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.

How I discovered "Throughness"

"Throughness" is something that is discussed in various Dressage articles, alongside the German training scale.  I'd heard the word many times, but never truly grasped it's meaning.

The other day I went to a clinic.  We were trotting along, just warming up our horses.  The coach looked at my lower leg and said "Your lower leg is moving, you're not balanced."  The coach pointed to another rider in the class "Look at her lower leg, it's not moving because she is balanced."  I looked at the other rider and sure enough, her lower leg was sitting as still as a wooden board in a door.

Then I looked down at my inside leg - yes it was moving.  Not a lot, but it was moving a bit.  Damn.  Then I looked at my outside leg - it was moving, but only a little bit.  "Winner, I thought, when we change rein the coach will see that I'm balanced".  But then we changed rein, and once again, my inside leg is moving, and my outside one is pretty much still.  Damn.  The coach never gets to see the outside leg.

I didn't argue with the coach at the time, but my intuition was screaming at me that after 30+ years of riding how can I possibly not be balanced in the trot.  I'm not the most talented rider, but I'm not the least talented either.

Over the next few rides I payed close attention to the movements of my lower leg.  One time, I was riding Dingo, and we were galloping up a track in the state forest.  I looked at my lower leg - dead still.  Still in the gallop, I inspected my lower leg more closely - definitely dead still.

The pony was powering along like a little red steam train, but eventually he slowed down to a trot.  A powerful trot.  A ground covering trot.  A trot with forward and purpose.  I looked at my leg - it was still.  I was jubilant.  I *knew* that I was balanced!!!

I rode on.

In that case, if I am balanced in the trot, then why was my leg moving while trotting Echo in the clinic.  I looked up and ahead of me and felt Dingo's trot.  I held my hands just above the wither, thumbs on top.  And I rode that trot, rising to every second beat.  I barely had to make an effort.  Dingo felt like a powerful engine, that was about to go "through" me, but he never actually did.  That "through" feeling was there with every stride.  And then the penny dropped ... that is why it's called "throughness".  Wow!

Did Echo feel like that in the clinic?  No.  Echo had felt like a flat tyre in the clinic.  Echo felt like I had to give him a little nudge every stride just to keep him going.  There was none of the energy, none of the forwardness, none of the engine.  No so called "throughness".

Horse Training: Long and Low

Recently I went to a clinic with David Middleton.  Now, I have known David since he was a wee tacker playing cushion polo on Rampage.  Despite this, and maybe because of it, I don't think I've ever had a lesson with David.

In the clinic David made two things very clear - Dressage starts with the long rein walk.  I've always wondered where Dressage starts.  The simplest of Dressage tests already contain a large number of movements.  But which one should you train first.  The long rein walk, apparently.

The other thing that David made very clear, is how to train the long rein walk.  You ask the horse to walk.  To maintain contact.  You ask the horse to come onto the bit by flexing the inside rein, and then, when you feel the horse's mouth, you release the reins and see how low the horse will go before you lose contact.

Practice this a few times - say five or six - and your horse will start getting the idea that he can actually stretch forwards and down.  You want to be careful that you don't lose the roundness - they should remain "on the bit".  They also need to remain in an active walk.  But, beyond that, the ground is the limit.  Presto, that simple.

Once you have mastered this in walk, then try it in trot.  Then canter.  It is so hideously simple, yet it forms the foundation of all of your horse training.  When your horse can stretch down and forwards, yet remain round and forwards, then he will also be able to, one day, collect.

Temperament

When we bought Morgan he appeared to be a totally chilled out character.  My daughter could catch him in the paddock, bring him in and groom him.  All 16hh of him.  But it took me about 3 months of schooling at home to take him to a lesson, and even then, I don't think he was really ready.


When we arrived at my instructor's place he was suddenly rather distracted, and difficult to handle.  Where had the quiet horse gone?  There were some horses in a paddock next door and he was really keen to join them.


I lunged him in the arena first, but he kept being distracted.  I should have probably kept lungeing him until he finally paid attention, but my instructor had arrived and we needed to get on with it.  At the end of the day - I don't have all day.


He was still distracted when I saddled him up and when I mounted.  As I was mounting, the school bus was coming past, a mere 5 metres away or so.  But, if Morgan had a different temperament, he would have been happy to trust me and pay attention to me.  Instead, he bucked until I fell off, hitting the barbed wire fence on the way.  I was ok, but it wasn't pretty.


In comparison, Echo had been schooled by his previous owners for about 4 months when I bought him.  He had only been on their property, and trail riding in the bush.  He was with us for a mere 2 weeks when I decided to take him for a lesson.  Having learnt from the Morgan experience, I was savvy enough to take Echo together with my pony, Dingo.  I needn't have bothered, he would have been fine regardless.


Once again, the same paddock with horses.  Yes, Echo looked at them, he even neighed to them, but he also quite happily stayed tied to the fence.  The same road along the arena, with buses, utes with trailers, cars and even a couple of motorbikes.  It was all fine.  His biggest problem was with the Fresian cow in a paddock - a mere speck in the haze.


Echo's biggest issue was probably me paying attention to Dingo.  The minute I started paying attention to Echo he stopped his neighing and stood totally still.  Likewise when I mounted.  And momentarily ... likewise during the lesson.


I had a wonderful lesson and learnt heaps.  It definitely wasn't a matter of just staying on and hankering for control.  I can't wait to practice it all at home, and then come back for more lessons.  I can't wait to take him out to adult riding club and to competitions.  This horse will go such a long way - not because he is a super star, not because he looks magnificent, but because he has a good temperament.

Leg Aids

I waltzed into my dressage lesson on Echo and my instructor immediately said "Stop!  We've got to fix those legs of yours."  Really?  What is wrong with my legs?  I've got my heel down, my heels are in line with my hip, and I feel super secure.  What's there to fix?


Well...


"Your toes are turned out, and the back of your calf is on.  I want you to turn your toe in so that it is pointing to the front, your foot is parallel with your horse, and if you need to use your calf, you use the inside part of your calf."  Ok.


No, not ok, my horse is not responding to my inner calf.


"Aha ... remember your horse can feel a fly sit on him.  So your horse is not responsive enough.  Use your whip until your horse learns to respond to the feel of your inner calf."  And here, ladies and gentlemen, is the solution to about 80% of all your riding problems.


When the horse doesn't respond to the "feel of the inner calf" us riders resort to using the back of our calf.  Then we draw up our heel and use our heel.  When that doesn't work well enough we resort to using our hands to compensate.  Yes!  Using our hands.  Except that this actually tucks the horse's head in, and puts him on the forehand.  Then, some horses pigroot and we complain.  Or get scared.  Or both.


What really came home to me during this lesson is that we don't ride with our hands.  Our hands just mostly sit there.  Allow me to rephrase that.  The rider's hands are held upright, as though they are holding one glass of champagne each, slightly in front of the pommel of the saddle.  That is pretty much all.


It is the legs - and the lightest touch of the inner calf - that drive the horse forwards and sideways.

Lil's lesson with Ron

Windsor Farm organised Ron Patterson to come out for a couple of days, and I grabbed the opportunity to have a Dressage lesson on Lil.

I walked into the arena, and from the time that he shook my hand I knew we were going to get on like a house on fire.

There were a few things that stood out about Ron.  Firstly, he was prepared.  All sorts of poles and blocks were lying on the ground, setting out a multitude of different exercises.  Secondly, he explained the training scale he works with - not in so much detail that you start yawning - and pointed out where on that scale we were.  Finally, he made it clear what the rider's body needs to do.

What I really liked is the exercises.  We were never on the track.  We were never on a 20m circle at A, we were never doing a serpentine, or a change across the long diagonal.  It made me realise just how boring and limited my daily training is!

He had us doing straight lines, and gentle curves, he had as circling around a pole, and between poles, he had us changing rein from one pole to the next, or from one block to the next.  It kept our minds very active.

Ron had a great focus on the rider's position.  He was mindful that you were able to move bits of your body independently.  He wanted you to be as skillful on the left as you were on the right.  And, best of all, when your horse wasn't travelling well, he would ask you to shift your body in some way, and all of a sudden, presto, there was a lot more fluidity in your horse's movement.

He was the first Dressage instructor to tell me to lean forward - and this was probably my favourite "take away" from the lesson.  At the time, Lil was trotting very slowly.  I was pushing with the leg, but it felt like getting blood from a stone.  Then Ron said "lean forward".  Catiously, I leant forward a hair.  "Lean forward", called Ron.  I leant forward another little bit.  "Really lean forward", called Ron.  Ok, I leant forward, pretty much going into forward seat.  Lil surged forward with alactrity.  "See, you'd got behind the horse, and you felt very heavy to her.  Now you're over her centre of gravity, and she can go forward again.  Good", commented Ron.  Wow.  "Ah-ha" moment.  It's not so much about getting your shoulders forward, but getting your seat forward in the saddle.  Ron calls it "sitting on the edge of your seat".  Nice.

I just loved the lesson, and felt very happy with my horse's progress, I felt I had learnt a lot, and best of all, I felt I could go home and I knew what to practice.  I can't wait for Ron to come back again.

Cross Country lesson at Windsor Park

Recently I took Dingo to a cross country lesson with Ebony Tucker at Windsor Park.

It's a wonderful day, slightly overcast, with a cool-ish breeze.  Perfect for cross country schooling.  We head out to the back paddock where the cross country course is, and I start an extensive monologue on where we are at, how we got there, where we are heading.

The first thing I notice about Ebony is that she listens.  She is genuinely interested in what I think my problems are, and she takes my goals seriously.  Then she gets me to do some trot and canter to warm up.  Before I have the chance to complete one circle Ebony has linked what I said, with what is happening on the ground, and pulls me up.

"Ok, he tends to rush.  Every time he rushes off like that, I want you to make a downward transition of some sort", she instructs.  I go off in trot on my circle again, keeping what she said in mind.  "Ok, he rushed off there, make a transition!", calls out Ebony.  Ooops.  I suddenly realise that I am quite unaware when my pony rushes off.  I only notice it when he has rushed off for perhaps the fourth time in a row, and suddenly we're in canter.  Big "Aha" moment.

So we work on not allowing Dingo to rush off, and lo and behold, in about five minutes, we have him working beautifully on a nice relaxed contact and an even tempo.

We do this in both trot and canter, then ask the pony to go over a tiny log.  The rushing returns with a vengence.  We work with half halts in the approach to the log and succeed in the jump becoming nice and relaxed.  Then we move onto a bigger jump - like a picnic table made out of logs.  You guessed it, more rushing.

Here, Ebony takes a stance about two strides away from the jump, and says "I want you to approach in trot, then stop here."  The first try is a total failure.  We stop right at the jump!  This is so not what I wanted.  Ebony remains calm.  "Don't let him turn away.  Just stand there.  Back him up.  Now trot on and jump it."  Gulp.  I follow the instructions, and Dingo jumps.  Phew!  We do this a few times, a fair few times, and it becomes quite good, although not perfect.

Then we move onto water, banks, other logs, you name it.  At every jump Ebony stresses the importance of Dingo not rushing.  She gets me to do things at walk, then at trot, then at canter.  She stresses the importance of me not getting ahead, not getting anxious.  As we do the exercises, my confidence grows, I relax, Dingo slows down, it all starts to flow.  Dingo becomes a totally maneuverable pony, and I am having an absolute ball.  Oh this is what it should feel like!

I depart a very happy camper, and can't wait to come back again.  I guess spending money on rugs and other sundry items will just have to wait!

Dressage lesson

I have planned a dressage lesson for Dingo for the last three months.  And this month is coming to an end, and I still haven't had this planned lesson.  So I have finally put my foot down and rang my instructor and finally had the lesson.

Organising a dressage lesson at the moment is no simple task.  My arenas are out of action.  My instructor has an arena, but her parking area is out of action.  The pony club has an arena, but I don't have a key ... yet.  The other pony club is currently closed to the public.  Fortunately, there is a third pony club, and we were able to use their arena.  Phew.

Since the last dressage lesson, which was in April, I have diligently been practicing the rider balancing exercises, and I've been making outstanding progress.  Even if I do say so myself.  I thought I had mastered this position thing.

My instructor took one look at my progress, and without another word, proceeded to fix the next part of my position.  Yes, there is more.  When I quizzed her about it, she smiled and said that once I master the current exercises, then there is more still!

As she corrected my position, verbally prodding here, there and everywhere, Dingo relaxed, lowered his head, and added some spring to his stride.  The improvement was just amazing.  I can fully appreciate that a horse is able to work better for a more balanced rider, but the amount of difference these minute adjustments made was just remarkable.

My instructor did point out though that, as I have already noticed, Dingo is a sensitive horse, and such minute changes will feel really important to him.

Prior to having the lesson, I was agonising whether to invest in the dressage lesson, or in a cross country training session.  I only had the time and money to do one.  In this particular case, the dressage lesson was definitely the right choice, and it will in fact improve my cross country more than a cross country session would have.

Hazelwood Clinic

Today I am at Hazelwood Lodge again for a clinic.  It's actually a two day clinic, but, because of Pony Club tomorrow, I am only here for one day.  Such a pity.  I'd love to stay for two.

The weather leaves a lot to be desired.  Sheets of rain have been coming down all night and morning.  It's not inspiring.  However, we seem to get a slight break just as my lesson starts.

Within minutes, Catherine has my horse going much better than I have her going at home.  It's all about using the correct aids, at the right time.  It's also all about balance.  Apparently, we need to help the horse to balance themselves.  We need to teach them to find the right balance.  Really?!!  I've always thought that horses will find their own balance.  Apparently, not so.

Towards the end of the lesson, the rain starts coming down again.  I briefly consider getting my rain coat.  But my horse is now going so well, and I am so engaged in the lesson, that I just do not care if I get saturated.  We work a bit on canter transitions, and just a couple of brief words from Catherine help me to improve out of sight.  It's just awesome.

Lunch is delicious, as always.  Then time for my jumping lesson.

I warm up my horse.  She seems somewhat distracted initially, what with the pinto grazing on one side, the cows on the other, and the foal frolicking carelessly in the paddock.  But even while distracted, her work is much improved.

We go over some trot poles, then Catherine sets up a cross rail.  It's not a big cross rail, but I'm having kittens all the same.  Why?  Because Lil will either go left, or go right, or do a huge leap over it, and I just don't know which one it will be.  It's the huge leap, and I jab her in the mouth.  So of course, next time around she tries to go right.  I get her over it, this time I don't jab her in the mouth, and from then on we just gain confidence.

The grid increases in difficulty, and Lil just grows more confident, more balanced, and more focussed with every jump.  The progress is fantastic.  Catherine's advice is invaluable - she is so clear about just how much I need to do as a rider, and how much the horse needs to work out for themselves.

I've now got lots to work on at home, before I return here in December.

I just wanted to add, that during the breaks I watch other lessons intently.  What amazes me every time, is how much the horses improve for each rider, within each lesson.

Showjumping clinic

I took Dingo to a showjumping clinic today.  It was supposed to be a cross country clinic, but either due to lack of interest, or wetness of the cross country course, it ended up being a showjumping clinic.  Never mind.  If the pony is to compete, then any clinic is a good clinic.

Well we arrived without any issues, I saddled up and then I looked at our arena.  It was indoors.  Dingo had never been in an indoor before.  (Well, he actually had.  Back in February when I took him to a dressage day.  But we only did a short warm up in there.)  He took it all in his stride, though.

The instructor made some interesting points in the lesson.  Some to which I nodded wisely, and some which were quite new. 

Firstly - confidence is everything.

Secondly - if you feel things are not going right, and you do nothing, then your worst fears will come true.  Do something.  As long as you do something, chances are you will change the situation for better.  But, never, ever, do nothing.

Thirdly (and this was the new one to me, and my favourite) - do not jump from a standstill.  If your horse stops at a jump then show your displeasure, then take him around again and make him do it from canter, and make him jump it.  In fact, the coach went as far as saying that you don't jump from a trot either.  Nor from a walk.  The reasoning being that in a competition you will be jumping from a canter, so train your horse to jump from the canter always.  If they sometimes stop, then you will never know whether they will stop or whether they will jump, and so you can't be confident.  See first point.

Fourthly - if something goes wrong, then it's your horse's fault.  But you have to correct it.  Which might not look pretty.  When you've finished your jumping round, you might want realise that it was actually your fault, and you might want to apologise to your horse.  But while you're jumping - it's your horse's fault.

We jumped a warmup jump.  Then we did a little course - a mixture of grade 5 and 4.  Then he added a second part of the course at grade 3.  Dingo did the first part of the course, and we had fun doing it.  He did a great job of it.

I skipped the grade 3 part though.  I have every confidence that Dingo can do the height.  But to me, he just wasn't travelling well enough on the day.  And I kept thinking that if he jumps funny, then there is just not enough neck to land on.

It took me all afternoon to work out that what I should have done is sat back more, and looked up more and treated the upcoming grade 3 jump as though it was a grade 1 jump.  Next time.

The instructor was really happy with Dingo and with my riding.  He really thought I should have done the second part of the course.

Clinic - Day 2

This morning we're up early and riding by 8am. Dressage is first, and Lilly and I find a good rhythm. When I ask for canter, Lilly rushes into it, just like she did yesterday. "That was terrible!", shouts Catherine in a friendly voice. But she means what she says. "But ... but ... that was just fine yesterday", I stammer. "Yeah, but I didn't know you then, or how you ride", comes the reply. "Oh", I sigh. The bar has been raised. I try again, and the transition is indeed much better.

In this lesson we also do some leg yielding. At home, I've had a few problems with leg yielding. Here, it's much smoother. Something to do with Lilly actually using her top line and being able to do it. Feels great.

After the dressage lesson I get a breather, and then we ride again at 11am. Jumping.

The other girl in my lesson and I do our own warm up. Catherine is watching, but doesn't comment unnecessarily. This is great, because it alows you to think for yourself - just like you would have to do at home. The canters (and their transitions) are improving out of sight. I am very happy.

Then Catherine just builds on yesterday. That's right. No trot poles, no canter poles, just straight over the grid. And this works really really well. Then she adds another obstacle at the front of the grid. We go around, and the heights go up. By the end we're jumping about 2'.

Lilly starts to get tired. She knocks down one of the jumps entirely. Then she starts refusing. I grab a little crop, and Lilly has a bit of a tantrum. Compared to what Princess and Gally could dish out, this is nothing. Finally I get her over the jumps (now lowered a bit) a couple of times, and we call it a day. She is lathered up everywhere - even behind the ears.

I feel tired, but really really happy. The progress we have made is just fantastic, and in addition I walk away with just the right amount of tips, and things to practice. I simply cannot wait to come back for another clinic. I cannot wait to bring Sabina here too!

Hazelwood Lodge

It's one of those cold mornings, with the classic colourful Australian sunrise and frost on the ground. In fact, it's the most frost I have ever seen at the farm. But, no time for photos, as I'm off to Hazelwood Lodge for a two day clinic with Catherine Martindale.

The drive is made a little bit tricky by heavy fog, but I arrive without a hitch. I unload Lilly and put her in a yard, then I take in the place. It's only 9am in the morning, but the place is ... well ... busy.

Stables are being cleaned out, yards are already full of horses. Some are being saddled. There are three riders just starting a lesson. A lady in a purplish-pink jacket walks up to me "Hi, I'm Catherine", she smiles. I like her straight away.

I saddle up and start my lesson. Within seconds, Catherine is at my side explaining things. "Ok, you want to have her head just here", she takes the bit, and gently asks Lilly to drop her head. "When you're working at home, you want the ears level with the wither. You want to see this muscle here. That's their top line."

Lilly relaxes and travels happily forward. Of course, this is a new place, so she keeps getting distracted a bit by the goings on. But Catherine has made things so clear to me, that regaining the right frame seems childs play. I feel like jumping off and giving her a big hug!

When it comes time to canter, Lilly rushes into it, but we manage to maintain a 20m circle. This is great progress for a horse that believed you can only canter in straight lines a mere two weeks ago. We even manage a few relaxed strides.

I am actually in a group lesson - there are three of us. However, Catherine gives me one-on-one attention, then sends me off to practice. But, she's got eyes in the back of her head. Even though I'm at the other end of the arena, when I really do something wrong, I hear her shrill voice correcting me.

After lunch I have a jumping lesson. "So, how much jumping has she done?", asks Catherine. "Well, only trot poles really", I reply. Catherine sets up some trot poles and we go over. Then she converts them into canter poles, and we canter over them. Lilly is caught a little bit by surprise, but she adjusts pretty quickly.

Then Catherine sets up a grid. Just a simple one at the start - some trot poles and then a cross rail. Lilly trots over the lot. The grid changes to cross rail, one stride with a pole, cross rail. Lilly trots into it, then takes the remainder at canter. That's the whole idea. The grid is forcing her to jump. Very soon, the second obstacle becomes a straight bar. The progress is so smooth and simple that once again I feel like jumping off and giving Catherine a huge bear hug.

After the lesson, I have the chance to watch others ride. Women of all sorts of shapes, sizes, ages, and aspirations are here. And Catherine is equally attentive to all of them. Her confident, but relaxed style, with the odd joke thrown in for good measure, creates a fantastic atmosphere.

Cross Country Training

I meet Jen and Kris at Drouin pony club, we saddle up and do a quiet warm up.

"I want you to shorten your stirrups", says Jen.
"I've already shortened them 3 holes", I respond.
"I want you to shorten them another 4", says Jen.
"4?!", I gasp.
"Ok, try 2 for size", Jen smiles, "But long term, honestly, aim for 4."

Kris is in the background nodding her head in encouragement, making it sound like it's a really good idea. I do as told, and go for a test walk, trot and canter. Wow! Feels great!

Then we do the first jump, a little log. Gally's approach is good, but then he ends up 4 metres right of log, having made no jump in the process.

"Take him right back to the log, make him do it, and next time, don't let him run out", says Jen.

The shying seems to be a common theme as both horses shy, and stop. There is a good excuse, if you're looking for one. The grass has been mowed, but tufts of it still grow freely at the base of all the jumps. This does look scary and confusing. Both. But as a rider, you've got to stop making excuses for your horse, show some strong leadership, and get him to jump.

This is actually quite hard as 1000 scenarios race through your mind. Horse might stop, cat leap, take it long, short or high. And the only answer is confidence and leadership. Imagine you were the alpha horse, and you were trying to drive another horse over the jump. What would you do? You would bite his backside until he did what you wanted. Enough said.

There's no water in the water jump, yet Gally has a problem with it. It takes a fair bit of driving to get him into it, but once he's done it once he is just fine with it.

We test out the bank. It's made of tyres, well filled with soil, but nevertheless a bit soft at the edges, and not my favourite. The drop causes Gally some consternation, and when he finally drops down I jab him in the mouth. Not good. And then it dawns upon me. Unlike Princess, when Gally does a jump, he won't take off at a hundred miles an hour afterwards.

Next time down the bank I allow him a loose rein. He hesitates, then drops down with ease. The loose rein means my upper body has nothing to lean on, and out of necessity, my lower body kicks in, and flows perfectly with the horse. This is it, the "aha" moment I've been waiting for. I've had the feeling of balancing with my lower body before, but I've never quite understood what makes it tick. It's been a bit like rummaging for a torch in the dark.

From now on I ride totally differently, and the next couple of logs flow nicely. Onto a little enclosure, tall grass in the middle. The tall grass makes the horses stop right in their tracks. Great practice for that lower body balancing act. Then onto some black tyre jumps. They flow, and we tackle the grade 3 jump as well. I am actually very tempted to try the grade 2 jump, but I keep that to myself.

Then onto some pink and yellow tyres. They spook Gally, and I am supposed to be growling at him as an aid to go forwards. "I can't hear you!", comes from behind. It makes me laugh. Gally goes forwards and over the jump.

Finally we finish up, hose the horses, and lie down in the grass swatting the odd fly, muscles throbbing gently. I call Pete and tell him to the casserole in the oven. Dinner is as good as ready.

Sabina's lesson

Today I take Sabina to the local horse riding school for a lesson. I have decided that she doesn't listen when I try to teach her, and that if we're to enjoy our combined dream of riding in the state forest together, then she's got some learning to do.

Sabina gets a nice chestnut pony called Taffy, and the lesson includes grooming, handling and saddling instruction. Michelle the instructor is absolutely fantastic. She takes the learning right down to child level, but she doesn't skip one single thing.

For starters, Sabina is quite excited, and is bouncing up and down. Michelle gently takes her hand, and in a whisper, as though they were sharing a secret, says "Sabina, can you be as quite as a mouse?" In a split second the child is transformed, and listens intently from this point on.

Once Sabina is on the horse, Michelle gets her to do some balance exercises at the walk, such as raising her arm out, and up and touching her toes. (I'd forgotten about these!) Then Sabina practices some trot on the lounge, and finally Michelle shows her how to hold the reins and how to stop the horse. Sabina takes the learning in her stride, and you can see her little legs flapping to make the pony go forwards, and then her whole body leans back as she pulls on the reins to stop.

The session is a resounding success.

Tempo

I go to Anna for a lesson. She starts off by lunging Gally with side reins. Walk, trot and canter.

Then I jump on, determined to become the boss. I use the whip in walk to trot transition, and get told off. Oh, you just can't win. Apparently I need to become boss by using my legs. Ok. We do some work in trot. One minute Gally is too slow, then he is too fast. The problem is that the tempo he chooses is not the right tempo. And "you haven't worked out what your tempo needs to be yet", says Anna. Well, she's spot on there.

As we prepare to go into canter, Anna says "don't worry at all about where his head is. Just ride." I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. We go into canter, and I sit back, feeling the tempo, and using seat voice and legs to keep it really active. It's great. I feel like a little kid again, belting around the arena without a care in the world.

I think Anna sees that it's actually working, and we do the same thing on the other rein. This time she asks me to gently ask him to stretch down with my inside hand. He plays with the bit, and comes slightly round. Finally, Anna has found an approach that works for both horse and rider.

I suddenly realise that this is probably the biggest challenge for a coach. A certain approach might work for a horse, but if the rider can't execute this approach, then you've got to find something else. To be fair, a coach must be given sufficient time to find an approach that works for both, and this may take several lessons, preferably in close succession.

At the end Anna hops on the horse herself. She rides brilliantly, and repeatedly shows me how he still bosses me around.

Pulling faces

Today we're off to Anna's again.

We're in walk and I am asking for more engagement, but it doesn't seem to be quite happening. I can see the ears are back. "He's pulling faces at you, and you're doing nothing", says Anna. "Come on, get on with it".

Later on we're in trot, it feels sluggish, and the ears are back. "He's pulling faces at you again", Anna calls out, almost amused. "What are you doing about it?"

I jab twice with the spurs, nothing. I apply the dressage whip behind my leg. Gally leaps into the air, all four legs off the ground, then trots on with more forward, ears pricked up.

"When he's not going forward, you need to get tougher", says Anna. "And yes, he will leap into the air. You just need to ride him through that. And next time you won't jab him in the mouth." I gulp. I really appreciate the advice and take it to heart. I just wish that I started learning with Anna when I was 20!

It's a horse!

I've been sick which means I've spent little time with my horses. When I have had time to spend with Gally, things haven't been going smoothly to say the least. I know what's going on. Gally is the boss of the paddock, so he has a dominant nature. So of course, he also gets dominant with me. You don't need to be a genius to work it out. I know I need to fix it, and soon. But how? How much do I smack him? How hard? How do I know when to stop? Do I always need to smack him?

For example. I put him out in the round yard and decided that I wouldn't smack him at all. Instead, every time he would do something I didn't approve of I would send him out and wait for him to submit. (This is based on Monty Roberts' training methods.) This worked a treat. Gally is really keen to work with people so he submits very quickly. But I can't use this method all the time and everywhere. It's one tool that works, but I need a whole suitcase of tools.

Smacking him on the backside stops him from kicking out. That's another tool I have. But what about when he puts his ears back when I put the saddle on? Or do the girth up? I need more tools. And so I arrive at Anna's loaded with questions.

Anna is superb. She has a good quick easy solution for most things I ask about. I open up my virtual suit case and start loading in the tools. It would take me weeks to describe them all here. But one thing is worth mentioning.

Anna has put Gally on the lounge with side reins on. She is encouraging him to step through and underneath. Gally is finding this a bit challenging, and at one point he just stops in protest. "Get on!" Anna calls out. He stands still. "Get on!" Anna repeats, and this time the whip flies. He trots on then settles down into an engaged walk. "He won't do that again." Anna speaks to me, while still fully focused on the horse. "You'll see, next time, he will respect the voice command. You have to just get on with it", she continues. "Ask for what you want and don't stop until you get it. And be quick about it. It's a horse. And he's a dominant horse." And if you give him time to think about things, he will find a way to dominate you.

Basically the message is this. If you want a horse to do something, keep demanding it until you get it. The minute you ease off, you teach the horse that whatever he did just before you eased off was the correct behaviour.

The second part is - you have to be quick. Horses are quick thinkers. Keep up!

The third part is - if it didn't work, then try something different. When Anna called out "Get on!" it didn't work. So she didn't follow it up with a louder, longer monologue. She followed it up with a flick of the whip. She tried something different. But, next time, she will still start with the voice. And eventually this will be enough.

Gally goes to Anna's

I take Gally to Anna's (my coach) for a lesson.

I explain to her my saddle woes, and the success of the saddle fitting. Then we get on with the job of training Gally.

First she gets me to walk around on a loose rein, controlling with the legs, and only using the reins when absolutely necessary. Once he is comfortable with the arena, I pick up the reins.

"Do you think you can go into trot?", she asks sternly. "Ummm, no", I respond. "Well, then wake him up. Apply more leg, get him going. And when he is ready trot on." I do, and we're in trot. "When you want to go into trot, lean back a bit", comments Anna. The fear of hurting his back is still with me, obviously.

In trot we do circles, go large, change rein, more circles. Then we go into canter, go large, no circles. "Just focus on getting him to go forward", Anna is almost yelling at me. "He is a young horse, he just needs to learn that when you apply the leg it means go forwards. Keep him balanced around the corners, round off the short side, and just keep applying the leg." Gally is cruising around the arena in fine style. It feels powerful.

We go back into trot. "Have you ever seen jockeys ride?" asks Anna. Have I ever. I nod. "Have you seen how they use the whip? On the shoulder, hind quarters, shoulder?". I nod. "Well use it like that!", she says. "Give him a kick with the leg, then another, if he doesn't go forward enough, then use the whip like a jockey." I do, and Gally responds with a strong, forward trot. Beautiful. "Then just sit there, no effort, no leg, nothing", says Anna soothingly. "Get him to travel exactly like you want him to." Wow, it's so easy. Bit like what my girlfriend said once.

Engaging the hindquarters

I bring Crownie for a lesson with Anna. Anna studies the horse intently as I saddle up. Finally she hands me a pair of scissors "Here, if you're going to make her that pretty, then you may as well trim her tail. If it's too long it actually does get in the way."

Crownie works well in walk and trot. Anna gets me to do these tiny circles on her, for ever engaging the hind quarters more and more.

Then in the canter it all falls apart. On the left canter she just falls out and the circles become huge oblongs. I work really hard at trying to contain it all. In the end both the horse and I come back to walk in a puffing mess.

On the right canter she's stiff. She can hold the circle, but it's a battle to keep her going, and there's no softness. Once she comes back to trot, I can't seem to get another canter.

"You're still trying to get the horse collected from your hand, not from your leg", says Anna with impatience. "You need to be like the horse. You need to use your legs to engage the horse's legs."

Spot on. Plus physical intelligence and strength.

I think about the way I push a wheelbarrow, the way I carry a backpack while hiking, and the way I run down a steep hill with my daughter. A year ago I used to do these tasks relying purely on the strength of my shoulders. (Correction. A year ago I didn't run down the hill.) The bones provided the supportive structure, like one wooden block piled on top of another. But the muscles did relatively little. They stopped the structure from falling apart. That's all.

Now, thanks to a year of training with Anna, and three months of pilates (once per week) the muscles do a lot more. When I push the wheelbarrow I actually feel the strength coming from my torso. From my legs. I can actually run down the hill with my daughter. It's a great feeling to be able to run down the hill, feeling every muscle in your leg providing support, while your joints bend and flex without pressure.

But. It's not enough. Not yet. It's a long road. Enjoy the journey.

Cross country lesson

Will arrives, and I follow him into the massive paddock that is "Little Wandin". We circle Thomas the tank engine for warm up. Thomas doesn't blow a puff, but Princess regards him with considerable suspicion. "All right", calls out Will. Nothing quiet about this guy when he's teaching. "Sit up! Look up! Sit UP!!!". We go over the logs that are Thomas's carriages: grade 5, grade 4, grade 3. "I want you to look up more. You tend to look down on landing and it crushes you. Look up!"

We go onto a little picket fence, garden bed in front of it, going downhill. Wow, all levels of difficulty built into the single jump. The jumping space is actually flat, but the approach is down hill. Princess stops, and I turn her immediately away. "Wait!" calls out Will. "If they refuse, let them just sit there. This is so small she can walk over it." "Sorry Will", I circle up the hill then come at it again. Princess stops, jumps, and I land a bit funny on her back. "Look up!" I could have predicted it. Subsequent tries go smoothly.

We do a bank up. Then a bank down. "Just walk to it", calls Will. "And lean back". The horse slinks gently down the bank. Wow! Feels good. "Ok, now do that again, then onto the log." I shake in my boots, but it's actually a lot easier than I expected. Doing it from walk is definitely a good idea. No need for any faster. Cool stuff.

Then onto the ditch. Grade 5, grade 4, grade 3. The grade 3 ditch is followed by a solid double bar jump. Princess is so focussed on the ditch, she gets a huge surprise when she sees the double bar. I am determined that she won't stop. The front legs go over. For a second or two we're suspended, the horse's belly sitting on the fence. The hind legs go over. "Go again. Look up!". I keep my legs on. Ditch. Two strides. Jump. Huge. I get unseated and land on the neck. I can't manage to grab on anything useful and end up on the ground. Damn. There goes a bottle of champagne. I get back on. "This time really look up!", cries Will. "See those power lines, I want you to keep looking at them no matter what happens!!!". I follow instructions to the letter and feel a huge impact of the massive leap on landing. But I'm good. I'm looking up. We travel.

Next up - ski jump. "I want you to trot into it", calls Will. "Remember, you are in control. You make her trot." The ski jump goes well, but the take off and landing are on the verge of out of control. "You can't let her take off", explains Will. "It's good that she feels confident over some jumps, but if she gets worried you will come unstuck. You must be in control. All these jumps can be done from a standstill. Go slow. Make her listen." He couldn't be any more clear. This is exactly what Anna has been telling me too.

"She's a bit of a doer", calls Will, "not a thinker. She just wants to do it. She's not thinking of what's coming until she's on top of it. Then she reconsiders, then she thinks. That's too late. She needs to think about it earlier. When you take control and slow her down, she'll start thinking a bit more. You must always be in control." He nails it.

We do a few more logs. Will is keen to continue, but I'm getting weary. More emotionally weary, than physically. Although I have every right to be physically weary. "How old did you say this horse was?!", he calls out as Princess and I canter up the hill. "18!" "Can't see it one bit!", he shouts back. "Ok, lets go and do water."

Water. Spectator's delight, competitor's fright. "Just walk her into it", says Will. She walks in without hesitation. "Ok, now trot". Good as gold. "Too easy! Do it a couple more times. That's all there is to it. Grade 5 just walk in and out. Grade 4 just jump down this little bank. You're good."

We walk back to the car, catching up on family gossip. One thing becomes really clear in my mind. I am just as out of control as all those other adult riders. And this is just not the way to do cross country.