectiveness.  I was not being careful enough about my seat and feeling the energy starting at his hind legs.  I feel like I am always working for better basics, but how did I miss those?  That is dressage for you.  One thing gets better and then another thing looks worse, repair that and something else pops up.  The rider has to remember to look back at the whole picture, because chances are the general picture has improved, but it is hard to see that when you are working on one little thing at a time.

Besides feeling much more effortful for me, I also noticed that Harley felt heavier in the bridle as we worked on really letting his back go.  I was not crazy about this, but I decided to accept it for the time being.  I did not want to confuse him or invite tension in his back by insisting that he lighten up in the same ride.  I had flashbacks of riding the big Mare who used to hang on me and gave me huge biceps, but I shoved them aside for now.  One thing at a time.

Once Harley was feeling consistent and before I got too tired, we took a walk break.  I thought about our next objective: tempo.  Tempo is not something that I can forget, even for one ride.  I feel like that is something that I work on all the time, especially because I have a horse who likes to scoot ahead rather than carry behind.  His tempo had felt pretty good so far and I wondered if maybe that had just been a side effect of the lack of suppleness over his back, but then I made a discovery.  I started trotting Harley around with a nice connection and then I softened the reins.  I didn't throw them away.  I didn't extend my elbows.  I just lightened the feel in my hand a little tiny bit. 

And guess what he did?

He sped up.

Uh-oh.  That is a big dressage no-no.  How did this happen?  Has this been the case for a long time or is this something new?  By the way, that is not how I have been asking him to do his big trot, which requires a stronger feel on the reins.  Whatever the case, it became obvious right then what we needed to do.  I started repeating the exercise of softening my hands and looking to see if he changed tempo, which he did over and over again.  Then I added a half-halt after the softening, followed immediately by another release of the rein.  We must have looked like a new driver trying to figure out a stick-shift car, because there was a lot of speeding up and then stalling and then speeding up again.  I did not punish him for speeding up, I just decided that I needed to explain to him that he was not supposed to change tempo, even if I gave him the reins.  His nose went forward, which is good, but he was losing his balance every time that he changed tempo (or the tempo change was revealing that he was not balancing as well as I had hoped).  Eventually, he began to understand.  The half-halt came through more quickly and he maintained trot, but shifted his weight back.  I gave the reins slightly and he did not speed up.  Excellent!  Walk break and pats.

I realized at this point, that the stretchy trot would be the ultimate test of suppleness and tempo control.  If Harley was not released in his back, he would not stretch.  If his balance was not back or he was not responsible for his own tempo, he would speed up instead of stretching.  I had to think of speed as the enemy of stretch and I did my best to keep my balance back by sitting tall.  The game became "How slowly can you stretch, Harley?"

I saw some improvement and ended on a good note, but I can see that this game needs to be added to our routine in the second half of our ride.  I usually practice stretchy trot in the warm up, but he feels like a completely different horse then: relaxed and mellow.  Asking him for the same exercise after canter-work is an entirely different thing.  I need to go there every ride, if we want to improve in this area.

And we do!

Stretchy trot fail at the July 2012 show: Harley says, "Not today, lady."

Harley showing nice stretch in the lengthen stride at the October 2011 show.

Memoirs: A Horse Girl's Dressage Show Misadventure

It was an experience.  I am not quite sure where to begin.  How about with something nice.

Harley is a little girl magnet.  I saw exactly one little girl at the horse show and she came up to my horse right away.  Before I could introduce her to him, she was right next to him, stroking his nose and his neck, with eyes like saucers and a toothy grin.  Harley obliged her and stood like a statue despite the very unusual situation we found ourselves in.  I decided they had already met and instead introduced myself.  That little horse girl pretty much made my day, because not too much went well yesterday.  I just think about her smiling face and my horse's sweet expression and know that he is a wonderful and amazing boy, no matter what.  Thanks, fellow horse girl.

Weather wise, the good news is that there was not a heat wave yesterday.  The bad news is that it thunder-stormed and rained all day long.  My husband and I followed the trailer in a separate vehicle, so needless to say, my heart was in my throat when I heard thunder in the distance and it started to monsoon.  My horse and his trailer disappeared from sight when traffic at a toll separated us from the barn owners.  I couldn't help feeling a little sick.  I would not have been able to forgive myself if something happened to my dear horse, because we tried to trailer to a low-key schooling show.  Why didn't I just call up and scratch before we left or turn around and go home?  Well, the weather has been really strange around here lately.  It reminds me of Florida.  The weather forecast says "isolated thunderstorms" almost everyday, even though they do not happen every day, and sometimes it pours for twenty minutes while the sun is shining and then goes away.  So I conferred with the barn owners before we left and decided that we might as well just go.  Our destination was less than an hour away, so we decided to persevere.

I teach a science curriculum by profession, but a teacher's job also includes instilling certain values in young people.  One of the character qualities that I try to encourage is perseverance.  I like to think that this quality is rewarded in the face of opposition, unfortunately this is not always the case.  And, dually unfortunately for me, was not the case for us yesterday.  Ready for the gritty details?

We were separated from the trailer and arrived at the show grounds on our own.  The trailer had been well ahead of us, so when we arrived I fully expected my horse to be waiting for me, but he was no where to be seen.  I immediately became very nervous.  I tried calling, but it took a couple tries to get through.  Apparently, we had somehow passed them on route.  I did not feel better until I saw the trailer pull up about ten minutes later.

Harley was not totally soaked coming out of the trailer, but the windows had let a fair amount of rain in, leaving his face and sides streaked with water.  Thankfully, he is a sensible guy and did not seem too worried about this, although I did see that he barely touched his hay and had a loose manure in the trailer.  His pretty calm demeanor coming off the trailer was misleading.  Harley was nervous.  After checking him over and letting him mosey around and pick at some grass, I handed him to my husband and opened the tack room section of the trailer.

Uh-oh.  All of my gear was wet.  I forgot about those little windows with grates at the front of the trailer.  They were open, which is normally a good thing, but the rain had been beating down with a determination to drench everything I owned and it nearly succeeded.  I brushed it off, realizing that my gear was about to get soaked anyway, if I was going to go through with the tests.  The only saving grace was that the facility had an indoor, which I had been told was available for warm up.  Thank goodness.  All I could think about was getting in there.  At least I could give my horse the experience of riding somewhere new and maybe get a few positive moments out of a quickly deteriorating experience.

I found out that there was a place for me to change (I normally change in the trailer, but that would have been very unpleasant).  I was so, so grateful for that dry bathroom.  I took a few moments to compose myself.  I gave myself a pep talk.

"We are going to go out there and do our best.  The score doesn't matter.  We are here so let's make an experience out of it.  We can still take something worthwhile away from this."

I left the bathroom in my new, dry, show clothes and headed back outside.  Unfortunately, Mother Nature had decided that it wasn't raining quite enough yet.  She opened the flood gates and let out a down pour.

My husband and I walked back to the trailer, he with an umbrella and me with a rain coat, to find that my horse had been untacked and he was being asked to go back on the trailer.  I saw his nervous expression and raised tail and knew that he was not happy about going in a trailer in a downpour.  Of course the intention was to get my tack and my horse out of the rain, which I appreciate, but it just didn't work out.  One of many things on a growing list!  I was thankful for the efforts on my behalf.

My ride time was fast approaching, so I decided to take my horse and my tack to the indoor, tack up there and get on.  The rain was coming down in sheets, so tying him to the trailer and tacking up there was just not possible.  It was indoor or bust, so off we went.  My husband and a friend, who was a very, very welcomed helper, carried my gear as I led Harley.  I swear he stole a look at me that said,

"Woman, you have got to be kidding me."

I apologized to him silently.  I fully admit that my horse has better sense than me, but I was persevering.

I. was. persevering.

I was not going to give up just yet.  And I was careful to thank everyone who was helping me and profusely.  I understood that they were just as drenched and just as miserable as I was.  I kept that in my mind all the time.

We made it to the barn, only to find that the indoor was unavailable for warm up.  What?!  I was given a reason, but looking outside and seeing what the weather was doing, I just could not believe it.  Of all the days to close an indoor arena.  I felt a little shattered, but decided that I had no choice but to invite myself into the barn aisle.

"Please, just let me stand here and tack up my horse."

I was close to begging and that's when the cute little girl starting fawning over Harley who stood like a rock, despite the pouring rain, the unfamiliar barn full of new smells and new horses, and his owner's desperation.  He just stood there and he looked cute.  Cuteness does come in handy.  I think this was why we were allowed to hang around for a few minutes.  I am pretty sure that it is not typical to tack up anywhere but at your own trailer at a horse show, but like I said, there was a monsoon outside.  I believe this qualified as an unusual situation.

I accepted the fact that we would have to warm up in the pouring rain (the thunder had stopped).  I accepted the fact that we were going to get totally drenched, including my leather tack.  I accepted the fact that we were not going to get a good score today.  And then I decided to scratch the Second Level test.  That test was very challenging for us under the best of conditions.  Yesterday, it just would have been foolish.

Remember my warm up plan?  Completely went out the window.  Our warm up area was very small at maybe a third the size of a standard dressage arena, on wet grass, with standing water, and uneven terrain.  I had to be very conservative.  We did trot and canter, but I asked Harley to keep everything very small and controlled.  This is the complete opposite of how Harley likes to start out a ride.  His back simply never warmed up fully.  Some cantering and a few transitions helped, but there was no way to let him stretch safely, in my opinion.  He was listening, my sweet boy, but he was very tense.  He tried for me and that is all I can ask of him.  I love my horse.

I took a deep breath and we entered the show arena.  You can see in the pictures that there is a lake near "C" and standing water throughout most of the ring.  This was no one's fault and could not be helped.  You would think that since I was riding the sensible quarter horse, I would have had the advantage under these conditions, but that was not the case at all.  I watched a couple other riders ride their tests (I only saw about five riders brave the weather yesterday), and their horses marched through the puddles without much trouble.  I was pretty surprised, actually.

"Okay, maybe this isn't going to be that bad.  If they can do it, we can do it, too."

Wrong.  Very wrong was I.

First Level Test 3 was a train wreck.  Just about the worst test I have ever ridden in competition.  The only one that was worse was the Training Level ride on Blue, when I was first starting out, but that was for completely different reasons.  I didn't choke during the test.  I stayed present for the entire monstrous thing.  I smiled and shook my head a few times, but I kept it going.  I am the queen of keeping a test going.  No reader.  Just me and Harley and a burning determination to ride the pattern even if it barely looked like a dressage test.  At some point it became an exercise in getting it done, going through those puddles, and trying to ride a few nice strides here and there.  We broke gait about half a dozen times.  Harley absolutely refused to canter through the lake at "C".  He also had no stretch over his back so no stretchy trot, which was also supposed to happen in the lake.  Relaxation is one of the first elements on the training scale and we just didn't have it.  I cannot rebalance my horse when he is tense and tight.  Half-halts were a distant memory.  To his credit, he did not hop around, buck, spook, or do anything dangerous and we did manage one shallow counter canter loop on the left lead, when leaving the dreaded "Lake C".  What he did do, was raise his neck, drop his back, and lift his legs as high as he could to avoid the puddles.  He rushed around the arena and no amount of clever aiding or soothing on my part was going to convince him otherwise.  How the other non-quarter horses sauntered through those puddles without coming off the aids or losing frame is beyond me.  They still looked very nice, even in the pouring rain.  I guess they were just much better than us.  I could see that and I chose to ride anyway.

So my biggest disappointment, is that the judge didn't recognize our perseverance or the horrendous riding conditions.  I smiled at her as we headed down the centerline and turned left at "C" to begin our test.  We started off with a string of sixes, and during the test, I thought for a moment that maybe we were going to pull it off, but then Harley let me know that this was not our day.  During the second leg yield off my right leg, which is so easy we can do it in our sleep, Harley broke to walk, ignored my insistent leg taps, and proceeded to drop manure right in front of the judge.  At that point, the reality of the situation pretty much hit me.  I still continued to ride.  I still sought softness and connection and balance, they were just beyond my reach.  But I still tried for them for every step of the test.

When I halted in front of the judge to discuss the ride, I thought she was going to say something of our efforts.  Something witty or light-hearted would have been nice:

(in my words)
"Nice weather we're having, isn't?"
"So your horse doesn't like puddles, does he?"
"Bring your swimmies next time it rains."
Or even just,
"Thanks for coming out and riding."

Then lay it on me.  I can take it.  I knew that our ride was terrible, but so were the conditions and the day.  The judge did no such thing.  She began by asking if this was our first dressage show (ouch) and then proceeded to list every single thing that we did wrong.  I shelved my smile and replaced it with my game face.

"Okay.  Okay.  Okay.  Yes.  Thank you."

I can take the low scores.  I can take the 51%.  I know that is not indicative of what we can do.  I believe in my horse and myself.  What I have trouble swallowing is the disdain that the judge seemed to hold for us.  I mean it.  She seemed disgusted or maybe even insulted by our presence and our performance.  My husband said that she was probably having a bad day.  I get that, but we all were, and it is worth noting that she was sitting in a covered gazebo dishing it out while I was soaked to the bone.  She did not say even one nice thing to me and did not write anything encouraging on my test.  I hope that is very unusual for dressage judges.  It was certainly something that I have not seen before and hope not to see again.  And this was supposed to be a "laid-back" schooling show.  Whoa.  It didn't come off that way to me.  I saw some serious competitors, some serious horse flesh, and a very serious judge.  I am serious, too, but of more modest means.

So all in all, it was a bust.  Worst show experience of my life.  I am so, so grateful for my husband, my friend, and the barn owners.  They were such awesome people to come with me and spend their Sunday under those conditions.  My husband was so incredibly supportive.  He did everything from playing chauffeur to holding Harley, to being a human saddle rack, taking pictures, getting yelled at for holding an umbrella near the barn, navigating shore (tourist) bumper-to-bumper traffic on the drive home, helping me clean out the trailer later on, and then consoling me when we got home and the inevitable hurt set in.  I can only hold it together for so long.  I mean, I am human, and I do care a great deal about my riding and my horse.  I did not seek to fail, but, unfortunately, I did.  I am rarely in that position.  I should just take the bitter pill and move on.  It doesn't change anything that really matters.  Really.  I am very lucky.

I will try to remember the support of my husband and friends and the gigantic smile of the little girl petting Harley.  One bystander commented that Harley would be a good horse for the girl to ride.  Although she was unbelievably sweet and genuine, I am going to have to disappoint her there.  Harley belongs to this horse girl, and with me he shall stay!

Harley may not be a lot of things, but one thing is for sure: he is a good horse and he is a dressage horse.  I do not care who contests it.  We will just have to agree to disagree.

"C" is at our right as we enter the lake.  Harley's expression basically says it all.

Harley's carousel horse impression after breaking gait:  He just was not having it and I cannot blame him.

Shallow counter canter loop on the left lead.

This was a brief moment of success even if we didn't quite make it out to X.

Can you see all the rain drops in the photos?

If it looks like I can't see here, it is because I can't.  My new show bow (for my hair) was too big and was tipping my helmet forward over my eyes.  I couldn't fix it without taking my hair down and redoing the bun.  The judge nailed me for accuracy.  I didn't make any excuses when she was talking to me, but this was one of the reasons that I had so much trouble.  The other was, well the weather, and the fact that I have not ridden in a lettered dressage arena since my last show in October.  I guess that is catching up with me, although I know that I could have done much better.

Our final salute and glad it is over.

Harley expressing his opinion of the experience.

Looking cute while we take it unsweetened.

Leg yield left: I thought this felt pretty steady and nice.  We got a six, but the judge made it clear that she was not impressed.

Harley's infamous poop tour.

Oh well.  I will live.  Good thing showing isn't my favorite horse activity.

A picture from before we left and on our new patio stairs.  I am very glad that my husband took this photo in the morning.

Cute, just not functional, and I probably will not wear it again.  The bow detached from the net when I took my hair down.  Looks like my 15-year-old show bow will have to come out of retirement.

Riding Reflection: Dressage Test Prep

Although I do not love dressage for the competitions, I do see the benefits of entering the occasional dressage show and those benefits are reaped before we even load up to leave the farm.  Like many things in dressage, it is all in the preparation.

I wouldn't mind if Harley brought some of this on Sunday.

I have signed up to ride First Level Test 3 and Second Level Test 1.  We made it into the show ring for First Level Test 1 and Test 3 twice last year.  This is the first time either my horse or I will be entering at A for a Second Level test.  I am excited about this and I plan on taking both tests seriously, schooling show or otherwise.  I know that I have set us up for a challenge.  First Test 3 is not easy and we can certainly do much better than we did last year, but competition as it is, there are no guarantees and even though the test feels easier now, First Test 3 is not a picnic.  Despite this, I am still motivated to try Second Test 1.  Practicing for these tests is already showing me some things that I would not have learned if I had not signed up for the dressage show.

For example, I must not override my horse.  What I mean by this is, I must not go out there and let determination exude from me in the form of a heavy seat or aids.  I must not lean back or against his motion.  I absolutely must ride my horse and be there for him, rebalance him, ask him to meet the challenge, but I cannot ride him like he is a Grand Prix horse.  This totally squashes his movement.  I did this by accident a few days ago.  I went out to practice the Second Level test with minimal warm up, so that I could see what we could do without much prep, and I overrode.  Harley tried to comply, but the result was that impulsion suffered, his movement died down, and his right lead canter threatened to be four-beat.  He could not canter a 10 meter circle without breaking to trot and when I tried the counter canter loop he threw his head up and shook it from side to side in total irritation.

"Seriously, woman?"

Oops.

At least I learned that one early on.  I went back and let him go forward.  I let him stretch in the canter and we got our rhythm and impulsion back.  I found out that he was much more likely to canter a nice 10 meter circle if I sat light, let him have a little lower neck, and just nudged my outside heel at the beginning of each stride.  I have to trust him.  I cannot be the horse.  That is his job.

 Another thing that I learned is exactly what we need to do in the warm up to prepare.  When I prepare for a dressage test, I spend time practicing the warm up.  When you go before the judge, there are no do-overs.  You get one shot to show-off each movement, so you better be prepared before you enter the arena.

My Warm-Up Plan:
After as long a walk warm up as I can fit in the time schedule, begin with forward in trot.  Keep the reins long and give Harley an opportunity to stretch and go with as long a frame as he wants.  He does this nicely at home, although the show grounds may be too exciting to get the same relaxation, but I will still give him the opportunity.  Go large and round off all the corners.  Ride big circles and changes of direction all in rising trot, of course.  When he starts to flow, incorporate some walk transitions, keeping the reins pretty long and not asking for too much contact or collection.  The first goal is forward and relaxed.

Once forward and relaxed are there, we can start warming up flexibility and asking for more accuracy.  I will start riding smaller circles and smaller turns for changes in direction.  I can start asking for some leg yields and shoulder-in, still in rising trot, and walk transitions with a more positive connection.  I tried this a couple times this week and when he is ready to shift his balance back, he starts doing it on his own as the circles and turns get smaller.  Once he starts offering that shift in balance, I can sit a little taller, take up some slack in the reins and start riding him into the corners.  I must remember to ride several 10 meter circles, as this will help him in the canter, as well as a couple trot-halt-trot and a reinback to two.

Before the canter work, I should ride some sitting trot to give him a chance to accept my seat.  I must try not to control the first couple canter transitions too much and keep the figures large until he feels like he is bending properly in the canter.  This is like the trot warm-up.  Change rein a couple times through trot and then work a few canter-trot-canter transitions on the circle.  This seems to really help him maintain impulsion in the canter and establish obedience to my half-halts.  I should also incorporate some changes in gait within the trot and canter.  A walk break should be thrown in as needed, too.

Our Personal Gauntlet:
Before we enter the ring, I must be sure to ride a couple simple changes and a counter-canter loop in each direction.  The counter canter loop in the First Level test is shallow, so I may just need to ride that one once in each direction and save the more difficult loop for the Second Level test.  I was concerned about the simple changes, because Harley and I have never practiced them before.  We have trained canter to walk and walk to canter, but always on the same lead and the canter to walk was still a challenge and inconsistent for us.  So it was a happy surprise, when the simple change seemed to click for Harley this week.  This is perhaps the only time that I need to really sit on him in the canter.  The transition is not perfect, but some feel quite nice and he now seems to understand the purpose of the whole thing since we change leads after the walk.  I walked in to the test worried that we would blow these and now I see them as a welcomed chance to rebalance and breathe for a couple walk steps amidst what seems like a grueling canter tour.  The simple change is actually easier for us than the 10 meter canter circle, which I am considering riding a little large on purpose.  If we lose the rhythm or he becomes fatigued because the circle is physically challenging, we may sacrifice the rest of the test, so sacrificing a couple points for the circle is preferable.  And then there is the counter canter...

The counter canter is, by the way, the most valuable schooling experience that has come out of these test preparations.  Why haven't I been schooling counter canter?  I write time and time again that my horse likes to flying change at will and I have been struggling with this as both an obedience issue and a rider effectiveness issue and now I see what I should have been doing to help both these problems.

The counter canter.

Oh my goodness.
What an obedience challenge.
What a rider effectiveness challenge.
I now see the light.

My first attempts at the counter canter loop were utter failure.  Harley and I made every mistake.  Head-tossing.  Flying changes (nice ones, too).  Breaking to trot.  Physical tension and a lack of attention and submission.  I almost canned the whole thing right then.  I was not sure that there was any way that we could fix these problems before Sunday.  But the good news is that attempting this exercise forced me to address some issues that I have been too lackadaisical about.  As far as I can tell, our difficulties with the counter canter were almost entirely mental.

Well, maybe 90% mental and 10% physical.

Pretty, but not easy to tame.  Keeping my butt in the saddle would be a start!

Harley can counter canter.  Believe me, he can counter canter.  He demonstrates this sometimes when he flying changes onto the outside lead.  He can even do this on a circle and will continue along in counter canter.  He is a show off.  But that whole desire to show off is an obedience issue.  When I asked him to counter canter a loop at E or B, he did not believe that I wanted to canter on the "wrong lead".  I kept my aids the same, I did my best not to shift my weight, but he would still blow through my outside aids and switch leads.  If this did not work, then he broke to trot and changed leads.  Would you believe that I do not drill flying changes?  In fact I have not asked for a change since June.  I made the decision to get to his mind and convince him to let me do the thinking.  It was the only way that I could see us completing the exercise.

So I went back and repeated the exercise.  I did not try the loop, I just tried counter canter.  A diagonal, a half circle, whatever, it didn't really matter what shape.  I kept my aids absolutely on, without overriding (not too tight or too heavy!), and I kept looking into the inside bend.  If Harley did anything other than maintain gait, I told him "no", turned him around and went back to the beginning of the exercise.  By the fifth repetition, I felt discouragement creeping in, but I shoved it back.  I have faith in my horse.  If I can just convince him that I truly want him to canter on the wrong lead, I know that he can do it.

It might have been six or seven repetitions, but he finally complied.  I felt him shift his weight back, maintain the bend and the original canter.  As soon as he came around the turn, I stopped him and praised him with a long rein and the end of our ride.  I wanted him to know that what he had just done made me just as happy as any flying change.  I needed him to remember that.

And wouldn't you know it, two days later we rode again and he remembered.  This time on the first try.  He even stayed relaxed with those cute little snorts on the exhale at the end of each canter stride.  I stopped him again and praised him like crazy.  By the end of our ride, we managed the three-loop serpentine with no change of lead in both directions.  This exercise is very tough and very new for us.  I can feel that if I push too much he will break to trot.  The turn between the second and third loop is fragile and I believe physically difficult, so I have to ride carefully.  I cannot promise that we will pull it off at the show; there are just too many variables and maintaining relaxation and obedience will be more difficult away from home, but at least I know that we have it in us.  And when we return from our adventure, I believe that we will be well on our way to more obedience in the canter and improved rider effectiveness.  If I had not been forced to try it, I may not have taken the stand for obedience and the clarity of my aids.

Harley's mind is his greatest talent and my greatest training challenge.

All in all, let's hope for a safe trip and nice weather on Sunday.  The test preparations have already made me happy with my decision to enter this fast-approaching competition no matter the scores which should follow.

The 200th Post

I can hardly believe it, but here I am writing the 200th post of Memoirs of a Horse Girl.  Actually, I have written more than 200, because there are a couple Memoirs completed and waiting for the right moment to publish.  For the time being there is a lot going on, horse-related and otherwise, so that I find myself forgetting that I am actually off for the summer.  Of course there is the business with the therapeutic riding center up for sale, which is stressful and something that I had to come to terms with a year ago.  Helping to run a campaign to save the farm surfaces many feelings and emotions, good and bad, which are easier to just bury.  However, if it is possible to save the place, then I want to be a part of it and I believe that I do have some skills to offer, as do my comrades who have taken the hammer to the anvil.  Maybe the farm is beyond saving, but we, at least, want the opportunity to try and some communication about what is going on would be much appreciated.

Happiness in horse form

Of course, when it rains, it pours, and my teacher has contacted me to ride with her this week.  I absolutely cannot say "no", unless there is a hurricane, derecho, extended power outage, or something else crazy like that, which NEVER happens in New Jersey, or so I thought.  The week is quickly filling up, so Saturday may be the only day.  I truly appreciate her working around my schedule and she is very supportive and knowledgeable so seeing her will be wonderful.  On top of that, I have a school-related commitment (Go Science Fair!) this Wednesday, the only one of the entire summer, and the Township Committee meeting is the same day.  I have also been teaching therapeutic lessons on Wednesdays for the summer, but, thankfully, a friend is available to substitute, so that one is covered.  A patio is being installed in our backyard, which makes me feel like I should hang around the house, and my sister-in-law is due to have her first child, very, very soon.  This is understandably on everyone's minds.  It is difficult not to get a little jumpy if she does not answer her phone.  Did she go to the hospital?  But, so far, the baby is sticking to the schedule and we are waiting in the wings.  This will be the family's first grandchild, so there is a lot of hubbub.

AND, didn't I mention something about new horse show attire?

Well, I gave my barn some dates to consider for transportation and the one that worked out is this Sunday.  That's right.  Harley and I are entered in a dressage schooling show for THIS coming Sunday.  Oh dear.  I have been riding my horse when the weather permits, but we have not been practicing tests.  Test-riding is about a million times different than regular training or riding for pleasure, even if my pleasure happens to be dressage.  Last year we had two successful outings at schooling shows at First Level (I do not show beyond schooling shows.  Too much money and too much stress.  I want my horse and I to have fun!), so that seems like the logical level to enter this year, but...

...what are my goals here for the schooling show?

Am I showing to prepare my horse for a big show career?

No.

Am I showing to get better at the First Level tests so we can be competitive at bigger competitions?

No.

Am I showing because I expect to go in many more shows this year and I want to map my progress?

No.

So why am I showing, if not for the experience and some fun?

That's it.  I want to take my horse somewhere, and this place is very, very nice.  Dress up.  Have a nice ride or two.  Maybe show off a couple things that we are good at.  Maybe just showcase where we are and get the opinion of a judge, whose opinion, of course, will be of our snapshot performance, having known nothing about where we come from or how long it has taken to get there.  Maybe try something that we have never done before...

...like Second Level.

Am I crazy?

I signed up to ride First Level Test 3 and Second Level Test 1.  I had planned to carefully school the things from the second level test that are the most difficult for us, polish the things we are good at and hope for the best, knowing that this is most definitely a leap of faith and an experiment.  I want an experience that I have never had before.  I have shown three horses to First Level, but I have never entered the ring for a Second Level test.  Harley is an unlikely candidate to make this happen compared to the horses I have ridden in the past, but he has some things that they did not have and, I believe, some talents to offer.  I feel a sense of urgency with everything going on around me and riding Second Level is amidst all of it.  I no longer have the free week to relax and prepare like I was hoping.  Anything could happen this week, from a heat wave to a farm sale or revival to a new baby in the family.  What if it comes on Sunday?

How can I concentrate on simple changes and counter canter at a time like this?!

I guess Harley and I are just going to have to go out there and have a good time.  Even if we bomb the Second Level test, at least we have pioneered a new experience for ourselves and it won't change the things that are important...

...like the fact that I love my horse and every chance I get to ride him.

Thanks for reading and wish us luck!
This week, we are going to need it.

The sunset as viewed from my back door.

My view one year ago this week.  The same sun setting off the coast of Hawaii as seen from our hotel in Kona.  My husband and I are "LOST" fans and we just can't seem to shake the notion that "We have to go back to the island!"

Memoirs: A Horse Girl Gets Dressed Up

I am somewhat embarrassed to say that the last time that I bought show clothes was when I was in high school, which was almost fifteen years ago.  Last year, I was forced to finally buy new high boots to replace my boots from high school, because the straps for the boot pulls snapped.  They didn't snap just from use and age.  They snapped because I was trying desperately to pull my calves into the space occupied by the boots.  By the laws of physics, no two things can occupy the same space, although my budgies constantly try to occupy the same spot on a perch, so something had to give.  The boots lost.

October 2011, First Level with Mr. Harley: I was deliriously happy just to have comfortable boots to wear at this show.  It could only have helped my riding, as it is difficult to concentrate and relax when your feet hurt.

When I took Harley to a local dressage schooling show in October, I vowed that if I should enter another horse show in the future, I needed to purchase some new clothes.  My jacket and my new boots were fine, but the rest of my clothes were outdated (dare I say discolored?) at best and downright uncomfortable at worst.

Waiting for a Training Level class in 2008.  Harley and I had been a team for just over a year, but those clothes and boots had been with me for over a decade.  Unfortunately, the relationship between me and my clothing had grown thin (pun intended).

Showing Blue in 1999, First Level.  Different horse but the same clothing!  Notice how my foot is too far in the stirrup?  Those boots were always a little too big in the foot.  I think this compromised my feel in the stirrups.  I had about an inch of empty space at the toes.

And The Mare a couple years later, also at First Level and in the same clothes again.  This was before I received the white gloves from my trainer.  Those were a honor to be gifted.

On Harry in 2003 in the only Introductory test that I have ever ridden.  Recognize the clothes?  At least dressage clothes are meant to blend in so the emphasis is on the horse and rider.  Black and white never really go out of style.

Harley's first horse show ever in October 2007 and I am in the same clothes, yet again.  We went out for Training Level, because I felt that Intro was not going to keep his attention and I did not want to compete against some friends who were new to dressage shows.

I just like how cute Harley looks here.  He seems to be asking, "Am I doing this right?"

My husband and I with a good shot of my duds.  How those pants have stayed white, I have no idea!

The white, full-seat breeches that I own were a gift from my original trainer.  They were an expensive pair with real leather for the seat and inner legs.  Unfortunately, this meant that they were not breathable and the fabric was really too thick for summer horse shows.  They looked really nice and they were too good quality to waste in the closet, so I continued to wear them at the occasional horse show that I attended.  To the manufacturer's credit, they still look new.  I will keep them forever and may wear them again, but for now they have been replaced by "cheap yet tasteful and, most importantly, summer appropriate" clothing!

I chose a white show pad (all-purpose style so that it doesn't dwarf Harley or my saddle), cotton full-seats, a microfiber, breathable shirt (hallelujah!), a pre-tied stock tie with pretty, delicate lace, and a new show bow to attempt to contain my mane.  Harley isn't the only one with some wild hair!

I still need to try everything on to see if they fit, but so far I am happy with the products, which I received having only viewed them in the online catalog.  SmartPak is so fast with delivery and has lots of reasonably-priced merchandise.  I also get a break on some items, because I purchase SmartPak supplements for Harley.  Needless to say, I am a SmartPak fan.

My original (and discolored) show bow and stock pin.  Look how stretched out the hair net is!  I absolutely cannot tuck my hair under my helmet.  I would need a larger-sized helmet for that and probably some headache medicine.

In addition to my black coat (a gift from Mom) and my yearling boots (although they don't look new anymore), I will continue to use my original stock pin, which my Mom bought for me when I was a little kid taking lessons, and the white, leather gloves, which my original trainer also gave to me for shows, and my velveteen helmet, although I keep the velveteen concealed with a smooth, black cover.  I have to remain a little old-school.  People already think that I look younger than I am, so I do not want to appear to be a total noob because all my clothes and gear are new.  Hopefully, my riding will lend some clue, but you never know!

This was not an expensive pin, but I think it is totally classic in its simplicity.  My Mom bought it for me at Ruthie's Tack Shop in Whitehouse Station, NJ, which used to be the closest tack shop in the days before online shopping.  I could spend hours there.  I remember my Mom would promise to take me after a visit to the dentist, which I really despised.  As a kid, I bought my first saddle from Ruthie's, my velveteen helmet, my grooming kit, and my first paddock boots all with savings from my allowance, birthdays, and holidays.

It seems an old expression is in order.

"All dressed up with no where to go."

I may be able to remedy that situation.  I am looking to visit a new site for a dressage schooling show.  There are many things that must fall into place before that can happen, such as transportation arrangements, and, of course, the weather has to cooperate, which is no small thing these days.  We will see!

A Question of Footing

Recently, a friend asked me if I am going to do the local dressage series of schooling shows this year.  I hesitated in answering, and then responded with "not in May".  The truth is that I am thinking about looking for a new place to show.  I am not determined to show, so there is no hurry.  I am having fun working with Harley without the thoughts of a show date looming over my head.  I know that many riders love showing and like to have a tangible goal to work towards, but that just isn't me.  In fact, every time that I do show, I feel like I am literally forcing myself to go.  Why do I do that?  I believe that it is good experience for my horse to travel once in a while and I like to put myself out there to be evaluated.  Well, maybe "like" is too strong a word, but it is good for me.  The downside of infrequent showing is that we never really get comfortable with it, so it is difficult to give our best ride, but that hasn't seemed to hold us back too severely.

Last year we when to two of the three horse shows in the dressage series, rode the First Level tests 1 and 3, scored 60/61% in all four tests, and received a Reserve Champion First Level year-end award for our little local series.  I was given a pretty, fancy ribbon, a monogrammed collapsible red chair for the trailer, and a 2011 show series T-shirt.  Not bad considering that we did not show at all in 2010 and previously went out for Training Level only.  If I took regular dressage lessons, and by regular I mean more than six times a year, I am sure that we could have beefed up our scores, but I was happy to have received the respectable 60% on my own, so to speak, and with my beloved, Harley. 

Why do I want to find a different place to show?  The venue is comfortable and friendly.  The staff is competent and the shows are well run.  The problem is the footing.  When I ride, my test times are usually at the end of the day.  Last year, we were the last ride at both shows.  This means that 50 to 60 people had been in the show ring before us.  The ring was probably watered and groomed before the first ride, but by the time it came for us to enter at A, the footing was very uneven.  The corners were especially deep, the worst parts being at the C end in front of the judge.

Now I know that a craftsman should not blame his tools, but...

...I was really frustrated by the footing.  Dressage depends upon rhythm, straightness, and impulsion.  From these elements the contact and connection between horse and rider is developed with relaxation at the helm.  I found it very difficult to maintain these things in the deep corners of the ring.  And those corners come up very often!  I do not ride with spurs and Harley is very peppy and willing, but when we entered at A, his legs seemed to be stuck in molasses.  This presented itself as "resistance" and also caused me to work too hard with my legs to keep him going, which by the way, does not happen at home!  This compromised my position and definitely impacted the quality of our ride.  I watched the tests on video later, which confirmed what I was feeling in the ring.  I overheard at least one competitor and her training discussing the footing.  They were also not happy.

A couple segments of the 2011 Bloopers Video depict our dilemma.

At home, Harley and I are not used to anything fancy.  We ride in sand with lots of round pebbles.  The rings are dragged about once a week, which is good and bad.  The sand gets leveled and more even in depth, but more rocks get dragged up.  We have a lot of rocks here and the riding rings are really just glorified paddocks.  They have never been graded or set with footing, unless you count dumping more sand.  If they were graded or leveled it was probably ten years ago.  Maybe more.  The footing at the show location is a sand mix of some sort.  I was told that a large quantity of arena footing was donated from a traveling rodeo after they left the area.  This is the footing that I was frustrated about.  The warm up is grass, which is fine.  Harley warmed up great and then lost steam as soon as we entered the show ring.  He even power trotted his lap around the letters before entering to be judged.  I felt really good about that trot, only to find that we lost it as soon as it counted!

I could just go again and deal with it, but I feel like I already did that when I went back for the October show.  Harley was very fit after a summer full of riding.  We had no issues maintaining gait at home and I felt that our connection was very good and reliable.  Certain parts of the test were a challenge for us (the counter canter loops in test 3), but maintaining energy should not have been one of them!

So what do you think?
How much does arena footing matter to you?

Memoirs: A Horse Girl Learns Her Lesson

My love affair with dressage has not always been an easy one.  This will come as no surprise to most who have dabbled in the sport.  I guess what I mean to say is that dressage has not always been so easy to love as it is with Harley and my own riding space.  We have our own agenda and most of the time I direct our focus and objectives.  I am not easy on myself.  I analyze my own riding videos (sometimes in slow motion) and target areas where I can improve myself or my horse.  I try to always look to fix my position and technique first, addressing my horse's mistakes second.  Usually fixing myself solves both sides of the equation and serves to keep me humble.  I could not ask for a better partner than Harley.  What he may lack in consistency or steadiness, he makes up for in intelligence and work ethic.  His gaits will not turn heads or high scores, but his spirit and charisma consistently do.  And he is athletic!

I have already written a memoir about how I fell in love with dressage, but I have not written anything about how that love was tested.  One particular story always stands out in my mind, although there are many.  The story also has a lot to do with the role of the trainer.  A good trainer can build up confidence, but can sending it crashing down just as easily.  I often look back on this story with feelings of anger.  I did not deserve to be treated so harshly.  I always gave 100% as a dressage student.  It wasn't fair.  Or was I unable to see past my own perspective?  Things did work out and have worked out for me very well.  I still love dressage.  I am a confident rider and horseperson.  I am a very different rider and horseperson now, than I was then, but I am not sure that I can really wish any event erased from history.  I am a product of all my experiences.

Maybe, I should just leave it at that.

_____________________________________________

I was riding dear Blue in the show and I was in high school.  This was not our first show together, but we were still in our maiden year.  He was the first horse that I had shown besides Pony and we were already at First Level.  I did not really understand the significance of the level designations, because "first" sounded like beginners and was followed by things like "Second through Fourth Level", "Prix St. George", and the rest of the FEI parade of ridiculously difficult tests.  I wanted to ride those some day, so First Level just seemed like a stepping stone.  For some reason, my trainer (my original dressage instructor with the gorgeous mare) wanted me to enter the Training Level test before my First Level test.  I thought this sounded kind of silly, because if First Level was beginner stuff, Training Level was "baby stuff".  My impressions were not totally ill-founded.  My trainer did not encourage me to practice the Training Level Test 4 before entering the show ring.  She said that I didn't need to practice, because it was my "throw-away" test.  So we only ever worked on the First Level test in my lessons on Blue, a tall Quarter Horse/Thoroughbred cross who resembled more the latter with his 16.1 hand, gray frame and reliable yet somewhat nervous demeanor.  I also had the invaluable opportunities of watching my trainer practice things like tempi changes, half-pass zigzags, and half-steps on her big mare, so rein-back and cantering 15 meter circles did not seem even remotely impressive.  Looking back, I was exceptionally lucky to have, quite literally, stumbled onto that farm.  I would not even have the resources now to duplicate the experiences which I gleaned in high school and college.

When test day rolled around, I went through the usual preparations.  I did not show very often (a couples times a summer), but I knew how to get myself and my horse ready.  I memorized Training Level Test 4 and First Level Test 1.  We were on time for our Training Level test and I marched into the show ring with a smile on my face, because I was coached that "it helps" and I really wanted to impress.  The reader read the call for me to halt at X.  I performed my salute and the rest...

...is a blank.

I have absolutely no memory of the test.  Somehow I completed every movement without going off course, but my brain was totally shut off.  And shut down.  I choked in every sense of the word.  My autopilot was good enough to keep the test going and cue poor, abandoned Blue to walk, trot, and canter in the appropriate places, but the test was a total bust.  Another rider from our farm told me that he thought at some point that I might just stop and excuse myself from the remainder of the test.  I respected his opinion and he was not a negative person, so I am sure that he was being honest.  It must have been bad.  And Blue was not a confident show horse, so he was, no doubt, a rigid, inverted mess.  Maybe even scared.

I left the arena in a daze.  I cannot remember if the judge spoke to me or just smiled and waved good-bye.  My trainer was waiting for me at the gate.  Since I was a teenager and basically naive, I thought to try and lighten the impact of the inevitable poor score and readied a comment to the effect of "Oh well, you win some, you lose some", but I do not think that the words left my mouth.  My trainer was glaring at me.  I halted Blue next to her and she leaned closer to speak to me.  I leaned toward  her out of courtesy, even though my instincts were telling me to run.  Her ice-blue eyes locked on mine and she whispered with measured words,

"You. did. not. ride. even. one. step."

Then she turned and walked away. 

Stunned and embarrassed, I tried to smile and pat my horse as I walked away from the group of riders, trainers, and bystanders waiting at the gate.  I pleaded with myself not to cry.  I bit my lip.  I fumbled with my helmet.  I coughed and cleared my throat, which was tightening by the second.  I tried not to think the words "hate", "unfair", and "mean".  I focused on Blue and told him he was a "Good Boy".  He didn't answer me back.

Once at the trailer, I was desperate to get away.  I wanted to find a place to hide and cry, literally.  This was before I learned about tying horses to trailers, so I could not leave Blue.  I needed someone to hold him, so I could retreat and refortify myself before the next test.  The important one.  I was not about to ask my trainer to hold him, so I asked her husband.  He coolly remarked that he was too busy at the moment.  They were working together.  I was being taught a lesson, but I felt set up.  I managed to bite back my tears and focused on the next test, but first I would have to get through the warm up...

My trainer accompanied me to the warm up arena.  She was all business.  My problem was that I was not sitting up and sticking my butt in the saddle.  She coached me from the center of the ring, with a fence line of spectators.  Other riders were there with their trainers, but mine was the only one who was yelling.  She threatened to pull me from the dressage test and make me ride a jumper round if I didn't sit up tall.

I felt resentment creeping in.  Why is she doing this to me?

Then, I was angry.  I'm going to show her.

I gritted my teeth and finished the warm up.  Blue did his best, despite the ball of tension on his back, and, thankfully, he was more than willing to listen after watching his rider get schooled.  Blue was not a stupid horse.  He knew the trainer too, and he was not about to be a part of the problem. 

By my second ride time, I was worlds more nervous than I had been for the Training Level test even though I was much more practiced and prepared.  As I entered at the gate and walked my horse around the show ring, I started to unravel in my head.

"I do not ride like a dressage rider at all."
"I cannot sit up like I am supposed to."
"Maybe I am just not good enough."
"I am better at jumping and I am not even that good at that, so where does this leave me?"
"Blue feels tight and unhappy."
"I am unhappy."
"Why am I even doing this?"

My feelings must not have been well hidden as I wallowed in self-pity.  I did not see the previous competitor passing me as she walked her horse to leave the arena, but I looked up as I heard a very sincere, "Have a good ride".  An elegant rider with a short, professional haircut, gazed down at me from her dark mount.  Her smile had that knowing look, which could not be mistaken.  Did she see my last test?  Was she present in the warm up?  Did she hear me get yelled at?  Or maybe she just read my mind.  I think any of those are likely.  Her presence at that moment made all the difference.

I went out there and I rode my First Level test.  Blue and I were a respectable team.  We didn't make any major mistakes, we rode accurate figures, and I kept my head on for the entire test.  I was proud of our effort and my trainer gave us an approving nod.  The need to cry had subsided until I saw my score.  We broke sixty percent for the first time!  This time my eyes filled with tears of joy.  The throw-away test was thrown away, but the lesson not soon forgotten.

Our first show together in 1999:  Blue was 13 and somewhere in the world, Harley was a yearling.  Looking back, Blue was one of the best horses in my life.  He was honest, kind, and willing.  It was a privilege to learn from his back.