Falling Out

A sunny day, a lesson with Anna, we work outside on the sand menage.

On the left rein Princess falls out. I keep the neck straight, and correct her with my outside (right) leg. "Feel like you're correcting the shoulders" advises Anna. "Move the shoulders across with your outside leg, keep the quarters in check with your inside leg. It should feel a little bit like you're riding on the right rein." I correct every quarter of a circle. Then every eighth of a circle. We do this in walk, then in trot. Then we make a very small circle in trot, with the odd step of walk thrown in.

Finally we try it in canter - on a large circle.

Falling Out

A sunny day, a lesson with Anna, we work outside on the sand menage. On the left rein Princess falls out. I keep the neck straight, and correct her with my outside (right) leg. "Feel like you're correcting the shoulders" advises Anna. "Move the shoulders across with your outside leg, keep the quarters in check with your inside leg. It should feel a little bit like you're riding on the right rein." I correct every quarter of a circle. Then every eighth of a circle. We do this in walk, then in trot. Then we make a very small circle in trot, with the odd step of walk thrown in.

Finally we try it in canter - on a large circle. I don't know whether I manage to stop the falling out or not. What I do realise is just how hard I am working with my seat and legs. I try to follow Anna's instructions, but I am not sure I am doing a good job, and after a few circles I feel exhausted. Can't say the same for the horse.

Work at home

So here I am. Schooling at home, trying to find another way when Princess locks up. Easy? No. Very frustrating, in fact. I am not used to finding another way. I am just used to getting my way. I suddenly realise just how often I have been using excessive force on my horse. It's hard to accept and very humbling.

I continue. I don't use force, I find another way. I fight my mind and try to stay soft. I get the results I am looking for. This is a much better way to get results, and horses are so forgiving.

Concentric Circles

My second dressage lesson with Anna. Princess is considerably more relaxed, and Anna notices that I've been working on my position. She gets me doing some concentric circles - start off on a 20m circle then wind down to a 5m circle, then back out to a 20m circle. Do a volte if necessary. We use the exercise to correct Princess' falling in and falling out. We correct it every quarter of a circle, then every eight. In the process, we establish how much strength is really required from each of my limbs. It's a lot more outside rein and outside leg than I thought. And a lot less rein overall. The horse travels correctly.

Every now and then, Princess locks up in the jaw and neck. "When she locks up like that, you must try something else", comments Anna. It includes sit forwards/back, lighter/heavier, move your hands up/down/out. I don't realise it at the time, but in many ways this is the statement I have been waiting for. When a horse locks up, listen to it. It's uncomfortable, and it doesn't understand what you're saying. It's not "naughty". You'll never get anywhere with sheer force. Find another way, a better way. Find your own way. One that works for both you and the horse.

After the lesson Anna suggest that I try a thicker bit. A thicker bit will make my hands more forgiving. When a bit is thin, each movement is magnified, so it's not a good idea if you're hands are a bit unsteady. So simple - why didn't anyone tell me this before?

Dressage Lesson

I am invited to a dressage lesson with Anna Auer - an equestrienne from Austria who has enjoyed dressage success in Australia, and has taught dressage and trained dressage horses for many years. My entourage of daughter, husband and accountant (yes accountant) makes the whole outing feel over the top.

At my request we focus on position. Back straight, relax left shoulder, don't jerk left hand, left toe in, less heel down. Then we focus on the horse. When head goes up, hands come down, but gently, gently. Ask her to look into the circle, gently though, don't jerk. When she runs, lean forward a bit, catch up to her motion. It's only when you're travelling with her that she will slow down. Snap out of the seat in rising trot. Faster! Retain the contact through transitions, yes, gentle contact. When she dives into the bridle, retain the contact, be gentle, go with her, then ask her to come up a bit.

I follow every instruction to the letter. The back of my mind is screaming at me though - "What?! Heel up? Hands down? Lean forward??? Every rule is being broken!" Yet within half an hour Princess is travelling better than ever before, and by the end of the lesson we're onto some lovely canter work and shoulder in.

And the emphasis is on "gentle". Gentle, kind, but disciplined at the same time. I get good vibes from Princess. We will be back for another lesson soon. Just perhaps less entourage! Although my accountant threatens to come to the next lesson as well. Maybe he'll invest in a dressag horse rather than a race horse next year?

The Slow Ride

A friend arrives and we go riding together. She's on Bess (thanks Lisa!) and I am on Crownie. This is as much a girlie catchup as a ride and we're happy walking along and chatting about children, health and money. But the riveting conversations stop as we go into trot, then canter, then gallop. Three minutes later we're on top of the hill, smiling, cheeks beaming a rosy colour. Still, it all feels amazing slow to me these days, and even at the gallop I'm playing around with the reins, encouraging the horse to stretch and lower her neck, and use her back more. In fact, I wouldn't mind jumping a couple of logs along the way. Does that sound like cross country?

Trafalgar ARC Combined Training Day

A frosty morning, a flat equestrian park with views as far as Mt Baw Baw. A passing train to Warragul goes "hoot hoot hoo-oo-oot". Princess freaks out. The dressage judge is wondering why I bother. Between a rubbing saddle, and an improvised medical armband, we find a horse shoe for good luck. The showjumping course rides beautifully - every ounce of my showjumping training with Greg Smith is put to good use. The eucalypt jump, the dazzle boards, and the pot plants don't faze us. Clear. I manage a smile.

It's good to feel humble.

On the way home ... the car plays up. Must have been talking to the horse.

Frosty

It's frosty. The ground is slippery. Can't jump until it thaws out. Princess is not working well. There is not an ounce of "give" in her neck. We muscle it out for over an hour. Working through resistance they call it ... apparently. We achieve some good transitions and finish on a good note. Too late to jump now. We will do that tomorrow.

Rally Day - Neerim AEC

Princess comes with me to the Drouin Pony Club grounds. Showjumping and Dressage lessons go well. Then Georgina takes us Cross Country. My horse baulks at a tiny log. I freak. Where is the girl who wanted to do eventing? Princess gets attitude, I lose my trust. Georgina understands where I'm coming from. We work it out in the end and do some nice jumps and some lovely canter/gallop/canter.

Husband is frustrated that I get home so late on Mothers' Day.

Tuck your seat in!

Riding position according to me is:

1. Core strength
2. Inner peace
3. Strong lower leg

Riding actions are:

1. Look up
2. Leg snug
3. Tuck the seat in

Of course there is more to it, but these are the principles. Get these wrong, and you can forget about any sort of control.

Kardella South Pony Clud Show

We take the scenic route, arrive later than preferred, tack up and warm up in a daze. The showjumping rounds are good, and everyone eyes off my calm, relaxed horse, and the clear rounds.

Showjumping Results

5th - Showjumping 45cm - Princess
2nd - Showjumping 60cm - Princess

(1 day of fun; 10 years in the making)

Crownie's September Training Schedule

Trust your horse

We're going out. It rained a lot last night, and the paddock feels too wet. After yesterday's taxing work out I think that a lot of walking would do us good.

My core strength feels good and engaged from the start, albeit somewhat sore. I imagine Crownie must be feeling the same. She is definitely stiff, and finds it hard to go down hill on the slippery surface.

We trot up one of the roads, then take a track I have never been on before. As we alternate between walk and trot I realise that I am exhausted, and so is the horse. Neither of us has eaten enough yesterday. I kick myself that I didn't think of it, but it's obviously all part of learning. On top of that Crownie is stiff. I am hoping that it's just stiffness of the muscles and not shin soreness.

The track weaves down hill towards a creek. I can see the crossing, and it looks a bit rutted but fine otherwise. Before the creek crossing, the track gets a bit steeper. Crownie slips and slides a bit, and refuses to go down it. I think she's a wuss, and so I jump off. The clay underfoot is as slick as ice, I slip and slide and grab onto Crownie for balance. Four legs good, two legs bad. Crownie turns away from the creek. I stop and take another look. I concede defeat. We retreat.

For the rest of the ride we mainly walk and trot. We do a nice canter/gallop up to Dead Cow, and then head home. I am really happy with that canter - it implies that she is not shin sore.

Back at the ranch, I double the size of Crownie's feed, and put her out in a grassy paddock. After two eggs, a sausage and two slices of toast I feel like I've eaten air. I decide to double Crownie's evening feed too.

Core strength

I feel very inspired by last week's discovery of the importance of core strength. I am keen to play with this concept while we're out on the trail.

From the minute I hop on, I assess the strength of my core, my back, my legs. By "core" I mean all the muscles in the stomach, from the pubic bone, right up to the ribs, as well as the lower back. What troubles me is that they feel floppy. And I can't seem to engage them.

We go into trot, we walk at Dead Cow, then trot again, canter through the pine trees. Trot, walk down the side road, trot, then canter to the other plantation. During the canter I finally seem able to engage that core strength. At the same time, Crownie feels more balanced. It appears that the warm up is just as much for the rider, as for the horse. I seem in some control of my stirrups as well.

We're on a new track, and we spend a few kilometres just walking and trotting. After we cross a creek, we canter. I stay in three-point position and focus on keeping my core strong, yet supple. We canter like this for about 8 minutes (approximately 4km).

As we head back home we get a nice mixture of walk, trot and canter, but I can feel that the flame in Crownie is gone. I have hit the boundaries of her fitness. This is essential in order to improve fitness. We often call it "hitting the wall". Once you've hit the wall, you need to keep going to actually improve your fitness.

Crownie's August Training Schedule

This is Crownie's proposed schedule for August.

This is Crownie's actual training schedule. Looks like a month of disasters.

A new trail

A friend came up last night, and is keen to come riding with me. So this morning we set off super early, keen to explore a new trail.

I feel Crownie didn't enjoy yesterday's session, so I focus on keeping my heels down, stirrups on the ball of my foot, and letting her have as much free rein as possible. We will be doing sufficient hill work today, that she will come on the aids when she is ready.

We trot, canter and gallop up to the start of the trail. Then we walk. The trail weaves up and down, rather than following the ridge. I didn't bring the map, so we are doomed to staying on the trail. It's good for the horses though, which get a lot of nice hill work this way. The ruts left by the motor bikes are annoying, and definitely slow our progress in places. Every now and then we need to bush bash to get around a deeper rut, or a bog hole. Eventually we descend into a creek crossing, where I actually have to get off, scout the route, and move some logs and branches. The creek crossing is so rutted we have to walk the horses across it, and half way up the next hill. But when we hop on again, the track opens up beautifully and we can trot and canter as long as we slow down at the slippery parts. When we get back to the main trail, we canter and gallop all the way home.

It's a great fitness ride. Firstly, we were out for just over 2 hours. Then my idea to let Crownie have a long rein pays big dividends. She starts collecting before we even hit the trail under investigation. It allows me to focus on my heels, and I discover that my heels are not the problem. It's more that I am being lazy with my thigh and back muscles. As we weave up and down the trail, I repeatedly lose my balance. Eventually it hits home that I need to rely on a strong body core for balance. Once this happens, the feet stay in the stirrups all by themselves, and Crownie becomes more balanced as well. As my posture improves, so does Crownie, so does her collection. The final canter is excellent.

Of heels and transitions

I got two things out of last weekend - I need to work on keeping my heels down, and I need to practice transitions to get Crownie more collected and balanced. In my dressage session this morning I try to focus on both.

I do a very standard warm up - walk, trot, canter. Change rein and repeat. Throughout the warm up I focus on my heels. Somehow, I seem capable of losing my stirrups in rising trot. In canter they are dangling somewhere around my ankle, with my foot still in the stirrup. I consider getting rid of them altogether.

We start the workout with walk/trot transitions. Crownie lacks energy and balance. It takes about a circle for her to get balanced after an upward transition. Once she is balanced, I ask for a downward transition - when it feels like I lose my balance as well. We persist with this exercise for about 20 minutes. Upward transitions to canter are poor, although she actually is more balanced in the canter. But the transition itself is difficult to achieve. Downward transitions (canter to trot) are probably the best of a bad bunch. The heels have gone out the window. And on top of that, Crownie is falling out on the left rein.

I decide to focus on correcting the falling out. The temptation is to ask for more bend with the left rein. But the correction must come from a stronger, more consistent right rein, and a strong right leg. In the first two circles I try to just master the reins. Then on the third circle I apply the leg. And it works - she stops falling out. We go into canter, Crownie starts fallling out, and I repeat the strong right rein, and firm leg. I can feel her whole backside shift into gear, as she straightens. The canter is balanced and confident.

Showjumping at Tonimbuk

Amazing Dawn

It seems to me that all horse events require you to get up at dawn. Or earlier. Luckily, today's dawn is perfect. Fog lies low in the valley. As the sun rays creep over the mountains, the clear sky takes on amazing shades of yellow, orange and blue - like the intense colours seen on those Australian outback vases.

Crownie comes in for a feed, the kookaburras laugh, laugh and laugh.

The Drive

We get away about half an hour late. Where did the time go? Next time I'll get up before dawn. I am calm. We have time up our sleeve. I settle into a weird feeling of relaxed and apprehensive. Then I notice the country side. We are driving through a white wonderland. I flick the temperature button in my car - it's zero degrees C outside. Wow! No, it's not snow. All the rolling hills, all the paddocks, the entire roadside is covered in white, glittering frost. I am fascinated by sparkling gates and signs, by twinkling wisps of grass at the edge of the road, by white furry fence posts. The perfect morning.

The Lesson

We manage five minutes of walking as a warm up (I would have preferred 30, but we know where that went), then we go into the indoor arena. The jumps are tiny, even I could trot over them. I relax and focus on the walk, trot and canter, as indicated by the instructor. We warm up on both reins, then we start with a grid. The grid progresses from a single cross rail, to three cross rails - with a bounce and two strides in between. Crownie keeps trotting over them without a fuss. That's the problem. Trotting. There is no jump. This might be fine at one foot high, but it isn't going to cut it as the rails go up. The instructor gets me to collect her a bit, and then she attempts to duck out. I correct her immediately, and we still make the entire grid. This is good. This is what I have been waiting for - to see how serious she will get about refusing. Not very serious. Good horse. The instructor adds two straight jumps (about one foot high), and we have a course. I am told (repeatedly) to hold my hands down and still and to collect, collect, collect. Crownie responds well, she goes around the course, no refusals, but also no real jump. At the end of the lesson the instructor suggests that she is ready for much more collection, and that we need to do heaps of transitions.

Showjumping warm-up

I do about 30 minutes of warm-up. Serious warm-up. I ask for Crownie to be on the aids and we do walk, trot and canter. Circles. Rein changes. She feels amazingly supple. This is a very different horse to the one I started with six weeks ago. She's like a concertina. I can bend her sideways, I can collect her, and I can extend her. I can't extend too much, or she just gets flat, but a little bit is ok. Same with collection. I am getting some good, solid working paces. Then we relax for the next 40 minutes as we wait our turn to jump. Every 10 minutes or so we do a few circles, get into a nice working trot, and pop over a couple of cross rails. Then we have another break.

The course

Mounted, we walk around the course. It's a nice course. 10 jumps, one double, two or three oxers, a couple of cross rails, two changes of rein. Both the first and last jump towards the arena exit - good. Inviting.

Showjumping - 45cm

We are over the first jump and away. After the second, Crownie considers heading straight for the exit, so the corner (tightish) is very unbalanced, but we manage to jump (yes, jump) three and four. The next jumps just flow, and before I know it I'm heading into jump 10. My biggest problem is to do an elegant turn after the last, without knocking over the organisers. Overall, a very nice clear round. It is obvious that the tight turns need more work.

Showjumping - 60cm

This looks high to me. I know Crownie is capable of jumping it in principle, but, she is untested. We start off in trot, she jumps the first and goes into canter. The corner takes us off balance, we go back to trot, and have a rail down. Next jump, one more rail. Then we're back in canter and the course starts flowing again. Next tight corner - loss of balance, trot, canter, jump. Pop, pop, pop, the jumps feel tiny. Last jump, I get a bit unseated, but we're over and careering into the organisers ... whoa! ... well almost. Overall three rails down, and a smiling rider.

Afterthoughts

I can't believe it. We've survived the day. I am ecstatic. I am shaking. I know, I know, we've only jumped a 60cm freshman's round, and we had rails down, but to me, we've won the Olympics. On the way home I shed a private tear. Cross country, here we come.

Packing for Tonimbuk

We gather up the dinner dishes, and I tell my husband that I am off to feed the horses and pack for tomorrow. He nods with indifference, and returns to bath preparations with our daughter. To him it's just another night. To me, this is the night before the day of reckoning.

Up till now, I have trotted my horse six times over a cross rail, and tomorrow we will do a jumping lesson, followed by two rounds of freshman's showjumping: 45cm high, and 60cm high. Am I mad? Is my horse ready for this? Am I ready for this? Do I really know what I am doing? Every wise horseperson I have listened to, every book I have read, tells me that what I am doing is right. But I have a sinking feeling of despair, a loss of faith, a feeling that I am standing at the gates of doom.

I focus all this energy into packing, as though I was preparing for the end of the world. Bridle, spare bridle. Extra spare reins. Girth, spare girth. Morning feed, lunchtime feed. Hay, hay and more hay. Magnesium orotate, hydrogen peroxide. With a suspicious calmness all items take a logical place in the car, and I feel I have everything. I am not "ready". I am just "prepared". Prepared to face the demons I have created.

Lull before the storm

I wake up, but I really can't be bothered getting up. Tomorrow we're going to Tonimbuk for a jumping lesson and freshman's showjumping. I feel sick. I don't want to go to Tonimbuk. I don't want to do eventing any more. I don't want to get up. This is terrible.

Outside, the sunrise is breathtaking, and heavy fog rolls around in the valleys like a lazy polar bear. We ride out, but it's heard to follow our usual relaxed warm-up when mists fleet across the path like little ghosts, and sometimes you can't see more than 10 metres in front of you. As we trot on in these mists, I am impressed at how trusting Crownie is. We try to stay on high ground to get as much visibility as possible.

I don't want to tire Crownie out too much, because tomorrow could be a big day. At the same time, I don't want her to lose fitness. So we do a lot of trotting (much safer in the fog), and some short stretches of canter. We ride into the valley and then canter up the hill to Dead Cow. Within the hour we are home.

Scenic route to the cross rail

The paddock has been drying out for a whole day, and then more rain came overnight. So we're doing our warm up in the park.


We go into trot pretty much immediately. I make sure I change diagonals every now and again. Then we walk into the valley, and from there do a fast canter up the winding road. It takes us about 2 minutes, and Crownie is happy to slow down at the top. Then it's more walk into the next valley, trot out of the valley, and all the way until the returning track. This is a steep 1km climb - we gallop. Crownie comes back to walk before we reach the top. I'm starting to push the limits of her fitness now. This is good. We walk down into the valley again, and do one last gallop on the way home. Crownie is still blowing at the gate.

We walk down to the cross rail I have set up. It's a place pole, then 12ft to cross rail, then 12ft to place pole. So you can do it in either direction. I do a couple of circles. The quality of the trot is surprisingly good. Crownie eyes the setup with suspicion, but trots over it without a fuss. Two more times and I am happy. We circle on the right rein, do the cross rail three times and we're done.