Training for fitness

There are two types of fitness that one must work on with the horse - the aerobic fitness, and fitness of joints and ligaments. Aerobic fitness is developed by cantering and galloping. Fitness of joints and ligaments develops through lots and lots of walking. Virginia Leng (an eventing guru, and my hero) used to walk her horses for three weeks, every single day, before doing any other training.

I take Crownie into the state forest where we walk down to the valley. Then we do a fast canter up the road - about 1km. Then we walk down into another valley, and do another canter up the other side - about 700m. Then a very very long walk - around 4km I think. Then I let her gallop. Walk over the rocks, then gallop again up to dead cow. We mainly walk the rest of the way home.

The aim of the exercise is to work primarily on the ligament fitness, but to also start making some headway into aerobic fitness. So all the fast work is done uphill on nice smooth tracks.

Introduction to Showjumping

I have done some showjumping with Crownie in the winter of 2007. In fact we did a quite tight indoor freshmans course at grade 4 level. She was totally calm and went clear. So I know she can jump. It's just a question of getting her fit enough again.

Oddly enough, it is precisely today that I stumble across an article (based on a lesson taught by Will) which talks about how a horse's balance must develop, first over trot poles, then over increasingly bigger jumps. I had never thought about this before, but it makes absolute sense.

We all know that a horse must develop balance in walk, trot and canter when carrying a rider. Jumping is no different. So when you're going over trot poles your horse must retain rhythm and straightness. If they rush before, during or after the trot poles, the they are not really ready to go onto jumping.

I apply this principle when schooling Crownie. We go over the trot poles, and I look for balance. Once I am happy that she can maintain her rhythm, we progress onto cross rails. These are so low that she chooses to trot over them. This is fine. I find that she hesitates just before the cross rail. It's only half a microsecond, and it's basically a balancing problem. So we continue the exercise until it gets smoother, then call it a day.

Canter right; head left

I mount up on Crownie, and preparations for my second one day event are under way.

The amazing thing about this horse is her trainability. She's not very fit, and not necessarily willing to listen to me right now, but within minutes of starting a new exercise she is listening and doing what I ask. And all the training principles apply. It's such a relief!

For example. We're trotting on a 25 metre circle (Crownie is a long horse, and initially needs a bit more space.) I ask her to do a volte. The whole idea of the volte is for her to become more collected. Her first reaction is to rush forwards. But I limit that through the use of my reins and legs. Then she collects. Then we're at the end of the volte, and I allow her to go back on the large circle again. So, when she does the right thing, I release as if to say "that's all I wanted. Good girl".

So then of course, the next volte goes better, because she knowns that last time she collected herself a bit she was rewarded. Awesome.

Later to get more collection I do two or three voltes in a row. So I ask for a bit more. Then I release. It works beautifully.

We go into canter. Canter right to be precise. Something weird starts happening here. She's on the right lead. But she's heading left. Head is bent to the right, but she's definitely following her shoulder to the left, neighing madly to her mates as she goes. Argh! This is not how it's supposed to be. How in the world am I going to do cross country?

Well, in horse riding, the horse is actually our greatest teacher. I listen. The neighing sounds a bit like laughing. "What are you laughing at Crownie?". What's supposed to stop her heading left? Well, my left leg of course! I come back to walk and retrain my left leg until it's stiff, sore and exhausted.

Wandin - Photos

The photos from the event are up on the Morrie Matthews web page. I am as excited as a four year old at Christmas!

Wandin - the Post Mortem

Those horse trials were so much easier than I had ever imagined. It's the first thing that strikes me about the event.

I was really worried about the cross country. In training we had some refusals, a horse that was very difficult to control, and a fall. Yet, when it came to competition day, the adrenaline kicked in, the horse new her job and we just flew around and had a really good time.

And that's the second thing that strikes me. I had a really good time. Previous competitions (showjumping, showing, dressage, combined training) I had been to have been somewhat of a chore sometimes. But here I can honestly say I had a lovely time. Perhaps the support of my girlfriend and my dad contributed. But the eventing crowd really was very friendly and accepting as well. It really felt like a bit of a hoot on the weekend. Something to do when you're not working.

The last thing I notice is that I have lost my immediate urge to become a horse riding coach. I don't want to spend time teaching other people how to have this much fun. I just want to get out there and do this again, and again, and again!

(The longer term plan to become a riding coach is still there. Of course. But before this event I was on the verge of enrolling in a coaching course. Well that plan has definitely been put on the back burner for now.)

So, where are all the eventers heading to next?

Wandin - the Results

Greedily I download the results from the official TTT web page. I find my section. This is how it looks for Princess and I, as the dust settles over the jumps.

We were in a group of 32 riders. One never started. After the dressage, with a total of 53.60, we were 31st. Last.

In the cross country we went clear, but added 46.4 time penalties to our score.

And in the show jumping, we had a single rail down, costing us 5 points, and clear on time.

A total of 105.00. Placing 16th, out of 23 riders who managed to stay in the competition.

Can't complain. I think we proved a point, and left room for improvement.

Wandin - Day 2

It's almost 7am and foggy. Very foggy. I get ready and have breakfast and start saddling up my horse. We're the first cross country combination to present for gear check. That's because all the other people own sane horses.

It's still really foggy, and I'm careful not to wander too far away from the showjumpers. Safety in numbers. And the visibility factor. If I wander too far away no one will see me if I fall off.

Princess is uptight. Better than in the dressage, but not as calm as before the showjumping. I try various ways to settle her, but in the end I realise. She knows she's here to do cross country. And she is ready to give me 110%. She will do every single jump. I just have to set her up.

"Five, four, three, two, ONE! Go! Good Luck", calls the starter as I trot out of the gates. I can barely make out the first jump in the fog. Oh, there it is. Good old Thomas the tank engine. Princess tugs. I let her go and we are clear over the first.

Picket fence. I slow her down the hill. She glances, then jumps. I gaze into the fog. Fence three, where are you?

The little brush fence. Piece of cake.

The ditch. Coming into it, I'm telling Princess "it's the ditch, you're scared of ditches, slow down". "I'm good. I know this ditch. I'll cruise over it", she answers. She's right.

Another rider passes. Amazingly I stay in control.

The back of the tractor. Coming towards this jump I feel Princess' eyes shifting from one jump to another not sure what's next. Finally, I focus on it. "Just let me go", she screams at me. I am scared. She leaps over it.

The big brush. I'm scared again, but I let her go. She flies.

The chute. "I want you to do the chute", I say to her. "That thing? No way", she says 6 strides out. "Yes way". "Ok" and she jumps it.

The dog. Cruising.

The seat. "Watch out", I say. "I see it", she responds. Clear.

The cavalletti. "Ok, we're going to angle this one", she nods. Easy peasy.

The eyes. "Just think it's a showjump and aim for the middle". Done.

The water. "Now slow down, just trot". She hesitates for a microsecond, then she trots through the water. The crowd cheers.

The drop. "Ok, ok, just walk". The crowd is trying to help with their soothing words. She slinks down the bank, then pops over the log, then takes off. "Whoa!"

The zig zag. Done. And to my most great surprise she doesn't take off for the float. I turn her around.

The photo jump. Excellent. And now I let her fly through the finish flags.

My eyes well up with tears as I jump off. My horse. My little horse. You did it. Not just did it, but did it like a pro. You little beauty. I give her a little hug and many many pats.

In the vetting enclosure it's a real battle to slow her down to a walk. The vet comes over and checks her heartbeat. Too fast. 5 minutes. He comes over again. Still too fast. The sequence repeats itself two or three times. Finally, "She's right on the limit", he says. "I can see that she's fit enough, but she just seems to be very excited. If you went to Werribee you may have problems with the vet check. I recommend you give her more exposure to this." I gaze at him, then whisper. "She's 18". He shakes his head and walks off.

I settle my horse in her yard and return to watch some more cross country. And I feel even more proud of my little horse.

The competition is far from finished, but I must start heading home. There are other responsibilities to attend to. Like dinner with the in-laws.

When we get home, I put Princess in the haying paddock with Crownie. She goes for a good roll, then puts her down to eat the grass. Crownie gazes at her "you look like you haven't seen any grass for a week", she seems to say. Then she nods knowingly at me. I get their food ready.

The sun ebbs towards the horizon, and the mares have finished their food, when I walk in with a rug for Princess. I expect her to be impossible to catch, but instead she trots over and stands still as I fasten the buckles. We understand each other. The job is done. Time for a holiday.

Wandin - Day 1

It's 6:10am in the morning, pitch black, all good, except that the horse won't get on the float. Finally she relents. As we drive through the farm gate I remember that my membership card is neither signed nor stamped.

We arrive at Wandin. It's already a bustling living equine town. Tents, floats, trucks, yards, and of course horses. I find our allocated yard, put Princess in it and go to the events office. I take out my cards, careful to hold the membership card well out of view. I smile at the lady over the counter, and hand over my horse trials and dressage cards. "And your membership card", she gazes at me over her spectacles. I hand it over, straight away owning up that it's not signed. "I'm sorry, but you can't compete". "No, you don't understand. I'm a working mum. Work, child, running the house, running the farm, training a horse. It's an honest mistake", my brain screams at her. But on the surface I smile as kindly as I can and explain "Look, I am a paid up member, my club president signed off my entry form, we must be able to do something." She nearly kills me with her gaze, but in the end senior personnel gets involved, phone calls are made to my club president, and club secretary. The club secretary says she's on her way with the stamp. "You must have your membership card stamped and signed, both, by 4pm today, or you will be disqualified", says the spectacled lady as she hands me my number. Phew. I race back to my horse.

Now, what time is it? I was supposed to start my warm up half an hour ago. Great. Wide open spaces, sweeping views, and only 20 minutes to warm up Princess. They must be joking. I'll be lucky if that horse goes into the arena at all.

I pass the gear check, only because the gear check lady is scared that Princess might stand on her. Then I do circles. Lots of them. Little ones, medium ones. Careful to put pressure on one rein at a time. Just try and keep her head down, try and relax her. As I'm about to start my dressage test, I murmur something about the market to the next competitor.

The dressage test goes well. We follow it pretty much to the letter, and the first canter is actually really good. I don't care what the judge will say.

The minute we're out of the arena, Princess starts freaking out again, and she trit trots sideways all the way back to her yard, ambulance ambling along behind.

Back at the yard I unsaddle. My girlfriend joins me with her two year old daughter and we forget the mad horse while we go and get a coffee.

We walk the showjumping course. It's brilliant. Ten jumps. It sort of spirals to the right for the first half, then takes a sudden turn left, and spirals that way before finishing off with an S. But there's nothing hard about the distances. So it will be rider errors that will bring people to grief. Not horse errors. Brilliant, I say.

My dad catches up with us, and it's time to saddle up. In the showjumping warm up, Princess starts having flashes of calmness. Now there's a new concept. The jumps help to focus her attention, and she becomes calmer on her approach. A few more jumps, and she's calmer on departure as well. We're ready.

I trot into the showjumping ring, and present myself to the judges. The bell rings. We set off. I'm working overtime to ensure she jumps the first jump. As a result we have a rail down at jump two. Then I realise. This horse is going to jump everything for me. All I need to do is set her up. I do my job. Princess does hers. The rest of the course is clear. Cheers all around.

What a relief. Back at the float we get quite jovial. But can't rest on our laurels. Time to walk the cross country course. Grade 3 have just set off across country, and we "ooh" and "aah" between jumps.

The cross country course is resonably inviting to start off with. But in the middle it puts up a few challenges. The back of the little pretend tractor is very square and solid. The brush fence is high. The chute is also square and solid. The dog is narrow. The seat looks intimidating. The combination should be jumped at an angle. Then there are the eyes. The water is an easy drop, but should be approached slowly. The drop and the log demand respect. The zig zag is on the way home, yet afterwards one must double back and jump the narrow photo fence.

All sorts of things go through my mind, but above all "I should be doing this course on Crownie!".

The phone rings. It's the club secretary. I run to my car. The card gets signed and stamped, both. Then it's off to the events office. The spectacled lady looks kindly at me and smiles, as she inspects the green card, oozing with fresh ink. She crosses my name off the black list. (The list is not short).

The sun starts setting, my friend and father leave for the day. Princess is not eating or drinking, her fur is matted with dried sweat. Her sides are sunken in. I jump into her yard and give her a pat. On the other side of the driveway I spot a little patch of grass. We walk over and after a good look around Princess puts her head down to eat the green juicy stuff. Later, back in the yard, she eats her dinner, and I brush all the sweat out of her coat.

The rest of the day is spent putting things in the float, and getting the car ready to sleep in. Then shower, and off to dinner. The eventing crowd is a friendly bunch, and I feel very welcome when I sit down next to some people. Turns out, they are almost my next door neighbours!

Finally, I bed down in the car for the night. I gaze at the stars through the back window, and go over the cross country course again, and again, and again.

The night before Wandin

I groom Princess till she's shining bright. I trim her mane till she looks like a seasoned eventer. I wash her tail till it's silky smooth. I put the horses in the Red Rum paddock and give them a feed.

I pack the car, ticking every little item off my list. Sabina and I have a disagreement about the blue lunging whip. She's convinced she needs to go fishing with it tomorrow.

I set 2 different alarm clocks. Just in case. And I apply my meditation lessons and calm myself down. It works. Amazingly well.

Tomorrow starts the end of the first step in the journey.

Making it work cross country

So now that it's all working in the jumping arena, lets put it to the test in the cross country paddock.

I ride out into our huge amphitheatre paddock. I am still on top of the main ridge when Princess does one of her silly little rears. I scowl. "Right, no more barley for you" I think to myself, and push her on. She's edgy all the way down the ridge. I could swear that she's better than this in the state forest.

Due to her jumpiness I head straight for the new arena, and work her in there. I do a lot of trotting, getting her flexing forever deeper. She calms down, and we canter. They are quite good canters. Not too long. I would rather have a short, high quality canter, than something that disintegrates into a mad dash.

I am happy with her work, but I forgo the logs for today. It's a bit wussy, I know. Instead we wander down to the dam. A friend left her bag on the bank yesterday and I retreive it. Princess is surprisingly cooperative when I dismount to pick up the bag.

One step forward

I have spent all week sweating over it. The jumping. All week I have sat there pulling apart my position and they way the horse jumps, and then putting it back together again. Of course, I've only done it in my mind. Today we get to practice.

I reset the jumps so that I have a couple of nice cross rails and one vertical, and many related lines in between. The cross rails are so small that I know the horse can just walk over them. In fact I know that the horse could pretty much walk over the vertical too. Then I start putting it all back together.

First, my position must be correct, I must be looking up and sitting up. Second, the horse has to be in control and travelling slowly. Period. That's all there is to it.

I go over the first cross rail, looking up. The penny drops. The rider never gets to see the jump. They have to feel it. There is no other way. The rider gets to see the jump two strides out. From there on they ride. They jump comes. The rider must perfectly stay with the motion of the horse. Then the horse's effort in the jump forces the rider to fold. It's bizzarre, it's amazing, it's like riding blind.

I keep trying this concept over the other jumps, time and time again. I try related lines. Once, just once, Princess goes too fast from one jump to the next. And it all feels like it's falling apart again. I take control, I reprimand, the next related line is much slower.

I took it apart, and put it all back together again, and it worked.

Two steps back

I wasn't happy with my or Princess' jumping during our recent cross country lesson. So, today is the time to practice.

I do a normal dressage warmup, then eye the jumps. I've lost my confidence. I go over the cross rail a couple of times. It doesn't feel right. It feels like something has fallen apart, and needs to be put back together again. But what?

I think the horse is jumping more or less the same as ever. But to me the whole exercise seems all over the place. The approach is rushed, the jump is flat, the landing is hard, and the travel lacks bounce.

I focus on my position and do the barrells. Awful. I am trying to sit up and look up more than ever, and I just seem to catch myself looking down on landing all the time!

I quit while I'm ahead.

Gaining control

When Princess is in the arena, I have little trouble keeping her in control. So we need to venture out, in order to challenge ourselves. We head for the state forest.

Out here, she challenges me frequently, and I need to be strong in my seat and position to retain control. We head down into the valley, then canter up Stanley Vale road. Then walk down Mason track. As we head in the direction of home, Princess definitely wants to increase the pace. I resist. She shakes her head. I give her a longer rein, but the second she speeds up I shorten it again. Then loosen it. We play like this for a while. Truth be told, I'm a bit over this game.

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.

Feeling the fear

Tomorrow I am having a cross country lesson with Will Enzinger. And I feel the fear. But fear of what?

For goodness' sakes. Pull yourself together girl. I mean, Will is a great guy and a supportive teacher. So it can't be fear of Will.

Fear of a cross country lesson? I've had heaps of cross country lessons before and I have never ever had a BAD cross country lesson. I've had BAD showjumping lessons, but not XC.

Fear of Wandin? Wandin is known for its undulating countryside. But this is just a lesson. If you get out of control, you just circle until you get control back again. Too easy.

Fear of the early morning, the journey down a little known road with burning off going on either side? Get a grip. As long as the horse gets on the float I will be fine.

So, fear of what? Fear of actually realising my dreams? Yes.

This is the first step to a one day event. This is my dream. It stands in front of me now, within reach. And the easiest thing is to form an excuse and take a step back. The hardest thing is to step forward and live it.

Triple bar

I set up a triple bar jump in the paddock. It's simulated with logs and tyres, but it looks pretty much like the real thing.

I do my normal warm up. Then I practice cantering down the hill. I only go half way up the hill. The aim is to get a good downhill canter going, and not to get out of control. We have another 4 or 5 weeks to get right to the top. The canters go reasonably well.

Then I commence my jumping. Trot poles, cross rails, barrells. Then the triple bar. I point Princess at it and aim right for the middle. She jumps. Good. We come at it again. Then, what's this feeling I'm getting? Is that the horse not racing at the jump, but actually waiting for me to give the signal? Yes, it must be. Two strides out from the jump, I give the signal. She stretches out and sails over it. Wow. So smooth. Such partnership.

Wandin preparations

I do some serious dressage with Princess this morning and it goes really well. My seat to pommel and chest out is now starting to take up natural form and doesn't feel like a cramping yoga pose any more.

Preparing the horse for the event is the number one thing, but in reality many other preparations also go on in the background.

There is a whole spreadsheet covering training schedule, list of local events leading up to the big event, list of gear, it goes on. Don't get me started.

Today I casually wander into Horseland. They know me by name. Is it obvious whether I am just looking today, or whether I am here to spend serious money? Probably. The assisstant is at my side in seconds. Not that I mind, because all of the assisstants here are absolutely delightful.

I investigate top boots. This involves putting on a pair of jodhpurs, and boots and sitting in a saddle, on a saddle stand. Another client is testing out a saddle next to me. "I'll race you", I call out to him. "I think you'd win", he comments after a long glance at the cream joddies with shining black boots. "Hey, it's not the gear, it's the quality of horse", I retort. We laugh. I decide to take the jodhpurs and leave the boots. For today.

Onto cross country safety vests. I almost faint when I see the price, but I try one on anyway. Just for size and feel. It feels like I'm sitting in a cardboard box, with my arms, neck and legs sticking out. I wonder how in the world I can ride a horse in this contraption. The assistant reassures me that you "get used to it". Sure. At the very least I do feel pretty bomb proof. We play around with the fastenings and the sizing. I spend about 15 minutes in it, and I actually do get used to it. I probably need a size smaller though.

Then I pick up some gloves, some worming paste, and, of course, horse stickers for Sabina.

Heading for Wandin

Recently I grabbed whereis.com plus a list of HRCAV events, and started checking which events are closest to the farm. Wandin came up, being a mere 60 something minutes away. That will be 1h 20mins with horse. The event is the TTT Horse Trials on May 30 and 31st. Bingo. I started preparations to do Grade 4.

Being a TTT event, there are all sorts of associated rules with it. One is to either show evidence of three horse trials within 12 months at the required level, or to get level assessed. The level assessor comes out today and I show her my best moves in dressage, showjumping and cross country. Sabina runs around the paddock after me with a handful of mandarin pieces. At the end, the assessor looks at the beautiful undulating paddock I school in and says "Please canter up the hill, and then canter back down". Gulp. I do as told, and to my amazement, the horse doesn't just go for a mad downhill dash. "Now walk". That's tougher, but we get there.

The assessor signs off my cards and I'm ready to enter the event.

The click

I jump on Princess with eagerness, ready to try out the theory of self preservation. The formula here is firstly to feel if the horse goes into preservation mode, and then give her every reason to decide that she doesn't need to be in self preservation mode. Slow her down, reassure her with hand and voice. Praise her. Tell her with body and voice that everything is ok.

I also set up a picnic table jump. Our challenge for today.

Warm up, jumping warm up, then the barrells. Self preservation mode. I coo and gently slow her down. It seems to be working. Another jump. All is going well, we do the picnic table. She sails over it. We try it a couple of times and then I make it more difficult, plus I raise the height of another jump. She's starting to get tired now, and every now and then I get that typical self preservation mode. I tell Princess its ok (with body and voice) and she comes back to me faster than normal. It's excellent.

A couple more jumps, I think to myself. Then, something unbelievable happens. The click. Not the sound, the feeling. At take off. A real spring up. A real "try". Wow.

Self preservation

During the week I read an article on Eventing in Thailand. Somewhere in the article I read something along these lines:

"... if you push them [horses] too hard during cross country, they go into self preservation mode, where they will just grab the bit and keep galloping ..."

The penny drops. Self preservation. The grabbing of the bit, the stiff neck, the galloping away like there is no tomorrow. That's 100% Princess. I've never heard it coined so well. Or maybe I just wasn't ready to hear it. Either way, my horse's big secret is out.

She is so worried about everything, that she just goes into self preservation mode. In addition, if I ask for something that requires more fitness than she has, she also goes into self preservation mode. And she is such a strong and athletic horse, that she can afford to stay in this mode for an entire ride. Be it an hour, or two, or three.

My attitude does a 180 degree turn. I can't wait for tomorrow, to test this out.

Dream canter

With Crownie broken I have all morning to focus on Princess. We ride out. The aim of the ride is to test out my newly found level of control.

I get the odd hesitation as we head down Invert track. Then I ask for trot up Stanley Vale road. All good in trot, I ask for canter. It's a dream. Gone is the grab of the bit, the stiff neck and the out of control horse that won't stop till we get back home. This is a brilliant cross country canter. Full of strength and power, bowling along with a keen eye and alert ear.

Half way up the hill I bring her back to trot. Then canter on the other lead.

At the top of the hill we return to walk and amble along all the way home. As we head back up Invert track, I sit forward and hold the reins at the buckle. The horse keeps walking. I do my ultimate test of horse control. I take the phone out of my pocket and take a photo.