Too much formula

I have been sitting at work all week, dying to re-apply my "seat to pommel" formula. So when I hit the arena this morning I am just too keen.

For starters, my muscles aren't used to the "seat to pommel" yoga type pose. So when I hop on Princess, I can't seem to quite get it right. On top of that, she's had four days in the paddock to think about it. And she thinks it may be all too hard for her. I get a bit of head tossing, but mainly I struggle to stay "seat to pommel" for more than a couple of strides. It's dissapointing.

Crownie on the other hand, my trainable horse, is compliant. Somehow, I manage to hold the "seat to pommel" pose with shoulders back and open chest. She goes down nicely on the bit, and engages well. After 20 minutes I feel that this might be enough. Surely not? It's only 20 minutes! I change rein in the walk, Crownie drops a leg and pulls a back muscle. I try a trot but she is most visibly lame. Damn! I've broken my horse.

Quickly I jump off and go into recovery mode. Good rub down to get the blood flowing, then a canvas blanket with felt underlay to keep the area warm.

Seat to pommel at home

Time to apply my new formula to work at home, and to different horses.

I put Princess in the round yard and hop on. (The benefit of working in the round yard is that I don't have to worry about the reins at all, except possibly to slow down or stop). Seat to pommel, shoulders back, open the chest. It feels great. I test this out in both walk and trot and the horse goes better than ever, even though I am not holding a contact on the reins.

I test the formula on Crownie. The change in her is amazing. She's like a totally new horse. She feels very engaged in the hind quarters and much happier in her work.

Seat to pommel

I have a lesson with Anna. Due to the fires I had to skip last month, and now I am lesson hungry.

I breathe in every word she says. "Try and get your seat bones closer to the pommel", she says. I tuck my seat in. "Closer to the pommel", she repeats. My brain screams "rediculous!", but somehow I manage to assume this yoga type pose. "And streighten your legs, down and back", she comments. I get a cramp that's killing me, but I don't tell her. I grind my teeth together and ride on. "Seatbones to pommel", she repeats. I shift again. "And straighten in the shoulders, feel like you're opening your chest up, like you're taking a huge breath." I follow the instructions, including actually taking the big breath. For good measure.

"Seat to pommel", she repeats again. Obviously, the big breath has shifted me out of position. "Straighten up". "Seat to pommel". "Seat to pommel". "Straighten up". "Seat to pommel". "And now, ...drive." I feel it. The interconnectedness of my back, my seat, my elbows and my hands with the horse. And I drive. And the horse responds with a tremendous walk. She chomps on the bit, she steps under, she arches her neck, and I'm in control.

Inside my mind, my brain triumphantly waves a piece of paper with the secret formula. Eureka!

(I also note that my "tuck the seat in" was the first step of this process, and I give myself a little pat on the back.)

Sold!

The weather has been sensational for the last 10 days. But today, as people are due to arrive to view my horses for sale, the heavens open up. It pours mercilessly as the first vehicle pulls in, and I can barely see the horses in the paddock.

"That's the Clydie cross, the one looking at us", I scream at the visitors over the wind and rain. The power goes out. I get a break in the weather when it's time to ride. Throughout the ride I keep updating the prospective buyers on what I am doing, why, and what they would need to do to get this horse going. Tosca is reluctant, she doesn't want to trot, and at the end she rears. Great. "I don't suppose you want to ride?". The lady shakes her head. She looks pale.

Heavens open up and I struggle to lead a frustrated horse back to the hitching rail. The prospective buyers "umm" and "ahh" for a while. Tosca turns left and right. This is pretty good behaviour for her. I get drenched. The lady is about to walk away, when the guy blurts out "look, I have a good feeling about this one". He hands over the right amount of money. Sold.

We get her on the float and soon they disappear in the rain.

(This is exactly what "not to do" when buying a horse.)

The Refusal

I've been doing jumps made up of poles (with tyres on the side as jump wings) with Princess for a while now, and it has been going well. No refusals, and generally clear. Today I set up two barrells on their side. Bit narrow, but I really can't be bothered dragging out another barrel.

I start off with dressage, then go on to jumping, starting off with trot poles, cross rail and then an upright, as per normal. Once the upright is going well, I head for the barrels. Three strides out, I feel the horse gazing at the barrels, and already deciding whether to dart left or right. In fear of a catleap I do too little, and she succeeds in darting right. A refusal.

I feel the fear. The little voice speaks up saying that maybe this jump is just too risky, we might fall off, blah blah blah. I do a circle, letting the little voice have his say. This is important. The little voice must finish speaking. Then I allow the competition voice to speak up. "You need to do this jump in order to compete. Period. How are you going to do it?" I strengthen the leg and my resolve and give it another go. Another refusal.

I get angry (but not vicious). This time we're going over. I do a circle. The little voice is quiet. We're right at the jump, the horse gets no choice but to go straight, so strong is my leg and seat. My hands support. A moment of hesitation, then cat leap. Cat leaps are never nice, and I jab Princess in the mouth on take off. Finally she does what I want, and she effectively gets punished for it. Great. This will cost me.

The little voice speaks up again "See, dangerous. You could have fallen off." I glare at the little voice, and come again at the jump. Refusal. The price you pay for jabbing your horse in the mouth. Another circle, and this time a flowing jump, I fold with the horse and release the reins. Beautiful. I feel the horse breathe a sigh of relief. I snort with her in agreement. Prrr. Prrr.

We do two more jumps. Both brilliant. Mission complete.

Shorten and lengthen the rein

When I am preparing to transition from trot to canter, I shorten my reins. At that point, Princess tends to rush forward into a fast trot. This is not what I want, so I thought I would spend some time just in trot, shortening and lengthening my reins. The aim of the exercise is for her to realise that shorter rein does not always mean canter, and she should stay relaxed.

I am trotting. I shorten the rein. Princess rushes forward. I ask her to slow back down to the trot we had a second ago. And here, the use of the reins becomes clear. Outside rein to control rhythm and tempo, inside rein to ask for flexion. Outside rein acts first, and continues acting, saying slow down. Inside rein acts second and intermittently asks "look inside the circle". Outside leg determines the size of the circle, inside leg says "bring the hind leg underneath". The outside aids are constant. The inside aids are intermittent.

The minute I have a nice soft horse on this really short rein, I lengthen the rein again. The trot largely stays the same, although possibly more engaged. This proves to be a superb exercise. We repeat it three or four times. It actually feels like fun! By the third or fourth time, the horse no longer rushes forward when I take up the rein. I ask for canter and get a very responsive transition, and a superb quality canter.

Relax the canter

Yesterday I went to watch cross country at the Tonimbuk Horse Trials. I walked away with a glaring message "get your horse to relax in the canter".

I jump on Princess, do a warm up and ask for canter right. This is her good side. I can feel that she's walking a fine line between almost being relaxed, and wanting to bolt away from me. "Relaxed" does not mean long rein, with head drooping between the knees. In fact, I have her on a very short rein, but her body feels almost relaxed. Almost. I encourage her to bring her right leg more underneath itself. She yields. It feels nice. I ask. She yields. Softer still. I look up. We're cantering on a 10metre circle! Wow! Job done. Back to trot.

I ask for canter left. The bad side. Here, she feels on the "bolting" side of that fine line. But she's not too far from the fine line. I try and fiddle, but I'm not sure that I'm getting anywhere. She's not bolting off, so I can't be doing too much damage, but I'm obviously not doing that much good either. I go large and just try to maintain what I have. Then back to trot.

Inside the square

These days we seem to be so focussed on looking outside the square for solutions to our problems, that we forget to sometimes look inside the square. That is, just look at the ordinary, the proven methods. Follow others who already successfully do what you want to do.

Today we went to Tonimbuk to watch the cross country phase of the Horse Trials. Horse trials (eventing) is what I want to do, and the cross country phase is what attracted me to the sport in the first place. The flowing, bounding feeling of galloping accross fences through the bush and paddocks. It's great! When you get it right, it's great. When your horse is madly galloping out of control, it's damn scary!

We rock up in the middle of the pre-novice XC. This means the jumps are about 1m high, and some of them are starting to ask some serious questions of the horse's bravery.

The first thing that hits me about the event is that I love it. The second thing that hits me, is that the horses don't really need to make that much of an effort to jump these jumps. And the third thing that hits me is that the elite level athletes, the Olympians, are competing together with the new kids on the block, the aspiring young talents, and the old Jo who just likes to go around a cross country course on the weekend.

In horse riding, it is the horse that is the athlete. And so each elite rider has horses at all sorts of levels. Which means that us aspiring eventers can watch these elite riders on their green horses and work out exactly how they get them to the top.

The last thing that strikes me is how many familiar faces I see. There's an old friend who's just finished his cross country. "Hi Will. Good luck!". There's my farrier sitting and officiating at jump number 3. "Hi Clancy". And there's a couple of friends from Uni officiating at the bank complex. A long conversation ensues about the fires, horses, coaches, physical intelligence and logical riding.

As I watch horse after horse going over the jumps, I can clearly pick the elite riders from the amateurs. The elite riders' horses are relaxed and bowling along. They prick up their ears before a difficult jump, and then fly over, with a genle pat and a good word on landing. The amateurs are walking a fine line between in control and out of control. Sometimes they issue harsh words of encouragement, as their horse looks to dive sideways and avoid that scary looking jump. Each successful jump is rewarded by a "good boy" or "good girl" shriek. I am not saying that I could do a better job than these amateurs. But the difference is stark.

By the time I walk away I am super inspired. But not just that. I walk away with a clear vision of what I need to teach my horses in order to partake in this sport.

Push me

I'm up at 5:40 and riding by 7am. It's an overcast, windstill day. I take Princess for a walk in the state forest. It's been a while since I've been out with her, and she lets me know her fears. She gets into it soon enough, and we have a really enjoyable ride. In fact, she's so relaxed by the end, that I'm holding the reins at the buckle!

I put her away and grab Crownie. We start on some dressage. Crownie, being a long horse, requires quite a lot of strength to get going in dressage. You have to work quite hard to get those back legs stepping underneath. I get some fantastic work, but the minute I stop applying the strength, it all starts to fall apart. The horse stumbles or loses a leg.

After 20 minutes I am exhausted. I do a halt and look at my watch. 20 minutes is just not long enough. I pick up my reins and do some more walk and trot. My muscles are screaming at me. I am wishing for a coach, that could be right here, right now, to push me through this. After another 7 minutes, I succumb to my weakness.

By midafternoon I'm kicking myself for wussing out.

Physical Intelligence and the Coach

So how does one identify a good coach for the upper body physically intelligent horse rider? What does such a coach need to do that may be different to other coaches of horse riding?

The rider needs to develop physical intelligence in the lower body. This does not happen overnight. Nor does it happen in a single step. That is, physical intelligence will develop in various constituents of the lower body - hips, thighs, knees, calves, ankles and feet - at different rates. A supportive coach needs to understand this, and not punish the rider for developing physical intelligence faster in the knees and slower in the ankles and feet. Rather, the coach needs to encourage physical intelligence to develop in the other areas.

Have you ever heard the term "you're gripping with the knees" or "you're gripping with the thigh" barked in a lesson? The coach is correct in what they notice. What they need to realise is that physical intelligence has just developed in the knees or the thighs, but it hasn't developed in the ankles or the calves yet, so we need to focus on that.

Another thing the coach needs to be aware of, is that a lot of upper body problems stem from lack of physical intelligence in the lower body. So while the upper body position should be corrected, the problem will not go away until sufficient physical intelligence in the lower body is learnt. If the rider is hunching forwards, you can tell them to sit up straight. But sooner or later they will be hunched again. The coach needs to focus on building the rider's core strength and leg strength, as well as correcting upper body problems.

Physical Intelligence and the Horse Rider

The horse is capable of travelling at a gallop of up to 60km/h, negotiating obstacles, shying from dangers, and coming to a complete halt within a few metres. It should be obvious that any rider needs a high level of physical intelligence. Those who are physically intelligent by nature are the ones that can be galloping on their first ride. Those who have less physical intelligence, may need a few lessons before they feel comfortable cantering and galloping.

In addition some riders will have more upper body intelligence, whereas others will have more lower body intelligence. The truth is this. On a horse, lower body intelligence is more important. If you have lower body intelligence, you legs will naturally do a lot of the things that keep you in the saddle. If you feel secure in the saddle, you won't hunch and hang off the horses mouth. The horse will feel good, and be willing. You will gain confidence and ride better. As you ride better, then horse will gain trust. And so on. Upward spiral to success. Brilliant.

If you have more upper body intelligence (like me) then you need to work, think and train your legs. Your natural reaction will be to rely on your upper body to keep you in the saddle, rather than your legs. The only time the upper body will keep you in the saddle is if you hunch forward and hold onto the horse's neck. This will make the horse freak out, it will make the rider less confident and more likely to hold on more, which in turn makes the horse lose trust. Downward spiral to giving up.

The good news is that you can train your legs to have the required intelligence. It's not actually that hard. But you need a coach who understands your problem.

Physical Intelligence

One day, when we were downhill skiing, my brother said to me "Skiing is all about getting your upper body right. Once you move your upper body right, everything else just happens". I glared at him, as he easily beat me to the bottom of yet another run, in far superior style.

The problem is that my brother has a lot more physical intelligence than me. But most of that physical intelligence is in his lower body. So of course! When it came to skiing, his legs were already doing all the right things, and he just needed to work on his upper body. It was the same with dancing. When you watched him dancing from the waist down, you'd see chiselled movements of a well trained ballet dancer. (He was doing folk dancing, practicing once per week). When you watched him from the waist up, he was just your average guy doing spins, leaps and other dance moves. (Then he actually started working on his upper body, and those movements became beautiful too).

Each person has some level of physical intelligence, an ability to adapt to physical situations as they happen. And where physical intelligence is missing, good practice will make close to perfect. It appears that sections of our body can have various levels of physical intelligence too, as is apparent from my brother's example. In his case it was the upper body versus the lower body. But I presume it could be more refined than that. Possibly shoulders versus calves, or left versus right.

Introduction to Impulsion

Overview

The entry is about what I have learnt at Anna Auer's over the past 7 or 8 months, which I believe to be the "Introduction to Impulsion". It is aimed at the rider who can ride, but who is not getting optimum performance from their horse. Some of the problems the horse can exhibit are - rushing, not stopping, being tense in the jaw, leaning on the bit, head tossing, working above the bit, bucking, plus many others.

The key to Impulsion is that it comes from behind. It is energy that starts at the back of the horse. Then it moves forwards, and as riders we can either block it, or channel it. We need to learn to channel it. To shape it as it moves forwards.

The Hind Leg

The horse moves from halt to walk by first moving one of the hind legs. The hind leg needs to come underneath the horse. The horse, under the guidance of the rider, needs to learn to do this, one leg at a time.

Bringing the leg underneath is actually hard for the horse, and its initial reaction is either to run away from it (go faster), or to get rid of the cause (buck). The key is not to ask too much, to not allow the horse to run away, and to make the horse comfortable when it does the correct thing.

The exercises for the novice horse are: shoulder in on the circle, shoulder in and quarters in.

The Back

Once the leg comes underneath, the horse needs to arch and use his back. The horse's back needs to arch in a similar way a cat arches his back. The horse cannot do this if the rider is sitting in the wrong spot, or in the wrong way.

The Rider

The rider needs to feel like they are perched on the wither. When looking at the rider, there will be a straight line from ear to hip to heel, and this line will be perpendicular to the ground. However, to the rider, this is totally irrelevant as it doesn't describe how it feels! Your leg feels like you're kneeling. And your body feels more like you're standing rather than sitting. You are suspended in the saddle by a strong thigh, and a strong calf. Your heels are down, but only in a dressage kind of way. If you compare it to showjumping, they heels actually feel like they are up. Most importantly, your body is close to the pommel, and far away from the cantle. Simple. Just do it. Walk, trot AND canter!

Hands and Reins

Hands must be soft. Arms must be soft. If the horse is correctly stepping under with the inside leg, then he should seek contact with the outside rein. That rein must support the horse and not let him fall out. It must control the speed. But there must still be softness in the hand and through the entire arm. The inside rein just asks for more or less flexion (bend). The smaller the circle, the more bend is required. This hand and arm is very soft, and the touch on the rein very slight.

The Neck

When the horse's hind leg comes underneath itself, AND he learns to accept this, the neck will arch. Period. Job done. That simple. You're not quite getting this result? If the horse hasn't been using itself correctly, and all of a sudden you ask for this, and you actually get it right, your horse will probably start head tossing in protest. (Or it may buck, or run, or something else nasty). "Ouch! I'm not used to this. It hurts!" If the horse isn't used to this way of moving, then it just doesn't have the muscle to do it. If you get head tossing, persist. You're asking at the right level. But persist for 10 minutes at a time. If you get bucking, then you're asking too much. Do the same thing, but ask for half that. Aim for the head tossing level. Then train at this level.

Time

Once you start working your horse correctly, it still takes time for the horse to build up the right muscles. If you ride your horse twice a week (like I do), and are still learning what to do and how to do it (like me), it takes probably about three or four months. A lot depends on how troubled your horse is to start off with.

Shorter rein

I arrive at Anna's bubbling with excitement. Over the Christmas break a lot of things she's been trying to teach me have suddenly all come together and I am really really keen to tell her about it.

She listens patiently as I relay my discoveries to her, while Princess walks around the indoor arena. Anna nods her head and punctuates the conversations with "yes's". Yes, yessety yes! I've got it. (And I will write about it here in a series of entries). "I feel like I've had a real breakthrough", I say to Anna. "Now I can't wait to see what I can learn next", I finish off.

"Make the reins shorter, and half halt", says Anna. I do as she says, and the horse almost stops in her tracks. A walk that was running, and fast, all of a sudden turns into a "thinking" or "contemplating" type of walk. The energy is still there. But the horse is not trying to "get somewhere" anymore.

The walking is going well. "Now, shorten your reins, and trot on". I do as instructed. Once the trot is going well, Anna starts preparing me for canter. "Shorten your reins, and ask for canter". Shorten your reins?! But they are already short?! But I do as I am told. My hands feel like they are half way up the horse's neck. The canter comes. The reins feel about right. I have to work pretty hard with them to keep the horse going at the correct pace, on the correct circle, and relaxing. (Remember the entry on "strength"?). If they were any longer, I wouldn't have enough power.

We come back to the trot. "Lengthen the reins". We come back to walk. "Lengthen the reins".

Strength

For the past six months I've being toying with the concept of strength. Does one need to be strong to ride and handle a horse? How strong?

In all the available literature it constantly stresses that it's all about technique, in some languages there are proverbs along the lines of "if the horse knew his own strength then no one would ride him" implying that riding horses is not all about strength.

Now, I do agree, that muscle for muscle, the horse is stronger. If he wasn't, he wouldn't be so useful. But I think when we are constantly bombarded with "it's technique and not strength", we forget that once you get the technique right, you still need strength. It takes strength to groom a horse, to saddle a horse, to clean out his feet, to get on, to balance during riding, and then to issue commands with your seat and legs while balancing.

Let's compare it to riding in a train carriage, or in a tram. Imagine you have to stand in the middle of the carriage, without holding onto anything, while it's taking off, going around corners, bumping across track changes, and then stopping at a station. There is the technique - legs shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, one foot forward, one foot back, feet at right angles - yes, this is how I practice. But then, as the train corners and bumps, strength starts to play a very big part. Your feet feel like they have claws that grip the floor, your quads tense to absorb the changes in momentum, your knees become shock absorbers and your calves flex. And then, if you dont have a handbag and two books, you can use your upper body too. After five minutes, you're about ready to hold the rail!

This is exactly what you need to do on a horse. In fact, you need to do more. Because while you're desperately trying to maintain that balance, you need to also indicate go left, go right, bend this way, move this leg (yes, it can get that precise). So you need strength. Lots and lots of strength. Yoga kind of strenght - I'm not moving much, but I can't be pushed over.

Don't Relax

I'm having a lesson at Anna's and it's going quite well. Anna's lessons are pretty intense, and once or twice during the lesson Anna likes to give the horse a little break. Time to stretch it's neck, and just relax.

We're trotting, and Anna asks for a small circle. "Then, once she's ready, back to walk", instructs Anna. "And allow her to take a loose rein, and relax". I breathe a sigh of relief, and flop back in my saddle, relaxed, ready for a beer. "Not you!", shrieks Anna. I sit up, jolted. "It's time for the horse to relax. You have to sit up and go with her, otherwise she can't relax!"

To sell or not to sell?

Sooner or later every aspiring rider comes up with the same question - will this horse take me to where I want to go?

And I am not talking "from point A to point B" here. I am talking in terms of competitive ambitions.

I ask Anna. "I think you will outgrow her within the year", she muses. "If I sold Princess, what would I be looking for?", I quizz. "Ha!", laughs Anna. "Something not too old, not too young, going at least Elementary level". She gazes critically at Princess as the horse walks around the indoor arena. "A lot depends on how much you are willing to spend", she trails off. "What about height?", I ask. "Huh?", Anna looks up at me, as though she's in another world. "Oh height. 16.1hh is the maximum I would consider. Small horses struggle to get the marks in competition, but they are much easier to learn on." I nod. I can't help but notice that Anna is fully pre-occupied with Princess though. More so than normal.

Then half way through the lesson Anna chooses to ride Princess. She's ridden her once before, but now another dimension to Anna appears. She disciplines the horse, and makes her get on with the job. She walks, she trots, she canters. She does small circles, large circles, shoulder in and quarters in. She rides with real zest and audacity, the likes of which I haven't seen for a very long time. She gets ... well ... serious. Princess still pretends that it's all too hard, but Anna just keeps asking. I feel full of attitude.

"Jump back on and have a feel", she says as she hops off. To me, the horse doesn't really feel that different. But I do. I have now seen how much "cootash" Anna gave that horse, and I do the same. The lesson becomes punctuated with "yes" and "good". We do a final halt. Anna looks up at me. "Sell", she says.

Dangling the bit

Spring is here and Anna is super booked out. I am very lucky that she's happy to have me at 8am.

We start off in the walk. Princess is striding out. Another time, and an instructor would have been happy with the "active" walk. Not Anna. "She's running in that walk", says Anna. "You must slow it down". Small circle, shoulder in, volte, shoulder in. Then bingo, the walk slows down. Almost a touch lazy. It feels like the horse is listening. Wow.

"Now maintain that feeling in trot. If you lose it, come back to walk and get it back", instructs Anna. We go forward into trot. It feels nice and steady, but quite powerful. Sort of like you could easily do a nice jump over an obstacle. "Now keep the soft hand soft, and make the hard hand soft." I do my best. "Now feel like the bit is a carrot, and you're dangling it in front of the horse, and with every stride, the horse has to reach for the carrot." I do. The hand is merely there holding the lightest contact, while the horse is gently playing with the bit as it strides forward. It feels so correct.

We practice this in rising trot for a while. "When you rise, snap out of the saddle. You're sitting too heavy", adds Anna. In my mind, sitting too heavy translates into being really nasty to your horse, and I feel terrible. I also feel quite tired, which doesn't help. Then a phone call comes in, that a horse is lame, and hence the 9am lesson is cancelled.

Anna asks for canter. Here we're not ready for dangling the bit yet. The horse is still rushing and running away. "You are so used to being taken for a ride", says Anna, "you have to get the horse to slow down, and then drive. Even in canter."

Finally. at 9:30am we finish up. I'm nackered. "You're lucky the 9am cancelled", says Anna. I know I'm lucky. It's these strokes of luck that will get me to where I want to go. But right now, I just feel exhausted. I smile wryly.

Cinderella

The haying paddock (a.k.a the arena) is locked up for hay. So from now, till the harvest is in, I am pretty much forced to ride out.

I put the boots on Princess, and off we go. Must be spring or something, because she is really quite a handful.

Then, on the canter home, I hear a funny noise. Sort of like a puff, puff, puff. I glance down. The boots are off. Three of them. I mean they are still attached to the legs by the gaiters (thank goodness for that), but they are off. I'm ropable! And, Princess being what she is, it takes me 5 minutes to detach the boots, and another 10 minutes to hop back on. I make her stand there, while I fume.

Back at the big shed I inspect the boots. They're not designed to be cantered in, upside down. The metal bits which hold the wire are bent. Two boots are okish, but one is bent to an unusable state. I'm on the verge of crying, and on the verge of putting shoes back on my horse. Obviously, in our rocky terrain, I need those little pins to keep the clip closed.

Position, position, position

There was another thing that Anna pointed out in yesterday's lesson, but it really merits a separate entry.

How important is position? The way you sit on the horse? That imaginary ear-hip-heel line? (I am not a big fan of the whole ear-hip-heel thing, but that's another topic in itself.)
Well, truth be told, position is everything.

When a rider is in the correct position they are able to control the horse, change gait, slow down, speed up, with relative ease. The reason for this, is that the correct position is comfortable for the horse. The horse is actually able to work together with the correct position, and respect it. A correct position renders the horse and rider a "team".

When you deviate from the correct position by leaning forward, it usually means that you are using your hands too much, and your seat not enough. (By leaning forward, I do not mean going into forward seat. I mean that you start slouching with your shoulders.) The effect to the horse is that you are hanging off their mouth. So, firstly they avoid contact. If you force them into the contact, then they may lean on the bit, start rushing forward, get stiff in the neck or the jaw, or all of the above.

When you deviate from the correct position by slouching backwards, you become like a sack of potatoes. Imagine (or better still actually do this) that you are carrying a 15kg hiking pack. Get the harness nice and tight - you should be able to feel the weight of the pack, but it should move with you. Now loosen the harness right off. The pack should feel heavier, and as you move left or right it probably feels like it's a burden. Now try trotting. That's what the backward slouching rider feels like to the horse. The effect is a horse that stiff through the back, rushing, bucking, an unbalanced horse, leaning on the bit, or all of the above.

Now for the bad news. It is actually possible to be slouching backwards and forwards at the same time!!!

Bewildered

Here I am, at Anna's once again. Sunny day, sand menage. We start with walk, a few circles to the left, a strong half halt when changing direction, a few circles to the right. Engage the hind quarters through the shoulder-in, quarters-in, or the volte. Then halt. And there it is. The feeling of the horse fully on the aids and working into the bit. The halt is perfect. Full of impulsion from behind, and void of resistance. I sit in bewilderment. I had doubts whether this horse could actually do it.

We go on in trot. "Every time you feel her rush forwards, make the circle smaller, engage, then make the circle bigger" advises Anna. Aha. I get the purspose of the concentric circles now.

Sitting trot. The horse is egnaged. "Now drive", says Anna. I drive. And there it is, that "on the aids" feeling again. Wow. In my bewilderment I lose it all. Anna tsk tsks, and instructs on. I feel embarrassed and ecstatic at the same time.

Onto canter. We work on preventing the falling out. It's hard work on the muscles, and after a few circles I feel tired. Princess feels me ease off, and takes advantage of it. I work harder and re-engage the horse. At one point Anna's comments diminish. I'm riding well. The canter is still a far far cry from the walk or the trot, but I can feel a hint here and there, that it too will come good.

I cannot believe we've come this far.