The 'lose' I had to have

Lil and I having an argument during a Dressage test.  (This photo is actually from Dunolly HT.)

Recently my own riding club held a mid-week Dressage competition.  I jumped at the opportunity and took Lil to it.  Being mid-week it wasn't going to impact my family in any way, and so I wasn't about to get called "competes too much".  Winner!

A day or two before the competition it poured.  So on the day the arenas were wet - to put it mildly.

I got there, saddled up Lil and rode into the warm-up arena.  She was warming up well on the wet surface, but I knew I was going to have a bad day.  It wasn't that I was scared, it wasn't that I was ill prepared, it wasn't that I didn't know my tests.  I have very strong intuition, and it was simply that I was destined to have a bad run. Nevertheless, I warmed my horse up as best as I could, and I went over the dressage tests in my mind to make sure that I knew them inside out.  Surely I can beat destiny?

I rode into the first test and it was going well.  Lil was travelling brilliantly.  And then it happened.  On the second trot circle she got a bit unbalanced, we got into a bit of an argument, I tried to remedy the situation rather than focusing on the test, and all of a sudden we were in the corner where the canter started.  Except that we were still trotting, and still arguing.  Arghh!  So I kicked her into canter, but it was a rushed transition, and we ended up on the wrong leg!!!  And this on her better rein!  I corrected the canter lead, and the canter wasn't too bad, but the marks were lost.  We got 3 for that transition.

I rode back into the warm-up ring feeling rather sullen.  What ever can I do in the second test to remedy the situation?  The second test was in an arena that was water logged.  Some horses seemed to cope with the going better than others.  Lil was in the second group.  She hated it!  Somewhere during the second test I could feel God laughing.  I tried my best, and admittedly I succeeded in completing the test - Lil had serious intentions on exiting at A every time we passed it.

So why did I "have to have" such a terrible run.  Because, when you lose, you learn.  When you lose you get disappointed, you get sad, and if you've got half a spine you get angry!  It's ok to be "angry".  Just don't take it out on your horse and on others.  But "angry" is good.  Because if you can control the angry energy it will take you to great heights in the future.  Ha!  "Take you".  It won't just "take you".  You'll get rocket propelled forwards! Sometimes, by falling flat on your face and losing, you learn much faster than by taking slow positive steps forward.

So what did I learn?  Heaps.  But I'll try to narrow it down.  My dressage on Lil is, to summarise it bluntly, "crap".  Look at Lil's last three horse trials results - 8th, 7th and 7th.  Good results right?  So what would it have taken to come 6th?  Well, it would have taken a much better dressage score!  Because she was already (mostly) clear in the cross country and in the showjumping.  The points difference between her and the 6th placed horse at Dunolly was 2 dressage penalty points.  Ok, so maybe that's not that much.  What if we wanted to be 5th? 9 dressage penalty points.  That's already a lot.  But what if we wanted to be first?  18 dressage penalty points.  Whoa!  See what I mean?

But when you're just doing horse trials it doesn't show up so much, and so you cruise around getting ribbons for 7th and everyone thinks you are doing wonderfully.  When you get out there and do just a dressage competition, and a couple of things go slightly wrong, then the weaknesses come out and bite you.

Ok, good.  So our dressage is weak.  Weaker than I thought.  I need to improve it.  How?

XC Review: Dunolly Horse Trials

The Dunolly Horse Activity Club cross country course is flat, and Dunolly makes no apologies about this. And neither should it.

In this case I did Grade 4 - twice. First on my pony, then on my mare. The height of the jumps was very good, with a few slightly smaller ones, and plenty of jumps at maximum height.

I would rate the complexity as average for a Grade 4 course. Most of the jumps ask the horse to be bold. But there are very few technical challenges. So this course really allows you and your horse to gallop along, and assess every fence on its own merits. The variety of fences is also fantastic - probably the only things that were missing is a ditch and a brush.

The course rode really well. With the flatness, and simplicity, the only thing you need to worry about is that your horse is travelling well, and that you are providing enough drive so that the horse jumps when required. If your horse is reasonably bold, then this could make for a great first outing. If your horse is more experienced, then this course is a great run. If you have just moved up from Grade 5 and are a bit tentative, then this might prove a bit challenging. For my 9 year old daughter - this would be a nice third cross country at Grade 5.

The Cross Country course in detail

Jump 1 is a ski ramp with a roof and the option of adding logs for higher grades.  I wouldn't call this the most inviting first jump, especially since logs are added in front of the jump, creating a gap.  The jump is also a bit to the right of the starting gates - which means you need to veer towards the floats to get a good line. However, my horses didn't have an issue with the roof or the gap, and it rode really well.

Jump 2 is white shark teeth on a reddish background.  This was in a straight line from jump 1, but both of my horses took a bit of a look at it.  My pony actually had a run-out here - but I was also having control issues.

Then a sweeping right turn to jump 3 - the bow tie.  Rides really well.  Into the trees, and a sharp right turn to jump 4 - the seat.  This comes up a bit suddenly and is a bit narrow, but if you slow down on the turn, then it rides well.

Through the compulsory flags, and left to jump 5 - the log pile.  This is a bit hidden in the trees, and comes up quickly.  I actually missed the turn on my pony, and ended up doing the grade 3 jump by accident.

Jump 5 lines you up beautifully for 6A and 6B (logs).  You have about 6 or 7 strides from jump 5 to 6A, then about 3 strides to 6B.  So this rides really well, the jumps are simple, although 6B is a little bit narrow, and if you slack off, you will get a run-out.

Jump 7 is a stack of rocks.  Then you turn for home, go past the bank, switch back to the right and pop onto the bank (8A) one stride, then down the bank (8B).  Then switch back to the left, over the tyres (jump 9) and over jump 10 - the trakener with water in the ditch.  This jump worried me a lot, but the tyres lined you up perfectly, and neither of my horses even blinked an eyelid at it.  The tyres were a portable jump.

Jump 11 is a mound of dirt covered by a blue tarp with silos on either side.  The silos prevent a run-out, but the blue tarp causes some consternation for the less brave horses.  My pony didn't bat an eyelid, but my mare did a massive leap over it.

Jump 12 is the water.  A small drop in, the water is not deep, the footing is great, then a ramp out.  If you've done your homework, then this should be a breeze.

Jump 13 are dog bones - a white and red jump.  If this was a normal bush log, then it would be easy.  But the colours certainly cause some horses to eye it off with suspicion.

Jump 14 is the gold mine - a wooden trough with rocks in it, some of them gold rocks.  On a very sunny day, with sun glare on the gold rocks this could be quite a dazzling jump.  However, it is very wide as it extends to higher and lower grades on either side so a run-out is unlikely.  At this stage you are heading straight for home, so most horses should decide that going over is just the easiest option.

Jump 15 is the "Welcome Stranger" - a log with a massive gold nugget underneath, set amongst eucalypt branches.  There is something about this jump that makes the horses have second thoughts, so don't take it for granted.

Dingo's Cross Country at Dunolly Horse Trials

(This is a description of Dingo's Cross Country round at Dunolly Horse Trials).

I ride Dingo into the cross country warm-up and realise that I've got the wrong reins attached to his bridle.  I've got the dressage reins, which are all smooth leather.  I was intending to swap them for the webbed reins with the little regular stoppers - too late now.

The warm-up goes well and he is travelling very nicely between leg and hand, and being quite responsive to the bit.  The warm-up jumps also go well, and I even do one of the bigger logs.

We face the course, the starter counts us down, and we're off.  Dingo travels nicely to the first jump, and has no issues with the slightly tricky ramp under an arch.  But as we land, the reins slip through my fingers and I suddenly regret my rein blunder.  The breeze hits my face, my eyes water, my glasses slip down my nose as Dingo travels a lot more on the forehand than anything he did in the warm-up.  I can barely see, when we have a run out at number two.  We get over it easily on the second attempt, and I grip the reins tightly into the next jump.

Jumps three and four go well, but after four I again grapple for control, as Dingo leans on the bit and the reins just slip through my fingers.  I see the jumps judge for jump 5, and wonder why they are sitting with their back to the jump.  I get through the compulsory flags and look for my line.

(What happens in reality is that we are travelling so fast, that I totally miss the line for the level 4 jump.  I in fact take the line for the level 2 jump, get put off by the height, and end up jumping the level 3 jump.  But I have no idea about this, until I ride the course again on Lil.)

I see a jump up ahead, it's got number 5 on it, but it looks way too big for me.  So I look to the left.  There is also a jump with a number 5 on it, so I aim for that one.  The colour of the number does not register at all.  What does register is that we are now on the path for the grade 3 jumps.  I have 7 fast strides, and very little rein control to correct our line, and do level 4 6A and 6B.  And I am left a bit bewildered that when we walked the course, jumps 5 and 6 seemed to line up so well, yet when riding it, they were all out of whack.  So weird.

But I have no time to give it another thought, as the reins slide through my fingers, Dingo hangs his head an inch above the ground (is he looking for gold?) and we gallop on towards number 7.  I manage to shorten my reins, steady him and we're over.  And I'm out of control again.

I try to slow him to a trot coming into the bank, but the minute he sees the obstacle he is all go and action.  This pony just has no respect that his rider may want to go a little bit slower - just for the fun of it!  After the bank, and drop, I actually pull him up.  Up until now I've kind of been able to clamp my fingers onto the rein and retain some semblance of something.  But now it's all starting to fall apart.

I take a breather, then kick him on again.  Over the tyres, then drive over the trakener.  He doesn't even blink an eyelid, doesn't flick an ear.  On the other side, however, he is so strong, that I actually do a circle to regain control.  As long as I am not about to present to a jump, this is totally within the rules.

He clears the tarp mound (jump 11).  I slow down to trot before the water and he boldly jumps in, wondering why in the world I would have wanted to slow him down.  Then over the dog bones (jump 13) and the gold mine (jump 14).  I grip the reins so hard my fingers are numb.  I still have very little control.  Perhaps I even don't have any control.  Who knows.  He takes a glance at the "Welcome Stranger" (jump 15), but one kick and he is over it, and across the finish line.

The second we cross that finish line I start looping back in a big arc.  It's my only hope to stop.  My fingers and my hands are totally numb.  My shoulders are aching.  I'll have the best triceps after this.

Finally, we come to the walk.  The funny line at number 5 is long forgotten, and the only thing I can think about is what can I do to make my hands work again so I can ride Lil.

When I ride the course on Lil, and take the correct line for jump number 5, I realise that that is not the jump I did on Dingo.  As I continue to ride the course on Lil I am so focused on riding her that I don't give it another thought.  It is only when I finish the course on Lil that I suddenly think "if I didn't do the level 4 jump on Dingo, then I must have done the level 3 jump", and then "if I did the level 3 jump on Dingo, then Dingo has been eliminated".

Cross Country Post Mortem

I believe that everything happens for a reason.  I forgot to change my reins - for a reason.  I jumped that grade 3 jump - for a reason.  That grade 3 jump felt easy - for a reason.  And later, in the showjumping, the grade 4 jumps were hard, and Dingo was stopping, and I fell off - for a reason.  It's in correctly understanding the reasons that we either make it, or break it for ourselves in the future.  The elimination is immaterial.

So what's my take?

Remember to change your reins before cross country.  And if you happen to have the wrong reins, then put a set of knots in them.

The wrong reins, forced me to ride Dingo on a much longer contact.  At the time it felt scary because with every stride the reins grew longer and longer.  But later I realised that this longer contact had no bearing whatsoever on his jumping.  He jumped a grade 3 jump on that longer contact.  What had a bearing on his jumping was how much leg I was using.  The longer contact, also allowed him to use his back better - it's exactly what I've been trying to get him to do!

We jumped a grade 3 jump.  We jumped it because I was using my leg, and allowing Dingo to have a longer contact.  We jumped it because I was allowing him to travel.  Perhaps it was faster than what I wanted, but it is what suited him.  Perhaps there is a balance between the two?

I fell off in the showjumping, over a course that should have been easy for Dingo.  If it was on grass it would have been easy.  But it was in deep sand.  And I should have not worried about the reins at all, just ridden it totally from the leg.  In that deep sand, he was travelling exactly as he should be.  I just need to add leg.

And so it all comes back to the same thing - less rein, more leg, more trust.  Put that into my training with Dingo, and see where we come out at the end.  Find a huge, flat paddock and go galloping on a loose rein - see what happens.  Ride in a headstall (have the bridle on just in case), and see what happens.  Play.

Dunolly Horse Trials 2014

Dunolly is a small town in the middle of the Victorian Gold Fields.  We first heard about it on Macca's (Ian Macnamara) set of CD's in a song "I'm the last man from Dunolly" about a soldier returning from the war - the only soldier from the Dunolly area to be returning.  When I noticed the Dunolly Horse Trials on the eventing calendar, we didn't need any further prodding to make the 4 hour trip.

My husband, my daughter and I arrive on late Friday afternoon, and setup camp.  By the time I get the stove out, its dark, and my husband makes some noises that sound like "pub" and "beer".  We eat our camp meal, and then drive into Dunolly.  On the way, we listen to "the song" that brought us here, then spend a somber moment at the war memorial.

We waltz merrily into the cheerful pub, and strip off our winter woolies as the warmth of the open fire hits us.  We sit at the bar drinking our beer and fairy drinks; we glance around at the locals.  There are three people next to me, and one of them pulls out a gold nugget about the size of a 50c coin.  He shares its story with his friends while we stare shamelessly.  He found it on his property with a metal detector.  Had to dig for it.  But he thinks there's more further down.  His eyes sparkle with a strange kind of excitement ... gold fever.

Our shameless staring is hard to ignore, and he eventually turns to us and lets us hold the nugget.  My daughter is spellbound as history unrolls itself right in front of her eyes.  We pulled her out of school early today to come here - I think it's just paid dividends.

The freezing night air hits us as we leave the pub.  The sleeping bags in our tent are nice and warm, and we get a good night's sleep.

The morning is overcast but mild, and I have a thousand chores to do around the horses, as well as plaiting up and getting them ready for dressage.  My husband and daughter can afford to take it a bit more easy, and they pedal off on their bicycles to Dunolly.

I manage to get the plaiting done just in time, using up the very last bit of the black thread on Lil's mane.  Dingo's warm up goes brilliantly.  He is very relaxed and very happy, and produces a test to match which places him 7th.  Lil on the other hand, is the total opposite.  She is stepping under really well, but she is tense.  She can see the cross country course, and she is far too excited to be paying attention.  Nevertheless, the dressage is not bad and she ends up 14th.

We walk the cross country course - this is a newly built cross country course, with this competition being the official cross country course opening weekend.  The course is beautiful - and I have added a full review of it to my cross country review series.  All I will say is that I expect jump 10 - a trakener with water in the ditch - to be the show stopper.  It certainly has me shaking in my boots every time I think about it.

We do another trip to the pub, and then attend the dinner hosted by the Dunolly Horse Activity Club.  The food is fabulous, the atmosphere is warm, and the people are lovely.

There is a bit of wind during the night.  It makes funny sounds, and wakes me up.  Every time I wake up I go over the cross country course in my mind, getting a serious adrenaline rush at number 10.  It's amazing that I go back to sleep.

In the morning, my husband is off to Ballarat for a bike ride with his mates.  And then the comedy of errors begins.  I get both horses ready, and ride off on Dingo into the Cross Country warm-up.  I realise that I still have my dressage reins on Dingo's bridle - oh well, too late to change now.  I am barely in trot, when I see a wild bay horse galloping loose up the home straight.  I gaze at my float - Lil is no longer tied up.  Ooops.  I ride up to the edge of the bunting, and call out to her.  The galloping horse comes to a standstill opposite Dingo.  My daughter walks up, but she is not old enough to handle Lil - let alone an excited Lil.  So we wait for an adult to walk up and ask for assistance.  The lady assures me she will find a secure yard for Lil.

Dingo's warm up goes extremely well.  He is light in the hand, and responsive to the bit.  I might just be able to get away with these reins after all.  We start off on Cross Country and everything changes.  The reins immediately run through my fingers, and I lose most of my control.  The ride is so eventful that it deserves a separate post.  We have a run out at jump 2, but otherwise go clear.  The pony doesn't even blink at jump number 10!

Then it's Lil's turn.  We have a very short time to warm-up, which suits me fine.  She knows what she needs to do, she's already had her warm-up gallop (ha ha ha!), and the sooner she gets going, the sooner she can get back to Dingo.  We go clear over the first, and then establish who is going to do what as we approach jump 2.  She gives it a quick second look, and from then on we're very clear.  I'll just sit and ride, and she will gallop and jump.  We get a good rhythm, she works well into the hand, and I just give a bit of encouragement before each jump.  She swallows up the Cross Country course.  I never doubt anything.  The trakener is a piece of cake.  At the water I slow her down to a walk.  She takes a look, then pops in.  Out of the water and we re-establish our rhythm.  I watch the finish gates glide past us and then I punch my fist into the air.  Yes!  Yes!  and YES!!!  What an absolutely fantastic, awesome, unbelievable run!

I jump off and my daughter runs in and shares in the joy.  I smile at her, and share a little home truth.  "Lil's gone clear, but I've just realised that Dingo has been eliminated."  She stares.  "I did the wrong jump on Dingo - I did a grade 3 jump and I didn't even notice at the time.  I've just realised now.  But never mind.  It's just another learning lesson."

Lil knows she's done the required job, and she now just wants to get back to Dingo.  The vet comes over and she throws her head to the side in protest, hitting the vet.  It hurts.  We are asked to walk away, settle the horse, and come back in about 5 to 10 minutes.  I sober up somewhat.  "You know what", I say to my daughter "Lil might also get eliminated."  "Why?", she stares in disbelief.  "Well, she did run out on Cross Country course, she could get eliminated for that, and now she hit the vet so she might get eliminated for bad behaviour."  "Can they do that?", she asks.  I grow serious.  "I presume they can.  Horses should be well behaved."  The next time the vet approaches we make sure that Lil is on her best behaviour.  This time we pass.

I change Dingo's reins and warm him up for showjumping.  From the first jump I know that something is wrong.  The pony is travelling in a totally different way than normal, and if I was a better, more experienced rider, I would be able to change my riding style to match.  But I don't have that experience, yet.  All I can do is sit and wonder - something is very different.  It's the footing.  The sand in the jumping arena is very deep.  Perhaps too deep.  Dingo doesn't cope.  I manage to ride it out until he sees jump 6 - the double.  It's too much, he stops and I fall off.  He is now double eliminated.  It's kind of funny, but I just hope they allow me to ride Lil.

I warm Lil up.  She is the last to go, and as our round approaches there are less and less horses in the warm-up ring.  Until there are none.  And the cold front - rainless perhaps, but with eerie dark clouds and cold wind - buffets against us.  I manage to hold it all together - just.  We ride into the ring.  Lil also struggles somewhat with the deep footing, but she copes.  However, we can't get a really good flowing rhythm.  As jump number 6 approaches, time seems to come to a standstill.  Six strides to go.  We will do this.  Five.  I apply leg.  Four.  I look at element B.  Three.  I apply leg.  Two.  I look up.  One.  We go through it.  I breathe.  After jump 9, Lil heads for the corner, and I hear a little voice from the sidelines "Forward Mama!  Forward!".  I ride forward, and we do jumps 10, and 11.  Clear!

We look after the horses, then my daughter sits me down in a chair and looks after me.  She gets me food from the food bag, and organises a drink.  No - it's not a beer.  Later we attend the presentations.  Dingo, as expected, is eliminated.  Lil comes 7th and I receive a beautiful pink ribbon.

Then it's time to pack up.  My husband returns from his bike ride an hour later than expected.  The competition also ran about an hour later than expected.  So the light is fading as we finally drive off between the slightly undulating sweeping plains where kangaroos hop without a care in the world.

Wandin delivers

Two horses on the float, daughter still in her PJ's smiling through her sleep in the back seat, pitch black outside and we're off to Wandin ODE.  We arrive without dramas, park, unload and register.

I get all dressed up in my jacket, then Dingo and I ride down to the dressage warm-up.  Dingo's dressage is in Big Wandin.  The warm-up goes well and probably my biggest issue is that he feels about ready after 10 minutes, yet we have another 30, especially since the tests are running late.  I am a bit stuck at what to do.  How do I ensure I don't "ruin" what we have.  This is not helped by one rider, who always seems to be riding straight into us.  Funny that we don't have that problem with the 10 other riders in the warm-up.

Our turn finally comes, and when the judge toots the horn she is in the shade and I can't see her wave.  So I am not sure.  Was that my judge?  Or was it not?  I look at the other arenas and by process of elimination decide that it was my judge.  I ride in, still not quite sure whether I am about to get eliminated because I didn't ride into the arena on time, or because I rode into the arena uninvited.

I do my first halt and realise that the whole judge and horn issue has taken up so much of my mind, that I have forgotten the test.  I quickly remember it, but any softness we may have had just vanishes as I tense in a sudden panic.  The first half of the test is wasted.  In the second half, I relax again and let it flow a bit more.  By then, Dingo is tired.  Uggh!

I grimace and put it behind me as we walk back towards the float.  Then it's off to walk the cross country course.  I look at it and decide that this just might sort a few horses out.  It's all at the right level, nothing too hard, nothing too easy, a few nice give aways, and some challenges.  Love it!

Then it's back into the dressage ring with Lil.  Her dressage is at the top of the hill, and the sweeping views alone get her eyeballs rolling.  Then there is the odd pram.  I get her in control quick smart - something I wouldn't have been able to do a year or two ago - and the warm-up goes well.

When it comes to our turn I have another stuff up with the judge and horn, but I'm not eliminated.  Then there is the issue of the view.  Ever ytime Lil has to go towards the judge she is as smooth as butter.  Every time she goes away from the judge she starts freaking out and loses all forward.  Double uggh!

So it's another test to move on from as we quickly unsaddle Lil and get Dingo ready for cross country.  As we approach the course I become acutely aware that I am quite hungry and very thirsty.  I've only had an apple since breakfast in the car.  Must remedy this after cross country.

The warm up goes well, and I get some really lovely jumps from Dingo.  But the minute we start, he takes off like a mad thing, not listening and paying attention.  And so when we get to jump two, the picket fence with all the colourful flowers in front of it, Dingo gets the shock of his life.  Refusal one.  We get over it, and have a few more arguments along the way.  Another refusal at the table top, and one more at the double.  Not our best performance.

I rush back, and get Lil.  In the process I manage to scoff down a banana and drink some water.  We only have 10 minutes to warm up, but it's enough.  She also takes off a bit like a mad thing, but when I slow her down before the picket fence she starts paying attention.  She doesn't really like the flowers, but is happy enough to put in a leap when asked.  We're smoothly through next few, and then the eye glasses give her the fright of her life - she seriously thinks she's about to jump over the head of a tiger or dragon!  We get a refusal at the double, but otherwise she jumps everything, although some of her leaps are so big, she may as well be doing 3*!

Back to the float.  Get Lil unsaddled and comfortable.  I give up on "the look", and stay in my cross country vest.  Taking it off would mean taking off my helmet, putting the vest away, getting the jacket.  I just can't be bothered.

We get Dingo ready for showjumping.  Here we get a bit confused - where is the showjumping?  I am grateful for my little strapper who holds my pony while I enquire about ring location.  We still get there early, and I even have time to walk the course.  Wow.

Now, the showjumping course.  At most other HT competitions the grade four showjumping course is little more than grade five, with a couple of enticing cross rails and only a few jumps set at the maximum 60cm.  And then the next level is Intro, and all of a sudden everything is at 80cm with an 80cm spread.  I mean how are you supposed to do such a massive leap?  Here, I must acknowledge the Wandin grade four showjumping course as being excellent.  Every single jump is at 60cm, with a couple of enticing oxers.  No inviting cross rails.  Just a real course providing a good grade four test for horse and rider.  Wandin - well done to you!

During the warm-up I keep our poor cross country performance in mind, and I keep thinking "light contact, and good drive".  I jump one warm-up jump.  Just one.  It's enough.  My pony is on the ball, and I don't need to stir him up any more.  We ride our round.  Dingo has a bit of a funny corner after jump six, which puts a rail on the ground of element 7A.  Otherwise it's a textbook round.

We go back to the float and this time we actually have enough time to scratch ourselves, as well as unsaddle Dingo, give him a proper brush and a cuddle, and get him all ready for going home.  We get Lil ready, and head back to the showjumping ring.

As we walk towards the ring, Lil is resisting.  I'm starting to think that even at grade four, the showjumping round truly is a test of fitness.  I coax Lil forward and we get to the warm up area.  I coax her through the warm-up.  A lot of walk, then a lot of trot.  When I feel her loosen up, I pop her over the jump.  Just one jump.  She's on the ball.  That's enough.  Then I just keep her warm and ticking over until it's our turn.

We ride into the showjumping arena and Lil's ears prick up.  I talk with the judge, the bell rings, I kick Lil into a trot.  An energy surges up in her that I did not expect.  "You point, and I'll shoot", she seems to say.  I don't need to kick her into canter.  I just point her at jump 1, jump 2, and so on till jump 9.  She is amazing.  She just flies.  She just clears everything in her path.  This is her forte.  She goes clear.  What can I say?  This little horse, with her odd fitness niggles, with her nasty attitude, with her royal airs, has just made my day!

Back at the float we make Lil comfortable and ready to go home.  I smile at my daughter.  She smiles back.  She's been a strapper all day long.  Now her Mummy is back.  She slips her little hand in mine and we go to get an ice cream.  We check out the results.  Dingo is about 18th, but Lil has managed to come 7th!  Wow!  After that awful dressage too.  "Mamma, I think you'll get a ribbon for Lil", says my daughter.  "Nah, I'm pretty sure it's just ribbons to 6th place.  We've missed out", I laugh.

We gaze some more at the results - overall so many cross country faults, so many eliminations, a few rails down in showjumping.  I knew that cross country was going to sort us out.  Wandin delivered a fantastic competition.

This is the first time I've ridden two horses at a horse trials, and it was busy, but I loved it.  I have found the real me.  Now that it's time to go home, the idea of staying for the presentations doesn't even enter my mind.  A pity - because it turns out that Lil just may have won a rosette after all.  Come to think of it, I should probably attend the presentations regardless of my placing.  And that's not the only lesson I walk away with.

Choosing Colours

The beauty of Eventing is that for cross country you can choose the colours that you ride in.  Of course you can ride in just a random shirt.  But why ride in any old shirt when you can have a shirt that matches your helmet cover - with a pom pom! - which then matches your saddle blanket, horse boots, headstall and an assortment of rugs?  You can even change that "shirt" for "silks".

Now, at HRCAV competitions we are still bound by our club colours, but once you hit EA, the world is your oyster as far as cross country colours are concerned.

I am not one to get the odd rug here, and the odd headstall there simply because they were on special.  I like all my gear to match, and to follow a consistent theme - for all my horses.  So I've been playing around with colour combinations for years!

When I did the Dream Team last year, we did an exercise where you close your eyes and imagine a situation, and then you identify sounds, smells, feels and colours with these situations.  I could identify sounds and smells, but they didn't seem that important to me.  Colour, on the other hand, was very important.  We went through various situations, and each time I associated a different colour.

Our Dream Team guide and guru strongly suggested that we should include the "right" colours in our riding attire - to calm us, inspire us, and give us our very best results.  Hmmm ... good idea.

I had narrowed down my colour combinations to about three.  Not three colours ... three different colour schemes.  Choosing between those seemed impossible.  Scheme one included light blue, navy and cream, and made me feel calm, peaceful and harmonious.  Scheme two included browns and beiges and a bit of black, was elegant and looked well on the horses.  Scheme three included navy, red and gold and left me motivated, inspired and full of life.

I gazed at the colours forever.  Why couldn't I have all three schemes, and dig them out when I felt like it?  I kept looking at one scheme, noting how it made me feel, then looking at the next scheme and comparing how my feelings changed.  What did I actually want to feel when I was at a competition?  What did I need at a competition to achieve my best?  I started wondering whether I needed a different colour scheme for home, and a different one for competing?

Sometimes, it's so much easier when the rules are just set down for you, as in Dressage and Showjumping.

In the end, the navy, red and gold scheme won.  At a competition, when you may have had a busy week preparing, an early morning to get there, you need to feel motivated, inspired and full of life!

I've already purchased the headstalls.  Now to slowly acquire a set of rugs.

My best year ever? (2013 wrap up)

Have I just had my best year ever?

In a nutshell - I went to 10 competitions, I had my first go at Intro, I got over issues with taking two horses to a competition, and I brought home some ribbons.  My daughter established herself as a worthy strapper and companion at competitions.

In addition to my horse riding outings I managed a week's family holiday and six family weekends away.  I also managed to take my daughter to 7 pony club rallies and one showjumping competition.  And let's not forget Tornado's visit at my daughter's birthday party, and her school!  Is there even that many weekends in a year?

But wait, that's not all.  We also had three different sets of family visitors from overseas.  They stayed either with my parents, or with my parents-in-law, but they were all here for an extended period of time, and while it was wonderful to see them and spend time with them, it did make schedules rather tight.

I also did some wonderful projects at work, and my health held up.

So, ok, it's definitely been a busy year.  But, success, is not measured by being busy.  Success is "the accomplishment of an aim or purpose".  Hmm.  It helps if the aim or purpose is easy to "measure".

My aim for the year was NOT "to be busy".  My equestrian goals were:

• compete successfully at Intro level on Dingo,
• get Lil upgraded to Level 4,
• get more professional at going to competitions,
• compete on two horses at the same competition,
• have more coaching sessions - with at least one lesson learnt per session,
• get my daughter walking and trotting independently on her pony.

The first goal has been a bit of a miss.  Yes, I did compete at Intro level on Dingo.  I competed three times, and I was eliminated on all occasions.  More about that another time.

All the other goals have been achieved.  In fact, the more I think about these goals, the more I realise that in some cases I have surpassed my wildest expectations.

Keep in mind, that life and all it's associated ups and downs got in the way many times - what with all those family visitors from overseas, a major car accident, health issues that almost made me quit my job, and family issues, stresses and disappointments.  When I look at the downs, the stops and the spills (yes, falls off my horse), 2013 is certainly a year I would rather forget.

When I look at the ups, the competitions that I attended, the ribbons I won, the scores that improved, the confidence I gained, the lessons I learnt, the way my riding has improved, the team that my daughter and I have become, then I feel that it has definitely been my best year so far.

Bring on 2014!

Keeping Score

So you complete a competition, you get your dressage sheet back, you get a placing of some sort, what do you do?  Throw it all in the bin?  File it all in a special folder titled "My journey to the Olympics: Part 1"?  Add a new dot point on a graph that forever marks the rise and rise of your horse?

Which one do you think I do?

Ok ok, stop laughing.  Yes I do put it in a folder, but not with the title above.  Each horse has it's own folder, and all Dressage tests, cross country course maps, and associated paperwork go in there.  I review the Dressage tests briefly, see what's worst (which means I need to work on it), see what's best (which means I need to keep working on it), and then it just gets filed away ... forever.

Well recently, the West Gippsland Equestrian Expo offered two places to be won in a Masterclass with Heath Ryan.  Of course, I jumped at the chance and applied.

I'll wait for you to stop laughing again.

One of the things the application form asked for was your Dressage results, placings, percentages, size of the competition, accomplishments, with a very strong implication that they expected to see some improvement in your results over time.

Well I was stumped, because I suddenly realised that I don't keep such detailed records of my horses' progress.  I get a general feel of how they are going, and whether they are ready to progress, if they have any particular weak points, or what they are good at.  I can feel when my training is slipping backwards.  I compare placings, more or less, but I don't track percentages from one Dressage test to the next!

I decided to enter Lil in the Masterclass competition, and so I dug out her results.  I am afraid that it became a rather sobering experience, as her scores map out a very clear roller coaster.  Somewhere between 56% and 60%.  Pretty much irrespective of the level.

As an Eventer, Dressage is only one of three disciplines that we practice.  So to see little improvement in a year is probably acceptable if you happen to be focusing on the other disciplines.  However, Dressage is the foundation, it is the key to better jumping, so it is very important.

I must say, that this has all inspired me to keep a better track of my competition results and I have designed a little spreadsheet to help me track it.  It includes a little graph to keep track of my Dressage scores.

The other thing the application asked for was a photo of you on your horse - fair enough - and a 30 second video, no more than 2M in size, of you and your horse doing walk, trot and canter.

I'm still laughing about that one myself.