On being here and now

Presence. That’s what she told me.

All week I’ve been searching for these famous last words Cynthia offered at the very end of our latest lesson. In fact, it started with a question: “So what’s your take-away life lesson this week?” As I recall, my answer was something very, very clever. Something along the lines of “Duh?”…

Being her calm self, she put on her roguish smile and simply said “Be present”. She said I needed to always be there for what was going on in me, around me and last but not least, under me, in order to always be prepared to react, or better yet… avoid mishaps altogether. At the time, this sounded like such evidence that I quickly brushed it under the carpet without giving it a second thought. In my head, it sounded like: “Note to self: be more aware of the horse’s movements…Ok, next?

Clearly, at the time, I hardly considered her well-intentioned comment as a “life lesson”. But it so happens that my unconscious mind keeps track of all these little “evidences” that I discard and processes them in the background, often to serve them to me again when I am more receptive, humble and…present.

So a week has gone by, I’m walking the streets on my way to work and this loyal and reliable unconscious mind of mine popped Cynthia’s words right there, in the middle of the “today’s featured concerns” trailer playing in my head. The thing is, there have been cart loads of changes in my life in the past few months and juggling with everything seems to have left my brain stuck in high gear. And this has been very, very uncomfortable…to say the least. It’s been taking a toll on my sleep, my patience with the kids and my overall well-being. The “present” has recently been the last thing on my now ever-racing mind.

Being in a drastic life transition, I seem to always be in a “post-mortem” (Should I have done this or that otherwise? Was this or that a mistake?) or “intense planning” mode (How am I going to tackle this? Am I going to be able to pull that off?). And these otherwise very interesting exercises involve a lot of past issues, future challenges, but hardly ever the infamous “here and now”. So instead of being present therefore focused, confident and calm, I was all over the place and ridden with fear, guilt and anxiety. And that, I now realize, has been the precise source of my recent disquiet. What more can I say?

So there on the sidewalk, I had a tremendous “Ah! Ah! moment”. A life lesson IT WAS after all. One that I will certainly apply to riding, as best I can, but also one that I absolutely need to bring along with me outside of the arena, where “nature” is actually a lot wilder than in our generally peaceful barns.

Thank you so very much C.

Downfalls

I was looking for a cure to get rid of my fear of falling off horses. Well, winter sent it to me along with that spectacular ice storm that fell on our heads a couple of days ago...

Upon opening the curtains that morning, I saw everything from cars to fir trees to mailmen transformed into giant shiny MrFreezes. Oh! It WAS beautiful indeed. But if you had to set foot outside, it redefined walking into an extreme sport.

I had to go to work even if I must admit I thought about calling in "pale". It took me 15 minutes of banging, scraping & pulling to finally open my car's door (just to move it, I ended-up taking the bus). There was approximately 1 1/2 inch of ice e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e... Oh, well, you want to live in the Great White North, you deal with it... right?

Anyway, the day went by, no electricity cut, which was nothing short of a miracle in these conditions. But I have to come back from work, eventually. When I got to my bus stop, I stepped out, waited a minute for the light to turn green, and resumed walking confidently to cross the boulevard that leads to my home. And there, right in the middle of the intersection, unconspicuous under a thick layer of brownish slush, lurked an invisible patch of ice. I stepped on it.

Next thing you know, I am flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me, my foot, back and neck aching like crazy, and I'm struggling to get back on my feet before the mandatory 30 seconds to cross are gone and cars start running me over. And however difficult that situation may have been, surprisingly, my first thought was : "This was so much worse than falling in the dirt from a trotting horse!" The icy street was rock hard and compared to that, the dirt of the arena - even with it's crunchy aftertaste - almost (and almost would be the operative word here) feels like a bed of feathers.

Alleluhia! I think I'm cured!!!

Luckily, I was not badly hurt. A little sprain here, a little bruise there, nothing to write home about. But in all honesty, what really, really hurt me, is the fact that there were two people walking in front of me. And these two caring and thoughtful individuals heard me fall, heard my cry of pain, and only slightly turned their heads to see me struggle before they continued crossing without even slowing their pace. What a shame!

At least horses come and see if we're hurt when we take a tumble!!!

A final thought for two of my fellow bloggers who have taken a bat hit from mother nature: Daun from The Eventing Percheron who in survival mode after the ice storm and Stacey from The Jumping Percheron who is dealing with the aftermaths of heavy rain and destructive mudslides. Hang in there ladies!

Jumping mental barriers on the flat

Well, well... I don't know if it was the pain killers buzz or what, but today was a great class. Not only did I succeed SOME haunches in (Cynthia told me to forget about the bending, so I didn't have to try to conceal anything...Phooey!) and I believe Meeka and I jumped over an important mental barrier. 

Class today was more of the same: putting her on the bit, serpentines, shoulder in, haunches in and then canter. Since I have improved **considerably** on the canter (bear with my gloating please, it's a new skill I'm trying to learn), mostly because I have gained so much confidence lately, I am now allowed to canter all around the arena instead of staying on the circle. So there was finally new territory for me to explore today, even if I thought all would be under control since I was now a self-proclaimed "Master of the Circle". But hey, If horses had sleeves, they'd constantly pull new stunts out of them, woudn't they? They certainly keep you on your toes (as long as the heels are down...who's complaining really?)

I guess I had not been assertive enough during the class, Meeka must have felt she could basically do whatever she wanted because while cantering on the long side of the arena, she decided she'd cut through and double instead of obeying my desperate attemps to keep her on the track. First time around, I was really surprised. It felt like if I had a blowout on my car...

Mistake #1: I cooly walked her back to the track. She got what she wanted: not to canter.

Meeka: 1 - Me: 0. 

Then we went at it again. On the same wall, at the very same spot, she cut again! Now proactively coached through this by Cynthia, I had to have a little fight with Meeka (NO, you're not going to walk, crop,  NO you're not going that way, crop crop, and YES, you're going back on the track NOW, crop, to resume canter). To me it totally felt like rodeo. It was nothing of the sort, of course, she remained totally calm through all of this, but it was my very fist real struggle for power in a saddle, so yikes!. Sounds good? Well, I now know it was too little too late. 

Mistake #2: I should have known this was going to happen and prevent it with firmer aids in the first place.

Meeka: 2 - Me: 0. 

At that point in time, I told Cynthia I had been scared a little (how about that for an understatement?) so she called me to come close, explained how I should really act BEFORE Meeka even thinks about pulling another one of these unexpected self-steering initiatives. And she chatted, and explained, and explained again, so much so that Meeka and I figured class was over and we could both get out of this and go back to the barn for some tasty hay and/or the car for some well deserved heat! (Darn it was cold in that barn today!!!)

But were we wrong!!! Coach had tricked us into relaxing, forgetting about the fight we were in, thinking this was all over but NOT! She asked for us to get out of our chit chat induced semi-comatose state (I believe she referred to it as "parking mode") and go for another turn of canter: same hand, same wall, same unfinished battle, same terrified rider aboard. You should have heard the sirens going on in my head. I was scared to death because I new if I did not succeed, Meeka would, again, make a sharp turn, accelerate, and I would get that dreaded "total loss of control" feeling.

So back on track we were and I finally did succeed. It felt like I was trying to get her to hit the wall but it seemed that for today, it was just enough to keep her straight. Yeah! I'm very proud of what I did (overcoming the fear mostly). 

Meeka:2 - Me: Happy.

My achilles tendon is letting me down...

I have a lesson today and my foot hurts like hell. I haven't told you this but about a year and a half ago I had a stupid, stupid accident while washing a window that left a 2" scar on the skin of my Achilles tendon. The window I was washing was out of it's track, it was blown by the wind and fell on my head. It then exploded in a thousand pieces, one of them still large enough to slide along my back and land on my Achilles tendon, slicing the skin open (not the tendon itself though, lucky me). 

Since then, I've struggled with a limp in the morning and some on and off pain. And this pain doesn't seem to be going anywhere, in fact, it's seems to be getting worse. It now extends down to my heel and it really hurts as soon as I put my foot down. And today, it's snowing like crazy in permafrost land, and I don't know if it's even related, but the pain is worse than ever. So bad that I'm even considering not going to my lesson because stretching this thing surely will not make it better. 

Darn... What to do???

Then again, maybe it WAS me...

Meeka was as cool as a cucumber. It wasn't lunchtime, it wasn't too cold, it wasn't farrier fest, there was absolutely no reason for her not to be on her best behaviour. And so she was, and I was inconspicuously celebrating the great lesson I was gonna have, thinking that it would be a breeze and that I could regain some of my lost confidence. Unfortunately I was in, yet again, for a lesson in humility.

She was on the leg, attentive. Trot trot trot... Shoulder in started as a bit difficult but Cynthia quickly reminded me I only needed to keep her bended after the short sides corners and then it became almost too easy. Trot trot trot... So we went back to haunches in. I was brimming with confidence with Meeka in such a great relaxed mood so I went for it full throttle. 

**Sigh**

I must admit, this time around, it was definitely me. There seems to be someting that doesn't compute in my brain when it comes to outside reins. Cynthia kept telling me I was using too much inside rein (to bend her) compared to the outside one, and that it should actually be the contrary. At that moment I think I had a brain cramp because I heard some sort of a crackle and a definite pop inside my riding cap. I could't understand a word of what Cynthia was trying to explain, I was too busy thinking that this didn't make any sense to me. I think she got a hint when she saw the dazed look in my eyes, because she suggested we cantered a little (for those of you who knew me back then, you should see me now!!!) and Meeka and I immediatly remembered this was supposed to be fun... Right Dea?

So I decided to leave the dust to settle for a couple of days and I think I get it now. If any of you think I am mistaken, please tell me what you think. Here's my take on my complete insuccess with haunches in, Meeka's mood not being an impediment like last week:

In fact, I think that since my inside leg may not have been strong enough at the girth, there was no tension in my outside rein. So I pulled a little more with the inside rain in order to get some semblance of a bend. But then this inside hand, that recieved no counter resistance from the right, got to be very harsh. At that point, Meeka was definitely over-bended and got p-r-e-t-t-y exasperated from the fact she was trying to give me what I wanted, and I kept pulling at her mouth because I had no idea of what was happening whatsoever. 

Now if I understand better: more inside leg, use newly created tension in outside rein to hold shoulders in place (so we don't hit the wall), slight bend of the nose towards the inside with the inside rein (oh! so soflty) and slight push with outside leg towards haunches to get the now infamous "banana shape" that's expected of me and Meeka. Is that it???

Anyway, I gave in to popular reccomendations and finally ordered the Kyra Kyrklund dressage manual. Holidays reading par excellence. So between her and Cynthia, if I STILL don't get it, I certainly AM the one with the biggest challenge...

Well, it wasn't me after all...

When I got to the barn for monday's lesson, Meeka had just been served her hay and was going at it like there was no tomorrow. Your typical day in the life of a mare... So out of compassion (from one glutton to another) I decided to tack her in her box so she could continue grazing while I groomed and saddled her. Just trying to be nice, you know?

Then when I got to putting on her bit, she fiddled, tried to escape, tried to bite, abruptly turned around in her box to avoid my (now hesitating) hands, and there I was, trying to follow her shoulder in that box that now felt like as spatious as an airplane lavatory. So much for trying to be nice! But I must admit to having a farmer grandfather who shared so many horror stories about him and some cattle confined in a tight place that I am now nervous when I spend more than two milliseconds in a box already occupied by a horse, as friendly as it may be. But with the patient help from coach Cynthia, I finally got her ready and under control. 

Once in the arena, I laboured a little to get into the saddle. I was hesitant as I felt her a bit skittish and she's so tall and everything. But with a big lock of mane in one hand and the remainder of my self-confidence in the other, I finally hopped in the saddle, hoping this was not a preview of the class that was lying ahead. But it was... 

For the first time I really felt Meeka trying to evade. Her style: no rearing, no bucking, just plain stubbornness and constantly trying to run away from my leg. So she felt like a revved up Ferrari (not that I know what that feels like though...) ready to race for her dear life. Lucky for me I now feel much more comfortable with canter. Finally... ;-)

On the planning for today's lesson was something brand new: haunches in. Yikes! Well, the intention was there for my part, but maybe not the talent. I tried and tried again and ended up a bit harsh with my hands trying to compensate for what seemed to be totally ineffective legs. And after a while, I think I mentally gave up. Had I had a megaphone attached to my brain, you would have heard the likes of: " I'm such a lousy rider" or " This is way too difficult for me" or, my personal favorite, " Who am I kidding here? I'm obviously no athlete and this is way too technical for me. I should really have given up this horse-riding thing a long time ago. Well, it's been nice while it lasted...". I was really frustrated with myself and quite a bit discouraged with this whole dressage endeavour...

But at the end of the class, Cynthia asked me if I minded letting her ride Meeka for a few minutes. I felt she wanted to validate something. And much to my surprise, this wonderful coach and tremendous rider could barely get Meeka's attention and obedience and she was not gratified with haunches in either. Cynthia even felt the need to apologize for the fact that I had to ride Meeka in such an uncooperative state of mind for the whole lesson (at which time I told her this was part of the game and of my learning curve, no apologies required whatsoever).

So guess what: I have learned much more than just the aids for haunches-in that day... The personal personal aspect of the lesson was twofold: First of all, I should never let one little difficulty - that can be caused by so many things other than by a possible lack of talent - affect my self confidence this way. Horse and rider are a team and if one of the two is not in the mood for training, performance is affected for the both of them and it's NORMAL. And this one I need to apply to life in general. Duly noted.

Secondly, I should relinquish that constant need to be outstanding. There were no judges that day, there was no reason for me to be so harsh on myself aside from my lifelong quest for "perfection on first attempt". Next time around, I want to stay in the present moment and try to enjoy the ride without being so demanding of myself. I need to give me the right to be an average rider that truly enjoys her sport instead of trying to be the best rider constantly criticizing myself for any flaw in my technique or in my achievements. 

This is supposed to be fun, isn't it? Unless somebody tells me I'm to participate to the next Olympic Games or something, it needs to remain about fun. Until then, I'll check the criticism in the car before I enter the barn and enjoy renewing with the pleasure of bathing in the musky and welcoming smell of my equine friends and be grateful for the joy they have brought me, and keep bringing me, one ride after another.

Six (now very public) things about me

First of all, thanks again to those of you who took the time to let me know where you came from and why you were reading my blog. It's nice to know your story, it gives me a sense of purpose and I found it very motivating. Please keep on commenting and telling me what you like about this blog so I can write more of the stuff you enjoy. 

Ok now: Solitairemare has invited me to parttake in the "Six things about me" game and I've accepted the challenge. The rules are as follows:

Link to the person who tagged you.
Post the rules on your blog.
Write six random things about yourself.
Tag six people at the end of your post.
Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Let the tagger know your entry is up. 

So here's my take on six things that make me who I am, with some of them that make me prouder than others... Allright then, here I go:

1. I am totally infatuated with my car. It's now old and battered but it is so many things to me: 
   
   
   • A sportsgear backstore (with the trunk full of my son's football stuff plus foldable chairs - because I fear cold steel bleachers when fall comes - , horse grooming equipment, a backpack full of crops and gloves and even a slkeeping bag that never got out of the car after a trip to Mt Washington. Never any place for groceries...)
     
     
   • An extension to my handbag (backseat is cluttered with clothing, papers, shoes, so much so that my eldest decided he was old enough to ride in the front...)
     
     
   • A boombox. Not that I have an expensive car or anything, but living in an appartment is difficult for somebody as passionate about music as I am. So if you ride with me and don't like loud music, be sure to bring earplugs!
     
     
   • And last but not least: my freedom
     
     
2. On sunday mornings, I like to make crepes for my sons. These french "crêpes" are actually very thin pancakes that you can flip, fold in two, in four, or make into a cigar shaped roll or hand roll. I usually make about 30 (takes quite a long time) but they are thin as a sheet of paper. And then we garnish them with a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g we can think about, it's like a game of who's going to be the most creative. Our favorite: plain with butter and a sprinkle of brown sugar, rolled into a cigar. Yummy!!!
   
   
3. I speak a total four languages. I am a FRENCH canadian who learned ENGLISH in school (and by watching "Three's company" AFTER school). And since I traveled regularly to the caribbeans (it was the cheapest vacation option for me, can you believe it?) I decided I needed to learn SPANISH which I did in about a year by reading books, watching movies and going through one self-teaching exercicse book after another. Then when the challenge ofspanish wore out, I undertook ITALIAN, which was fairly easy to learn since I already had two other latin languages under control. So now, I'm just the perfect travel companion!
   
   
4. I just turned 40 this summer and think it's FABULOUS. You know so much more about yourself, about what you want and what you absolutely will not tolerate anymore, I love that sense of empowerement and clarity. I really feel like it's a new beginning for me and that the best IS yet to come.
   
   
5. I have had numerous discussions with my sons about eventually going to live in another country for a couple of years. I believe that would be tremendous education for them as it would infuse them with another totally different culture and broaden their horizons. This planet is now a small village, it cannot be all about a global economy, it has to be about being a more open human being.
   
   
6. Since I do not own a horse, I sometimes feel like a spoiled brat when I get to the barn: I just go there, groom Meeka, ride her for an hour with someone telling me exactly what to do and when to do it, then I groom her again, feed her a carrot or two and go back to my little life like there was nothing more about it than that. I know that caring for a horse is so much responsibility, so much worry, so  much investment in terms of time and money that I sometimes feel guilty to just come in and ride and then leave. I don't get to learn anything that way about what caring for a horse on a daily basis feels like. That's why I enjoy reading everyone's blogs, it's my only source of knowledge beyond what I get to do in a weekly class. Thank you everyone for sharing your experiences.

OK now, I know I'm supposed to tag someone here, but I really am in a hurry. Tags will have to come later, I want to choose carefully.

How small can this planet be?

Hey everyone!

I don't know if this complies with the current netiquette, but I just have to ask... I am soooooo curious!

As many of you, blogging is now part of my life and so part of my daily e-routine. You know the drill: power on, personal email, business email, facebook, local newspaper, agenda, blog, power off & go to work, kinda thing. But I must admit that recently, the part of it I was looking forward to the most was consulting the traffic feed on my blog. It's just amazing! People from Italy, Greece, U.S.A., Sweden, Lebanon, Israel, and of course fellow canadians visit my blog regularly. I am very grateful for your interest and I must admit that I am dying to ask: who are you guys???

So on your next visit, please do leave a comment and tell me a little about you and why you love riding so much. Also please tell me about your blog so that I too can pay you a visit once in a while. Let's make this a community, let's get to know one another and discuss, we already know we have lots in common!

Ok. That was it. I'm stopping here 'cause I'm just going to have to write "I have a dream..." here, but this bit has already been done.  ;-)

Cheers, you horse lovers from all over the place!

A horse of a different colour

Meeka was grazing outside on the hill when I got to the stable this morning. That was a hint: I'm not going to ride her today... At first, that's always a disappointment, because even if she is not mine, I grew very fond of her over the past few months. But every time I rode another of the school horses, I learned something different.  Some I enjoy riding more than others, but overall, they all are great, even tempered horses that will cooperate with me even if my aids are sometimes far from clear. 

So I got to ride Faïtas. He's a sweet chestnut with the softest coat ever.  This week's lesson was mostly practise for previously learned skills (figures of 8 to learn about swapping the aids' sides for proper bending on the two circles, half-volte with outside aids, extension and collection of the trot...), and I must admit, one of the best cardio workous I ever got. 

Why? Faïtas had something on his mind that had nothing to do with me, but a lot to do with the hay he had eaten the day before. His efforts to get rid of that annoying problem were vain for most of the lesson, making me have to work twice as hard to get him to pay attention to the tasks at hand. And what a relief (for the both of us actually) when mother nature finally took it's course...

But enough said aboud poor Faïtas intestines. 

I made the mistake of riding Faïtas just as I would have Meeka: she needs to be ridden with relatively harsh hands. Whereas Faïtas, who wears (or so I was told) a harsher bit, does not do well with such forceful manoeuvers. As soon as Cynthia suggested using more legs to balance out my aids better, everything seemed to go much smoother. More legs always seem to do the trick for me. First thing I should always try: like rebooting my PC when it goes crazy...

Faïtas also did something Meeka never tried with me: s-t-a-l-l. What a surprise to feel him evade by sneaking back to the barn, or suddenly stopping and walking backwards or even sideways (at which point I heard Cynthia’s tease: “great leg yields Marie!”) to lean on the arena's wall as if to say "You know what? I think I'll just stay here for a while, you go ahead, I'll watch..." How clever but how conspicuous... This called for my new secret weapon, the infamous kick... I still hate it, but it certainly works.

So point taken: if horses are all from the equus caballus species they are still in essence very different from one another and that their tempers differ greatly as well as their willingness to cooperate. It was nice to get to know Faïtas a little better, and to learn that you need to approach and ride every horse in accordance to his own type, tack, personality AND pay attention to his bodily functions...

Learning to kick some butt

This is a tricky subject for me as I really have a hard time being strict with Meeka (or any other horse for that matter). Therefore she keeps winning argument after argument - figuratively speaking - thus considerably slowing down our progress. Coach says I'm too sweet with her. But my recent experience, and something I read yesterday, made me wonder if I should not reconsider and try to be more assertive (read: dominant) around her and other horses.

Yesterday, I read in a magazine that "horses are neither buddies nor toys". This seems a bit obvious, but still, it resonated within me. Rest assured I'm not one to spend hours and hours washing, combing and braiding a horse just for the "fun" of it, so I get the "it's not a toy" part. I really get that if I had an incredible urge to braid a mane, I'd go fetch myself a 'My Little Pony" figurine and I'd be all set. But with regards to this "being a buddy" concept... Aren't we supposed to be???

Well, it seems not. At least not in these terms. Although I do not deny the development of a great partnership is not only possible but necessary, I'm starting to understand that someone has to be the leader of the dance and that this leader should really be me. But to lead, you first and foremost need to accept and embrace that responsibility, even if it means that sometimes, you're not going to be very popular. But you accept to make that sacrifice, both for yourself and for the welfare of the horse you are educating. 

Then, you need to show the necessary authority, and it's not always easy to define when you should be suggesting, when you should be clearly asking and when you should be forcefully demanding. At least not when you are still a beginner. I had read about the progression of the aids, but it's one thing to read about something, and something else to do it on horse that's much more clever than you can ever imagine.

On Monday when we worked on reversing the aids on the leg yield (to make these awfully elegant zigzags - for lack of a better word) Meeka decided she would only cross her legs to the left. No matter how much I would try to push her shoulders and hinds to the right, she would not do it. And then I clicked: I've indicated what I wanted by using the correct aids, it didn't work. I've used more severe hands and pushed harder with my leg, she still would not comply. So on my next attempt, much to my surprise (honestly, I did not see this coming) and for the first time ever, I extended my left leg and gave her a good kick. This is VERY unlike me, I am all about politeness and courtesy, all about diplomacy and finesse. But this kick in the butt was way more effective than any of the aforementioned techniques to complete a successful leg yield. It was what I needed to do to tell her "I like you a lot, but I'm the one in charge here." You should have seen the rest of the lesson...

**Half an hour later**

I just hung up with my son's English teacher. Crap! It now seems I have some tough love to dispense my son's way too... No kicking though, I promise!

Please do leave a comment on how you learned how to be the leader of the pair. Did it come to you naturally or did you have to overcome your sweet intrinsic nature?

My (aching) body of knowledge

Every week, during my riding lesson, I can't avoid blurting out the same silly thing at one point or another: "Well, Meeka's definitely not a car." I'm so perceptive, aren't I? Of course I am always referring to what I'll call "steering" for comparison purposes. 

Our beloved coaches all start by teaching us the most basic of rein aids. Still, the plain direct rein turn to the right, or left for that matter, just leaves you speechless when you feel your horse change direction without you turning any handlebars or wheel  (thus my recurrent car analogy). Then comes the blessed day in which you understand that the direct rein turn is not like steering the wheel at all, it's actually more like turning on a flasher to indicate which way you wish to go.  

And it's safe to say that you've gotten that incredible insight because comes a point in the process of learning to ride when you HAVE to start using your body to communicate with your horse. Just try a shoulder in or a leg yield with that wonder-making direct rein. Result: nada. Try halting a 1500 pounds horse on an extended trot by pulling as hard as you can on those oh! so magical reins and see what happens... You got it: nothing too elegant. So comes a point when the reins are still very convenient, but kind of take the backstage when it comes to controlling your horse's actions.

A good example of that is a simple exercise we worked on this week. I simply had to go over 5 closely set poles: in suspension over the first 2, halt before the center one then quickly resume the trot and suspension over the next 2 ones. No problem, I'm already thinking I am going to nail this on my first attempt and get the "you're-the-best-rookie-rider-ever award" from my coach. 

Well... not!

On my first pass over the bars, I thought I should try with a super-collected horse. To have more control, you know? But it turns out you can't really trot in suspension with a highly collected horse since you have to release the reins at some point in time to reach for your neck support point. I know, I tried... And once the reins were released, along with all that built up energy, it proved impossible to stop Meeka before the center pole. I pulled as hard as I could (I know... poor Meeka) and she eventually stopped, but way after the pole, all crooked, disorganized and leaning heavily on her hindquarters. Again, nothing too graceful...

Mourning my lost award, I gave it another try (a few other tries actually, but let's cut to the chase). My coach suggested I put Meeka on a very relaxed & controlled trot, using the trick I had learned last week (with horse adjusting to MY gait...) which I did, and then trotted in suspension over the 2 first bar, my own body relaxed as well, trying to maintain a steady rhythm. So far so good. Then, all of a sudden, I stiffened ALL the muscles I could think of between the top of my eyebrows and the sole of my paddocks, then g-e-n-t-l-y pulled on the reins. Results: a clean, square, well-balanced halt, a good 2 feet BEFORE the center pole! When are the next summer Olympics again??? 

So to come back to what I was saying, the success of this whole thing was entirely a question of using my body efficiently to communicate my intentions to Meeka. Certainly no rein pulling or fancy rein effect could have done it. And that simply amazes me.

It amazes me that a horse WILL feel it if you're scared of anything. And it's not your mind it's reading, it's your rear-end! It's the subtle cues of your seat, your balance, your self-assurance, the fluidity of your body movements, everything! I hope it never ceases to amaze me, honestly. I also hope that week after week, my body gets the hang of this and develops new reflexes - just like the ones it developed that now allow me to put on the flashers, turn the wheel, disengage the clutch, shift, answer my kids who want to know what's for dinner then reengage the clutch BEFORE I even finished turning the corner. 

I also hope it develops a bit more muscle in the meantime, because while this body controlled riding is lots of fun, I now have to say a daily prayer so that I can walk again without the help of anti-inflammatories before my next lesson.

I guess that's a small price to pay for the privilege of such great progress!

What? No reins???

Indeed my friends, today my teacher decided to make a huge knot out of my reins and told me I couldn't touch anything BUT the knot. No steering, no brakes, no hanging on to my horse's mouth for dear life, nothing! This could prove one of two things: she absolutely doesn't read this blog and is oblivious to the fact I am terrorized, or on the contrary, she reads it inconspicuously, saw yesterday's bit about fear and decided to play a nasty trick on me (of the very efficient kind, I must admit).

So there I was, trotting in a circle, with a knot both in by hands AND in my stomach, instructed to lengthen and collect the trot solely with the use of subtle cues from my body... Would you like some hash browns with that coach??? But even if I'm sounding a bit frustrated here, in fact It brought out all the determination I had mustered writing here yesterday and I willingly accepted to try the exercise... not that I had much choice mind you... 

I tried but at first I had no control whatsoever on my mount, neither in terms of direction nor in terms of length/collection. It was disastrous. Then, Cynthia told me that one sentence that really triggered something (she always has a very good one-two-punch up her sleeve): there is one very important rule that is well known in the dressage arena, the horse should be following YOUR gait, not the other way around. Really? How could that be? All right then, let me try... 

So after lengthening the trot on the long side of the ring (easy, no steering involved), on the short side, where I was instructed to collect, I locked my pelvis, tightened those abs and started to post the trot at a slower gait than Meeka. It felt awkward at first as I kept hitting the saddle, but after two or three beats, she actually adjusted to MY gait. It was (to me at least) nothing short of a miracle! And soooo much easier than the usual tug-of-war between my hands and her mouth! I could have asked my coach in marriage had she not been... a "she".

And after fifteen minutes this exercise, I was riding with the knot in one hand, the other relaxed on my thigh, sitting the trot like a champ... who would have thought this possible from me? Well, SHE obviously did because she actually had a plan: relax me for the next exercise in line, you got it, CANTER! 

Full of my newly found confidence and sitting on my super-collected horse (I must say Meeka was top-shape today), I started to canter. She had asked me to remain as relaxed as possible and to make a down transition to trot if I felt myself stiffen the least bit, in order for my brain to stop associating canter with something terrifying. Well, good idea. And everything went just fine: I breathed like I said I would, I relaxed like I said I would, I refrained from singing like I said I would, and where I used to canter three of four beats then panic and brake, now I cantered two or three circles at a time without stiffening. My down transitions were better as well. Hey y'all! I just might be getting somewhere!

Praise the Lord for great coaches!

Horse riding: conquering the fear

Today I briefly spoke to a friend whom, after pondering for a while, finally took up riding. Good show! But she was just back from her dreaded first lesson and she had been scared out of her wits... Remember your first lesson? This memory may be more vivid for those of you who took up horse riding as an adult, but it’s certainly no ordinary feat to climb onto the beast – or so we see it – for the very first time. You have absolutely no idea what to expect. And before the next lesson comes, another problem can arise... now you do know what to expect! So fear creeps in, slowly but surely, especially after that first plunge / mouthful of dirt (yes, let’s call it dirt just to keep things palatable here...). 

As a beginner (it’s been a year, do I still qualify?) my nerves still get all topsy-turvy before a ride. Of course, this transfers right to horsey and we both are a mess even before lesson begins. But what to do??? Last week my coach suggested I sang some silly cartoon theme song – anyone for Caillou ? – while I cantered, just to keep my mind off of falling. And even if it did make for a hilarious moment, I decided right then I needed to come up with something else if I wanted to avoid scorching her ears again in the future.

A quick e-mail exchange with a fellow horse lover, who by the way sent me very inspirational documentation and provided kind words of encouragements (thanks again “20 meter circle of life”!), got me thinking: I need a routine to get me into the groove of things, a credo, something to ensure I am ready to face the challenge of learning these new skills without getting all tense and anxious!

So here’s my prep plan for tomorrow’s lesson (inspired in part by Jane Savoie’s works). I’m going to:

1. Visualize a great ride: concentrating on my current challenges i.e. mounting block issue because horse starts trotting uninvitedly with rider – yours truly –  barely balanced atop, jerky or harsh hands compensating for lack of legs, down transition from canter and... err...the infamous canter issue, of course.)
   
   
2. Leave the “what ifs” at home: Fear can be a good thing, but recently, it’s been too much of a good thing. I still want to be careful on and around horses, but my being scared is definitely holding me back in my progression now. So I’m going to stop wondering about “what if I fall?” and “what if she hits the breaks?” and try to be in the present moment. You got it! I am bringing Eckard Tolle at the stables tomorrow!
   
   
3. Embrace fear as a good sign: See, I could have chosen to spend these precious hours of my life watching some pointless daytime drama on TV. But did I? No. Because a year ago I chose to push my personal envelope and hop on a horse to grow some self-esteem. Has it been working? Absolutely. And fear is nothing but a most welcome symptom that the stuff is STILL growing. It is a symptom that I am continuously stepping out of my comfort zone and therefore it should be welcomed if I want to be the least bit coherent with my decision. Right? 
   Right...
   
   
4. Review any technical question I might have with coach prior to lesson: I thought little reminders of what I need to be working on for the lesson could help me get more focused and determined. Dressage is very technical and as you all know, requires a lot of independence of the aids. But how difficult!!! This hands (left and right) and legs (again, left and right) independence thing is even more difficult to me than when I used to play Bach on the piano – with melody and accompaniment changing constantly from the right hand to the left and then back. At least my legs weren’t involved then! So if I review the technical stuff before mounting, I think I might be more concentrated, maybe I'll finally-get-it-this-time, and I hope I then succeed in bringing some of this newly gained wisdom with me in the saddle and throughout the lesson...And finally:
   
   
5. Breathe... Breathe.... and Breathe...
   

Experienced riders out there, have you got any other tips for me?

Cantering, the last frontier

Sweet Meeka was particularly relaxed today, not leaning on the bit at all, happy to extend or collect the trot, happy with the leg-yields, she could have been happy with the flies for all I know. I was not about to pass that opportunity to work on the infamous canter issue.

First of all, it has not always been that arduous for me. I used to ride horses that had revv-up buttons all over and started cantering effortlessly. But Meeka, well, let me put it this way: she's a bit thick-skinned. No amount of pressing, urging, kicking or hair-pulling will convince her to canter if she is not so inclined. What to do?

It seems one of the secret is in the collection of the horse. Yes, yet again, the infamous collection. After a series of exercises on the flat to put her on the bit and between the hands and the legs, my coach suggested that we cantered on the circle. I raise a dubitative eyebrow but I guess that it wasn't enough to make her change her mind because she pressed me to "start trotting already". My mount had been a little prime for the whole class, so I kind of expected her to bolt as soon as I remotely thought about "maybe" cantering.  So I rode her on short reins in a highly collected trot. At that point in time, it was not in preparation of anything, I just didn't want her to make a dash for the stable! But after a while, I felt that she had so much collected energy that I just lightly loosened of reins and voilà! No kicking, no crop, no fight! Just a smooth transition into an even, well rounded canter...

And then there was me.

I can't help it, sometimes I'm scared. They say it's normal but I can't forgive myself for being so terrified of the canter. But my coach always seems to get the better of me. As a teacher, I need someone who is just as strong-headed as I am and I believe I've met my match. Cynthia always finds the right words to either trick me into doing something she knows I can do (while I'm busy being frightened) or to make me understand the subtleties of the moves (and even the state of minds) I need to work on to make some progress. 

Today was no exception. As soon as we picked up speed, I tensed. And you might know this, but our horse’s brains and ours are directly linked by what I believe to be a high speed USB 2.0 cable. They know how we feel when we feel it, and they WILL take advantage of it whenever they can (I also know people like that but that's a whole other story). So when Meeka felt my conviction level drop, she just fell back into a much disorganized, uncomfortable but supposedly less demanding trot.

But as soon as my coach got me relaxed, using the exact same methods she uses with the horses (which is no compliment to my IQ but...) I cantered like a champ (well, a future champ...). So yes, there's the horse collection, but the rider's part seems to be just as important: keep a cool head, relaxed hands and seat, and in your mind's eyes, picture yourself in Normandy, cantering towards the sunset and "Le Mont Saint-Michel" on a wide sandy beach. Well, that last bit was from me, but it certainly worked!

Do you have the "equestrian intuition" yet?

Today was lesson day again. Never too early if you want my opinion. 

I finally investigated the infamous riding gloves. I have been told that the best ones to protect my hands against a strong horse that yanks on the reins are the bright yellow roper's gloves by SSG. Me...Bright yellow. I think not. But it seems that they now come in black, I guess I was not the only one with style issues here. I already own a pair of these; unfortunately they are way too large. I now use them to tack-up whenever my hands are cold, they are so comfortable. I guess I'll have to go shopping (girls, don't you hate when that happens to you?). 

If you want to test the size of your glove, have someone pull on the pinkie and the thumb fingers at the same time, if the pinkie loosens, they're too large, will slip on your hands and will be hindering your control on the reins when you ride. Just try to canter with your little fingers frantically poking inside your gloves to find the proper whole... 

In the meantime, it seems that nothing will be better that taped fingers under my regular gloves to help ease the pain and help with the blistering. And that's what I did today. Worked like a charm. 

Today we worked on the circle to put Meeka on the bit, then in serpentines. The main difficulty, as you may know, is to trace nice & even semi-circles, while keeping a good rhythm, alternating the aids (when inside becomes outside and the other way around), staying on the right diagonal and, last but not least, without losing collection! Piece of cake right? Absolutely not. 

Still, I find my riding has improved quite a lot since some of the moves have now become second nature: balance and stability in the stirrups, some of the more complex rein aids (especially the indirect rein behind the withers, when you move your inside hand towards the outside hip - extra useful for taking Meeka back on the track when she starts cutting the corners) and what seems like a budding "equestrian instinct". Finally, it seems that my patience and hard work is paying off. 

Nevertheless, when my coach asks me "did you feel that Meeka was popping her shoulder?". Almost 100% of the times, my answer is a humble "No..." invariably followed by a long sigh (that's when I'm not busy panting, of course). It seems that riders who develop a feel for their horse usually make progress in leaps and bounds (no pun intended here), as if something had unlocked from inside. I'll let you know if it turns out to be true, provided that eventually, I do develop that invaluable 6th sense!

What about you? How long did it take you to be able to tell if your horse was popping a shoulder, or over bending to avoid making an effort? Can you instinctively anticipate and correct a bad movement or are you still waiting for this elusive "equestrian intuition" to kick in?

Troubles in the barn & trials on the bit

It was a radiant day today to finally get to see my Meeka again. She's not mine per say, but I ride her every week and treat her just like she was. She's a tall 16 hands mare, strong and a bit pigheaded, but as sweet as can be.

For the first time today, she ran away when I opened her box. Without a halter, or at least a bit in her mouth, she suddenly seemed twice as big and twice as strong. I had no control whatsoever, neither on her nor on the situation. It felt as awkward (and as scary) as if I was running behind a very tall zebra to try and catch it with my bare hands. I guess I just could sense the wilderness that still remains in her even if she is usually your basic calm (sometimes too calm) school horse. But with the help of a stable girl, we cornered her in an empty box, and putting on my most assertive face and attitude (a.k.a a front), I entered and finally put her on a lead chain. Pfew!

Today's lesson was mostly dressage. We worked on the circle to put her on the bit, which seems pretty easy but, as you may know, is an intense workout for both horse and rider. I now have calluses on my fingers from holding the reins so tight and vibrating like there's no tomorrow. That's why I will need to investigate riding gloves. I used to think "the classier the better" but it is becoming obvious that I'm wrong (and vain). My teacher recommended a variety that has padding on the inside of the fingers. I'll let you know if they look good too, but I doubt it. In the meantime, I'm sporting a bright yellow band-aid on my right hand ring finger, thanks to I'll-pull-those-reins-outta-your-hands-if-I-have-to-die-doing-it Meeka.

For those of you who don't know, the vibrating in the reins is supposed to relax the horse's jaw until it "gives-in". Not in terms of submission, but more in terms of accepting to work with you, obey you aids (hands and legs) and build impulsion. Most of the times I succeed at putting Meeka on the bit, but never for long. It's very demanding physically to have to always support your horse, even in the down transitions, so that it remains collected even at full stop. But one day, or so my teacher says, I'll be able to keep her collected throughout the lesson. Let's keep in touch, maybe in a year or two...

Then back to my favourite (read "dreaded") exercise: the leg yield. I guess there's something about this I just don't get. One time I'm the next dressage half-pass champion, the next, Meeka just about does anything she likes and I have no idea what I've done different. The thing is, this exercise does make you work on your independence of the aids - just like a piano player playing the melody with one hand and the accompaniment with the other. I guess I need to work on independence between hands and legs, and pay more attention to the how the horse "feels" underneath me while we merrily move sideways (or so we try).

I'd like to read your comments on this exercise, is it just me or is it really as difficult as I think it is?

For the very first time

I actually consider that there were two first times for me. I know, it can't be, but part one was soooo humiliating that I've sent that memory into oblivion and focused on "My very first time: The Sequel", which was much more constructive. Still, I am willing to briefly revisit part one, as I believe I may not be the only one to have been ridiculed by more seasoned riders the first time I saddled up.

It was not my idea actually. If I had remembered whose idea it was, he/she would have had a piece of my mind. But anyhow, about 15 years ago on a hot summer afternoon, I do remember some tourist ranch owner telling me, while handing me the reins of a large bay gelding, "Don't worry, he's good-tempered". I guess he must have wanted to reassure me, but in fact, he had just underlined the fact that horses actually have a temper. Oh really? Well, I mounted anyway. 

The horse graciously coped with the fact that I had to wiggle my way up to the saddle. Exit my vision of a graceful "swing-up & canter into the sunset" mount. I just praised whomever thought-up pommels and mounting blocks, grasping here and hopping there. When I finally succeeded and sat straight, I barely had time to assess just how high I was actually perched, grab the reins and off we went, with me and my very long-legged buddy closing the march.

If you've ever mounted a horse, you'll certainly remember how awkward it feels to have this thing move under you without having to push the pedal or the accelerator. Talk about losing control! You're not sitting on a moving couch either: the sway of the gait, even at slow walk, is a disconcerting sensation at first. Nevertheless, the scenery took my mind off my apprehension for a while and I let myself enjoy what I thought would be "a ride in the park".  

As my horse was nonchalantly following the others in the trail, I started to think there really was nothing to it. Misconception that I have since corrected. But after a while the trail abruptly stopped at a deep set river bank. Our guide suggested we cross the river to the other side then gave it a go. I wasn't too keen about having to manoeuvre my mount down that muddy slope but at that point, pride kept me silent as I watched his horse struggle, slide towards the water and painfully try to regain his balance at the bottom. Then "John Wayne" motioned at me: "Your turn, come on!"

Brain freeze. I was terrified. At that moment, I knew I'd rather be labelled as a "grade A coward" than sitting on a mud-skating horse falling towards a rocky river bed. So because of me - and in spite of everybody's pleas for courage - we turned around. Oh, the shame!

However, it seemed that everybody was disappointed except for my horse, who was secretly delighted to go back to the all-you-can-graze comfort of the farm. So as soon as we left the trail for an open field, he picked up the pace to a very energetic canter, moment at which I thought that going down that slope may not have been that bad after all. 

Not knowing how to follow the movement, I bounced like a leap-frog in the saddle, fervently praying I would not fall off. Again, exit my bucolic vision of unperturbedly riding the canter, hair blowing in the wind, sun sprinkling freckles on my nose. Nope, different story altogether. Our guide, worried that I might be in distress (praise the Lord for intuition) urged his horse to pass mine, turned around in his saddle then continued cantering sitting backwards - however that may be. Seeing that I was in no immediate danger, he delighted himself in the sight of me, jolted around and scared out of my wits, then bellowed a roaring laugh and yelled "Great Bronco style!" 

I was mortified.

15 years later, I still felt the pang of humiliation when my trainer told me we'd be trying to canter for the first time. But determination had the best of me on that day, and with proper supervision and instructions, I did it. No bouncing, no grasping, It's just the best feeling of all. 

So now, exit bronco style: every time Meeka and I pick up the canter, I'm the proudest most confident of riders. If you've ever a bad experience and decided horse riding was not for you, you might want reconsider. Riding as a tourist on a horse that is only trained to follow is NOT the same as actually taking riding lessons. Horse rides aimed at tourists can become quite upsetting should you ever feel like you're losing control, whereas riding lessons are an empowering confidence and moral booster like no other.  Try it, and let it be your idea.