Dingo's lesson with Ron

Dingo is a little 13.2hh chestnut pony.  He is reasonably stocky, and hence my 169cm frame looks surprisingly fitting on him - until you see how far my legs hang down.  Over the years I have had numerous judges come up to me and ask me about his exact height, while they marvelled how "good" I looked on him (meaning - I didn't look too big).

Nevertheless, his potential as either a serious dressage, or showjumping, or eventing horse appears rather limiting at first sight.  And it might well be limiting.  That's not the point.  Dingo, while he has no buck or pigroot or rear in him, is quite a tricky little pony to ride, and he is here to teach me lessons.  I don't say that lightly.  When I was at a spiritual retreat (following my cancer diagnosis) I had a vision of training a chestnut pony with a blaze and a white sock.  Six months later, Dingo came into my life.  It's not a coincidence.

However, when I bring Dingo into a lesson with a new instructor, I get this very strong feeling that the instructor thinks "Really?  Come on, bring your real horse." or "Why are you riding such a small pony?".  The instructor goes ahead with the lesson, but I really get the feeling that there is not much they can do with Dingo.  He is tricky.  The contrast is when I bring Lil for a lesson with the same instructor - the instructor appears to take the lesson much more seriously, and teaches me in a manner that is aimed to get me somewhere.  (I will add that some instructors have really put in a great effort trying to teach me on Dingo, but that feeling that he is not my real horse always remains.)

Having been jaded many times in this way, I was scared to bring Dingo to a Ron Patterson lesson.  I take Ron very seriously, and I didn't want him to think that I was an idiot by bringing Dingo to a lesson.  My intuition was screaming at me to take Dingo to Ron for years, but my fear of what Ron might think held me back.  Read that again ... my fear of what someone else might think prevented me from following my intuition.  Stupid!

Finally, I bit the bullet though and took Dingo to a lesson with Ron.  I figured that I have had enough lessons with Ron now, that even if I did bring Dingo to a lesson, Ron would see the value of learning on yet another horse.  Plus, to be honest, I was at wicks end with Dingo.  I *know* that he is a brilliant pony, but my recent dressage and showjumping results leave a lot to be desired.

I rode into the lesson immediately clarifying my position - "Hi Ron, this is Dingo, I know he is small, but he really is very capable.  But he is tricky, and I need your help to figure him out."  Ron looked at him and didn't bat an eyelid - "Ah, a little pocket rocket?  Ok, walk on."

Ron straight away treated Dingo like any other horse - no matter his size or potential.  And within 10 minutes I had Dingo going like a regular dressage pony, with rhythm and relaxation matching that of Echo.  I got the most marvellous canters - on a long rein!!!  But there was an even better edge to this.  Ron suddenly got to see how much I had retained from all my lessons - that everything Ron had taught me was now becoming a habit.  That I have a "Ron toolbox" in my riding skillset and that I am immediately able to transfer it from horse to horse.  Ron suddenly saw that I have actually learnt something from him - and for an instructor, that is one of the most inspiring things in a student.  Win-win!

In the Cross Country start box - "Good Luck"

Riding cross country in a horse trials event is serious business.  Even at the lower grades. The obstacles are solid with a capital S, the ground can be slippery, and the horse has a thousand things to spook at, starting with the jumps judges.  Every rider about to go out on cross country gets some level of nerves, and rightfully so.  A history of events prove that sheer luck might play an important part in a successful completion of this exciting phase.

So, when the starter counts down each competitor, his final words are "3, 2, 1, Go! Good luck!"

At this point, I always thought that there exists a certain understanding between horse and rider.  A partnership based on mutual trust, developed over months and years of training together.  You (the horse) take care of me, and I (the rider) will take care of you.  I have seen countless situations where this is so true, where the horse loses balance and a steadying rein from the rider helps the horse to recover before the next jump.  Situations where the rider loses balance on the first obstacle in a combination, and the horse completes the combination perfectly despite flapping reins and a lack of direction from the rider.

I long for that sort of partnership, that sort of understanding, that sort of trust with my horse.  But recently, I have decided that between myself and Dingo it's not necessarily so.

When that starter says "Good Luck", Dingo grows little devil ears, he rubs his little hooves together, his spirit does a little mini rear of defiance, and the pony whispers "Yeah Mummy ... Good luck, ha ha ha!" as he gallops wildly off towards the first jump with no regard for the feeling on the reins.

Well, for years I have lived in my little world of believing in trust and understanding, while Dingo was rubbing his little hooves together and zooming off on every occasion.  But, recently, I've finally wisened up.  I've realised that our partnership has to be based more on mutual boisterousness, than mutual love.  A kind of respect for each others physical strength and mental power.

So now, our starting line conversation goes something like this:
Starter: "3, 2, 1, Go!  Good luck!"
Dingo: "Yeah Mummy ... Good luck, ha ha ha!"
Me: "Yeah Dingo ... Good luck."  (Followed by a solid check on the reins.)

Westcoast ARC Horse Trials 2016

Dingo's last competition was two years ago when I got eliminated on him during the Dunolly Horse Trails cross country for jumping a grade 3 jump.  Then I got eliminated again in the showjumping when I fell off before the double.  At the time, I decided it wasn't really working and relegated Dingo to trail riding duties.

However, a sequence of events - Lil getting stringhalt, Echo getting an abscess - put Dingo back in work, and back on the critical path for another crack at horse trials.  So we ended up in Elcho Park, warming up for the dressage phase of the Westcoast ARC Horse Trials.

The judge was running late, and the dressage went to pieces.  Dingo was overbent, flicking his tongue over the bit, and freaking out at the weeds surrounding the arena.  Really Dingo?

Since the dressage judge was running late, we were running late for our showjumping round.  Already coming back from gear check Dingo felt tired.  He jumped well in the warm-up - very well in fact.  The warm-up was on grass with a sandy soil base.  The competition ring was sand.  The minute he put hoof in that sand arena, things didn't feel right - he felt out of control.  I put on the breaks.  We got two refusals at jump one, clear over two, then a refusal at jump three and that was the end of our round.

I left the showjumping ring gutted, and did a few more warm-up jumps to mull it over.  He jumped very well.  Damn that sand.

I gave Dingo a well earned rest and some lunch, and I mulled over the situation some more.  Technically I was eliminated, but could still ride the cross country if I wanted to.  Did I want to?  Should I?  My reflection process was long and boring, but in the end I decided to ride cross country.

After a quick warm-up (which was on sand, and Dingo jumped the warm-up jumps well), we were in the start box, and the starter was saying: "3, 2, 1, go!  Good luck!".  And Dingo responded "Yeah Mummy ... Good luck in trying to hold me back!  Ha ha ha!".  And I gritted my teeth with "Yeah Dingo ... Good luck in trying to get away from me!".  And we were off.  Dingo was off.  Holding him back was tricky ... almost impossible.

Jump three was out of control and we were barrelling through the middle of the course when I caught sight of jump four on my left.  We doubled back.  I had to almost stop him to do that switch back to four.  But I did it the right way - I kept his head up.  I didn't let his chin go to his chest.  Over four, and then we got this amazing bouncy canter - forward, yet on his hocks.  I felt I could jump over the moon from that canter.  And from then on, all the other jumps became mere obstacles.  It was no longer a question of whether he will jump them, it was only a question how fast I will allow him to jump, and how elegant I can make it look.  There was no longer a question of control, there was only a question of using my reins and my heels to communicate with him.  It was amazing.  I have never ridden this pony so fast over cross country and yet felt so much in control, felt so sure he would jump everything, felt so in awe of how much power was propelling him forward.  I could now see that this pony easily had more scope.  It was incredible.

In the end, the result - me being eliminated - was immaterial.  I was the real winner.  That cross country ride just changed the way I jump - for ever.  That cross country ride made me realise that the next rung of my horse riding journey was within reach.  That cross country ride was like a thousand clinics rolled into one.

I jumped off my tired pony - and I have never ever seen Dingo that tired - and jumped up and down with joy!

To coach or not to coach

My equestrian life (and in fact my whole life) is driven by one big major equestrian goal.  It's to do with Eventing.  At a high level.  A very high level.  (There's more detail to it, but I'm not quite willing to share that with the world just yet.) Everything I do I try to align towards that goal.

For a while now, I have been asking the question "to get to my goal, do I need to coach?"  Do I need to teach other riders?  Will that get me towards my goal?  Or will it be something that distracts me from my own riding journey?  Am I better off just focusing on my riding, my competing, my lessons?  Or will coaching other riders give me more flexibility?  Will it teach me something that lessons on my own horse cannot?  Will it equip me better to compete?  Will it give me another perspective?  An extra dimension?

Well, the answer came rather unexpectedly, and rather like a steam train.

One beautiful sunny day last year, we had organised two instructors to teach at a pony club rally.  One was our usual instructor, and the other was a well respected dressage instructor.  On the day our usual instructor rang in sick, while it turns out that there had a been a communication error with the other instructor and she actually wasn't coming.

So there we were, a beautiful day, eight kids mounted on ponies, and no one to teach them.  I mulled over the issue in my mind.  We must give these kids an instructor.  No one was taking a step forward.  There was no backup plan for this situation.  I wondered how the insurance side of it worked.  I wondered about this and that, and in the end I suggested that if everyone is happy, then I will teach the kids.  There was a resounding "YES PLEASE!" from all the parents.

Gulp.

Eight kids from total beginner and wavering between on the lead/off the lead, to 14-year olds, capable of jumping grade 3, and everything in between.  Talk about being thrown in at the deep end.  Well, as they say "throw me to the wolves, and I will come back leading the pack".  And that is exactly what happened!  (Not that our kids are like "wolves", but you get the drift.)

We started off with flatwork.  I ran the kids through a set of exercises that I do myself to establish a correct position on the pony, and to establish that the pony is travelling correctly.  Within two strides the ponies all improved, relaxed and moved better.  Within two strides!!!  My jaw dropped!  Then we did some other work that was basic enough for the beginners, but still beneficial for the intermediate and advanced riders.

In the second session we did poles and jumping.  Well, at the start of this class two were keen to jump, and the remainder were only going to do poles on the ground.  By the end of the session everyone bar two riders (one was a youngster and a beginner, the other was on an elderly pony that shouldn't jump) was jumping.  Everyone!  In fact, as the jumps went up, I had to step in and tell some riders to stop jumping because it was getting too high for them.

Then lunch.

After lunch we played some games.  It was just a fun relaxing session.  Oh, but so many smiles.  So much team work.  Such great friendship.

All the kids had a really good time that rally.  All the parents were very happy, because they could see amazing improvements in the way the kids were riding.  But most important of all, I had a really good time!  It was kind of like being at a party and doing lots of talking and having lots of fun.  I just loved it.

I think my question has been answered.

Coaching Styles

I get coached by a range of people and what I have noticed is that different coaches have different styles.

A very common style of coaching is the "shaping" style, where the coach asks you to do something, and then as you are doing it, they constantly comment and correct you - in a sense "shaping" you as you go.

The other style is the "passive" style. This is where the coach sets a certain exercise and they allow you to do it without adding much comment (unless things are going drastically wrong). Once you have done the exercise the coach gives you a debrief, and then you might repeat the exercise applying the lessons you have learnt.

Both styles have their pros and cons, and some people find one style suits them more than the other. The two coaching styles are also not set in stone, but are more like a sliding scale, with the "shaping-only" coach at one end, and the "passive-only" coach at the other end. But, most coaches will sit somewhere between the two extremes and provide their own balance of the two styles.

Shaping Style - Pros

The pros of the shaping coaching style is that you get immediate feedback about what you are doing wrong. You are forced to correct it right there and then, and therefore the way your horse is moving should be immediately affected, hopefully giving you a better experience. If you can then remember what that felt like, you will search for this "better" feeling when riding on your own.

The shaping style also gives you a quicker sense of achievement. The horse can sometimes improve in a few strides, and you feel like you are really getting good value out of your lesson.

Your coach can sometimes get you to achieve movements that you thought were beyond you, and thus work outside of your comfort zone more - which, of course, is where the "magic" happens.

Shaping Syle - Cons

In the shaping style the coach does a lot of talking while you are riding and modifies the way you ride while you are riding, and this means that unless you remember what you were doing wrong in the first place, and what the coach said to correct it, you will not actually be able to replicate it at home. So you will need to come back for another lesson in order to get the same quality of work. Eventually, the way the coach shapes you will become a habit, and you will do it automatically, but a lot of lessons will go under the bridge before that happens. So, it can be expensive in the long run.

Even when your riding improves, you may not actually understand what you did to improve it. So when you get another horse, or if you are intending to be a coach yourself, you may get stuck with certain problems and not know what to do to solve them.

When you are riding in a competition, your coach is not there to shape you. So this sort of coaching does not provide you with good preparation for competing.

In the shaping style, while the coach may have a certain plan for your lesson, you often do not see this plan because you are too busy taking in all the shaping comments. So when it comes to riding at home, you don't really build a plan for your own riding sessions.

Passive Style - Pros

The pros of the passive coaching style is that you are given an exercise, and while you are doing that exercise you are left on your own to actually think about what you are doing. You have time to notice your own mistakes. Because you notice your own mistakes, you can ask the coach how to fix them. Then when you actually ride at home, without the coach, you are better equipped to apply your learnings. This means you can spend more time practicing between lessons, which means less lessons and therefore cheaper.

If you don't notice your own mistakes, the coach will. The coach will notice a 1000 things going wrong, but they will make an assessment of two or three that need to be fixed first. They will communicate this to you after the exercise, and tell you what you were doing wrong, and how to fix it. Once again, this equips you better for training at home without the coach.

The passive style of coaching is much more similar to a competition when you have to ride a dressage test or a showjumping round. So mentally, you are getting much better competition training - you have to learn to remember the exercise. You have to think while you're doing the exercise. And you have to take your own steps to assess where things are at, and what you need to do to improve it, while you're riding.

The "plan" for the lesson is usually obvious as you progress from one exercise to the next. You do each exercise in each direction. So when it comes to training at home, it is easier to repeat a similar plan.

In the passive style of coaching, the coach will discuss your riding issues with you and suggest improvements generally while you're standing still and can really pay attention. This means that when you get another horse, or if you are intending to teach, you are much better equipped to know what are the common riding problems and how to fix them.

Passive Style - Cons

The passive style requires you think for yourself a lot more, so people who prefer someone else to do the thinking for them will feel like they are not getting good value for money.

This style requires you to be a disciplined rider who will take away the exercises and the learnings from the lesson, and then practice them at home till they become a habit.

A passive style lesson can give you a feeling that you haven't achieved much. This is because the coach can only focus on three or four of your mistakes at a time.

Coaching Styles - other notes

The shaping style can be pretty intense as the coach does a lot of talking. For some people this will feel like a lot is happening in their lesson, and so they will be happy that they are getting their money's worth. For people who are looking to relax with their horse, the shaping style of coaching may prove to be too much like hard work.

The passive style can be pretty calm and relaxed. Some people will find this a great form of therapy, while others will feel like they are not getting anywhere.

These are neither pros nor cons, as they depend on the type of rider.

Coaching Styles - Summary

A really good coach will use a combination of the two styles so that the rider can feel immediate improvements (shaping style), but still learn to think and work on their own (passive style).

Most coaches probably lean towards one end of the scale - either shaping, or passive. It's not necessarily a conscious decision, but more to do with their character.

Riders need to look for a coaching style that suits them, depending on their own character as well as their goals. It's not so much about what a given coach knows, or what level they ride at, but more about the rider being able to learn, progress and get their desired results. So just because your friend is getting amazing results with a certain coach doesn't mean you will. But, it's certainly worth trying the friend's coach to see if their coaching style suits you.