Month: February 2019

I love a good blog hop, especially if it means I get to live in Fantasyland!

Viva Carlos wrote: In a silent fit of anger at my job I began day dreaming about what life might be like without my job, not what I would spend my money on (ponies naturally) but how I’d actually spend my days…

I am assuming for this particular exercise that I am somehow independently wealthy, since I am jobless but still able to spend money on ponies? And since I’m independently wealthy, I obviously now have lots of ponies and my own farm. Obviously.

5:30am – Wake up and head to my lap pool for a swim. I like waking up early, I can’t sleep past 6 anyway, so I’d still get up at my usual time. Also I love swimming, especially early in the morning, but hate people near me, so the only solution is my own private lap pool at home. I’d be in it every day for sure.

6:15am – breakfast and an hour or so of wasting time on the internet/blogging. This is one of the biggest perks of living in this day and age, the ability to mindlessly surf the internet and waste ridiculous amounts of time.

7:30am – wander out to the barn. The morning would be reserved for riding.

11:00am – Get distracted and start piddling. Spend an hour trying to fix a gate or brainstorming a new XC fence or dragging the arena, or… shit, maybe I’m just out in the pasture doing donuts on the Mule for fun.

12:00pm – Wander into town to hit the feed store or tack shop. Grab lunch with friends.

2:00pm – Back to the farm to spend the afternoon working with the babies! Because obviously I have my own little mini breeding operation now, with a couple of foals every year.

4:00pm – back in the house to shower and waste more time on the internet, finding out what happened all day while I was outside living my best life. I think Independently Wealthy Me would have a corgi rescue, so I could easily lose an hour or two playing with them, too.

6:00pm – Have food delivered. Probably Indian. Maybe Mexican. Nah, lets say I had Mexican for lunch, so let’s go with Indian food for dinner. Delivered to me because I am lazy like that.

6:30pm – READING TIME. I love reading. Everyone go away and be quiet so I can get lost in a book.

8:00pm – Night Check! One last look at all the ponies/dispense some cookies and pats. Also, now my day is bookended with horses, as it should always be.

8:30pm – Go to bed. Keep reading until I fall asleep surrounded by a dozen corgis.

 

Damn, I really need to find a way to be independently wealthy…

 

 

Way back in November I wrote a post about how I was dedicating myself to working on my mental game. I had noticed over the previous years that I really was not in a good head space when it came to how I approached showing, or even just the day to day struggles that all riders have to deal with. I was putting way to much pressure on myself, I was too negative, and I was losing focus. All of these things had a severe impact on, well… everything… but especially when it came to my performance in the ring. I was tired of letting myself be my own worst enemy, tired of being consumed by anxiety and ruled by emotion, so I decided to start trying to take steps to change it.

I started in what has always been my favorite place: books. Before I could really try to fix what was going on in my head, first I had to understand it. I loaded up on different sports psychology books, most riding-related but some not, and spent a lot of time picking them apart page by page (or with my audiobooks, sentence by sentence). Some of them I really liked, some of them were just ok. But they all highlighted one big thing: I had to learn how to be kinder to myself, how to see the big picture, and how to let go of things that I couldn’t control (well ok, there’s a lot more than that, but those were the big 3).

Whether it’s coincidence or not, I saw immediate results. Right after I opened my first books, I finally managed to put in two solid performances, finishing on our dressage score in both of our fall shows and earning two 2nd place ribbons. Awesome, right? Clouds part, angels sing, you’re done, you win, job complete, ta-da! Yeah no, not so fast. Then Texas Rose came along, and with it, some very complex feelings. The old me would have called that show a test, but now I see it for what it really was – an opportunity to see just how much I had learned so far, and just how dedicated I was to seeing this through.

That show was our first P/T, at the biggest venue we have here. I was pretty intimidated by it, but I also knew that we were capable. I made a bit of a mistake in the dressage (an error) but was able to just kind of laugh it off. Which… that itself is progress. The undercurrent of embarrassment and self-deprecation was still there of course, but I was able to pick out what went well and identify what I had learned. Then we got to stadium. It looked huge, and I was trying real hard not to shit a metaphorical brick. Warmup was kind of a shitshow, and I stepped in the ring thinking “Okay self, you can either feel cowed and defeated by all this, or you can sit up, kick on, and give it your best shot. Now is the time to choose.”. I sat up and I kicked and we got through the course just fine, albeit with 4 rails.

Gah, four rails. It’s really ugly to look at that 16 on paper, right? Plus you feel like kind of an idiot as the jump crew is scurrying around, cleaning up your mess as you walk out of the ring. But does the number on the paper actually tell the story? No it doesn’t. It was our first recognized Prelim showjumping round, on a horse I’ve had for his whole career, and here we were at a level I had never even dared aspire to. If I chose to focus on the result (“omg 4 rails, 16 penalties, great, now we’re last!”), I would have been upset. But if I chose to focus on the journey, and the opportunity that this represented (“holy shit we did a Prelim round at Texas Rose! I made mostly good decisions, and my horse tried so hard for me. Now we get to go home and work on how to smooth out the less great parts, and see if we can make some improvements.”) it was exciting instead. It was funny to me, as I sat there by Henry’s stall that afternoon and considered everything. That was the first time it really registered with me that I could actually choose how I wanted to think and feel about it. I could choose to be upset, or I could choose to be excited. There was so much power in having the ability to choose, rather than in letting my emotions control how I felt.

And then XC rolled around, and a random footing issue resulted in a 20. I remember walking back to the barn after we finished, waiting to feel that blow to the gut. Because, you know… a 20 is failure, right? Kind of embarrassing, especially on a horse that should not be getting 20’s. But I waited and waited, and that blow to the gut never really came. It’s not like I’ve learned anything new here, really… horses are horses, sport is sport, and sometimes things just go wrong. Shit happens. I’ve always known that. But before, I let the things that were outside of my control really get to me, to define who I was as a rider and even as a person. They would eat me alive, feeding on my self-worth, my confidence, and my positivity. I let myself feel so discouraged by random occurrences or one off mistakes. But this time I finally saw it for what it was: Shit. That. Happens. And again, there was a learning opportunity available to me, if I chose to take it.

I have never left a show in second-to-last place and felt satisfied with it in my entire life, until that day. And to me, that illustrates a lot more growth than either of those other two previous shows where things went really well. There’s nothing glamorous about growth, but it’s essential. I learned so much more from the show that looked ugly on paper, and I was able to grind away at those lessons, keep working, and make marked improvements. Which, shocker, eventually DID make themselves evident in consequent show results (if you’re into that “results” kind of thing).

In retrospect, I really needed to have a bit of a rough time. It made a lot of the stuff I had been reading actually click into place for me, and I was able to see things that I still needed to work on, but also the things that I’d already made so much improvement with. It proved to me that I was on the right path, and that this mental training stuff was really something I needed to pursue, for my own sake. I delved back into my reading with gusto, and started talking to more people about the subject.

Around that time Matt Brown came out with his Chronicle series, A Case for Not Focusing on Your Goals, and the subject matter was much the same as what I was dealing with. I was blown away by it, not really having seen a top professional be so candid about the subject before. He had book recommendations too, which I have been making my way through one at a time. Rough times are going to happen, no matter who you are and no matter what you do. Especially when you push further and further outside of your comfort zone, into new territory. They’ve happened before and they will happen again, sometimes in small ways, sometimes in big ways. There is no avoiding that. The difference is how we get through them, and I’m realizing that perspective and mental preparedness are key.

The more I’ve become aware of the mental aspect of riding, the more I’ve noticed the little things that continue to add up. The more people I’ve talked to about it, the more I’ve realized I’m not alone. In fact, almost every single person I’ve talked to has had some of these same struggles, or comes from a similar place. I feel very strongly that this isn’t something we talk about enough, as equestrians. It’s not a discussion we’re having all the time, but it should be. It’s not something we dedicate ourselves to as intensely as riding itself, but it should be. Every rider, every trainer, every owner should have this mental training as a continuous part of their education.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying all this because my brain is magically “fixed” and I’m all better. Far from it. There is no such thing. I have to strap myself in, every day, and commit myself to this, every day. It will probably always be this way. For as much as I have learned, I still have 100 times more to figure out. It’s still very easy to find myself slipping into negative self talk, or comparison, or focusing on the flaws, or fearing failure. Our brains are programmed that way in this day and age, and trying to reprogram it is not easy. It’s a long hard road, and I don’t expect to ever find the end of it… I’m just hoping that it will continue to smooth itself out a bit.

I’m also hoping that by sharing my story as it unfolds, that it helps spark more conversation. I want to talk about this, honestly I need to talk about this, and I want other people to feel like it’s okay to talk about, too. Either way, get ready to see me reference this or talk a lot more about this from now on. I needed some time in the beginning to absorb it for myself and start working things out in my own head, but now I’m ready to start sharing, for better or worse. And if anyone ever wants to have a conversation, never hesitate to hit me up. If you’d rather do it privately, email me or message me any time.

If you’re looking for a couple of books, my two favorites so far have been Braining Training for Riders and Chop Wood Carry Water. That said, Trafalgar Square Books has a really good collection of sports psychology books, if you want to see what else is out there. Something else might speak to you more.

Spending last week in Ocala was an interesting experience. On one hand, I instantly wished my horse was there with me, because it’s such a horsey area and all the big names are there, and there are tons of shows and clinics and schoolings happening all the time. It’s a little like Equestrian Disney World, and the FOMO was intense. On the other hand, spending those few days in Ocala sealed the deal on me never taking my horse there.

For the past few years I’ve been thinking of spending a couple weeks in either Ocala or Aiken in the winter, but after experiencing the heat and humidity that is Ocala, there is just no freaking way that would be an option for us. Henry doesn’t handle that type of weather well, and he would be miserable. He’s a 50’s/60’s kind of guy, and if anything he’d rather it be colder than hotter. So, ya know… maybe some winter soon, Aiken. Or I could just find a job and move there permanently, because that’s what I really want. Texas would be in my rearview mirror without so much as a second thought.

But, for this year anyway, we’re past the point of leaving town for the winter. Our season starts here in mid-March, and we’ve got a recognized show every couple weeks through June in Area 5. Of course, I find myself in a bit of the same position I did in 2017… kind of in between levels. I was waiting until after the second off season Pine Hill show to start formulating a plan for the year, and now we’re past it, so it’s time to start thinking. We’ve got two successful Prelim’s under our belt, and one P/T, but the two Prelim XC’s we’ve done have been on a soft course, and we have very few of those in our area. I don’t think we’re quite “there” yet to go tackle some of the other courses. MeadowCreek’s mid-March show was an option, as their course is pretty straightforward and the track suits my horse well, but with all the rain we’ve had (and continue to have in the forecast), I have some footing concerns. Also Trainer isn’t going to that one, and I definitely don’t want to tackle our first recognized Prelim without her.

We decided instead to go school at a facility up near Dallas that weekend, a place that has plenty of the types of questions that we really need to work on. More technical stuff, bigger, skinnier, requiring more accuracy and forward-thinking. At this point I think something like that will be of more benefit to us as far as growth goes. Not as exciting as showing, but that’s the journey sometimes. Of course, that only leaves us with one possible recognized Prelim left on the table for the spring, after you nix all the big/hard ones that I don’t think we’re ready for. That would be Pine Hill in mid-April, over a new course from the one we’ve already done. I’m leaving that one on the table as a maybe, depending on the weather and how everything else goes. I’d like to go because we’re comfortable there now, so it would be a good first recognized, but if we don’t then I wouldn’t mind saving the money.

Mostly because the big thing on our calendar right now is the two back-to-back Coconino shows in July. We did Coconino in 2016, and then Chatt last year, and I definitely preferred Coconino. Chatt was prettier and fancier, for sure, but it was so disgustingly hot and humid. I felt bad for taking Henry there at all, he was absolutely miserable. Showing him in the summer is tricky, I have to be smarter about it if I want to do it. So back to Coco it is, the land of cold nights and no humidity (and, granted, high elevation). He was a much happier animal in that environment. The ground isn’t as good, the facility definitely isn’t anywhere near as fancy, but my horse can actually breathe… that counts for a lot.

Granted, the Prelim at Coconino is no joke. They have a weldon’s wall there that has haunted my nightmares for years, and the terrain, shadows, and woods make the course even more challenging. Also, clearly I wouldn’t be running Prelim on back to back weeks. Way too much for my horse’s legs. I’m thinking maybe just do a CT the first week, or a dressage test and a jumping round, school that stupid weldon’s wall in between weeks (mostly for my sake, let’s be honest), and then run the full Prelim on week 2. So the thought right now is to keep working through the spring, do lots of schoolings, fill in some gaps, do more jumper classes, and then go to Coconino.

That’s the rough plan right now, but of course things could and probably will change to some degree. We are already qualified for AEC’s this year but there’s no way I’m running my horse in humid Kentucky at the end of hot/humid August, so that’s completely off the table. We’ll worry about the fall season after Coco, if all that works out as I’m hoping.

It might be a bit of a slow year for us, horse show wise, but I’m totally okay with that. Right now the goal is growth and improvement… the other stuff can come later.

 

I am one of those weird, ultra-pathetic people who can be gone for 3 days and just really misses their horses the whole time. I’m used to seeing my knuckleheads every day, and they are what my world revolves around, so even just a few days has me missing my two favorite goobers.

Since we got home from Ocala so late/early, I just worked a half day on Friday. Enough to clean up my inbox, put out some fires, and then slip away quietly before I got drawn into anyone’s problem. From there, of course, I went straight to the barn.

Henry’s new bit had arrived while I was gone, so the first order of business was putting that fancy thing on his dressage bridle. See… here’s the thing with Henry. When you change anything, any piece of his equipment, his initial reaction is hatred and extreme overexaggeration. You have to give everything two rides before you make an assessment, and when it comes to bits, you better not actually be trying to get anything accomplished in those first two rides. He will chomp incessantly for the first ride, and then in the second ride he’ll either be extremely worse or slightly better. By the 3rd ride he either likes it or he’s belligerent. He is high drama. Like honestly, y’all should have seen the meltdown he had over a Happy Mouth once. It took me two weeks back in his regular bit to get him right again.

So for his first day in his Neue Schule, I just planned on a long ponying walk hack. No contact, just let him carry it and get used to the feel. As expected, he chomped and chomped and chomped the entire time. I think even Presto was like “Bro. Stop. Dat is annoying.”.

Aside from the chomping, both of them were spooking snorting idiots for our hack, especially Presto. Which is pretty out of character for him, usually he’s definitely the quieter horse of the two. I could tell he was just WILD, especially when at one point he was passaging beside us and snorting at bushes. So when we got back, I turned him out in the arena while I went to put Henry away, and all I could see out of the barn door was flashes of Presto, running endless laps of the arena at warp speed. Couldn’t do this in your pasture on your own time?

In his defense, it had been a week since I got him out and did anything with him, so I think he’d just gotten bored as hell. I appreciated that he was as polite as he was for our hack, considering how many pent up loonies he had lurking under the surface.

On Saturday and Sunday morning I was watching the Saint-Lô stallion show on ClipMyHorse, live streaming from France. It’s a rare treat to have a whole weekend with no firm plans, so I took full advantage by watching as much from Saint-Lô as I could. We were originally hoping to make it to Saint-Lô this year to attend the stallion show in person, but then the Burghley idea came about and that seemed like a more-bang-for-our-buck trip for the year. Some day, Saint-Lô… someday. A couple new stallions caught my eye, and I liked seeing event sires Upsilon, Jaguar Mail, and Grafenstolz.

The highlight of the show for me, of course, was a familiar face. Mighty Magic is looking good at 16 years old, and I am seeing so much of him in Presto.

The weather this weekend could not have been any better, with highs near 70 and bright blue skies. We made more progress with Henry’s new bit (I think we have a verdict, but I’ll talk about that more when I post about the bit itself), and on Sunday I set up a faux ditch in the arena to send Presto over.

First he snorted at it a lot, then he literally tried to kill it by stomping it with his front feet. After a couple times over he was just stepping across, so I was like “I wonder what he would think of those barrels over there” and sent him at those. It’s so funny how quickly he’s understood the idea of sending over obstacles, just from that one day where I lunged him over those boxes out in the field. Now you just kind of point to it and he goes. They should have horse agility classes, he’d be good at it. Okay that’s a lie, he would be really slow. I’m pretty sure he finds the game to be fun though, and he just trotted right up to the barrels and plopped over, super unimpressed.

This week I’ll be glad to get back in our routine, and start getting myself prepared for the busy spring ahead. It’s almost March, guys… this year is already flying!

Our flight back from Florida last night didn’t get in til like midnight, so I’m moving a little slow this morning, but better late than never?

Yesterday was the Future Event Horse side of the YEH/FEH symposium, with yearlings through 4 year olds, looking at them on the line and (for the older horses) under saddle and in the freejump chute.

We kicked off the day by talking about judging conformation, and what to look for.  Holly Simenson, the North American director of the German Oldenburg Verband, joined Championship judges Robin Walker and Peter Gray for input on this part. She wasn’t such a fan of using the triangle to present the horses, saying that in her experience it’s too easy for the horse to get crooked, which in turn can make it look like they have irregularities or imperfections in their movement. She prefers showing the horse in hand against the rail of the ring, keeping the horse straighter. But… our FEH format uses the triangle, so that’s what we used.

The first demo horse of the day was a lovely full TB yearling colt. All of the judges mentioned how difficult it was to judge yearlings, which I think everyone can agree with. Holly noted that in her experience, the prettiest yearlings often end up being the plainest and least athletic adult horses. She also said that for event horses especially, athleticism is the quality that is of the utmost importance. Robin and Holly both agreed that since they can be so darn ugly at that age, and change so quickly, what they really look for in the yearlings is a good type and ground covering gaits. In this case good type means something that looks more like a TB, and ground cover means one that has a lot of reach underneath the body with the hind legs and easily covers a lot of ground in the paces. They want to see that the horse “walks with it’s body” – ie the back is supple enough to allow the horse’s entire topline to move as it walks.

They also want to see that the horse has correct limb conformation. Holly stressed to the breeders that if a foal has a some kind of deviation, it’s important to address it as soon as possible. If you fix these issues before 6 months of age, the bones in the lower leg will align correctly and it won’t be a problem. However, if you wait until after that age, the alignment will not change, and any changes you try to make to get the limbs to look straighter will only put them under more stress.

From there we saw some 2 year olds and some 3 year olds, both colts and fillies, from a wide variety of bloodlines. We discussed each horse’s conformation and gaits as a group, and the judges gave their thoughts on how they would score them. Robin cautioned the judges not to get too nitpicky, and reminded everyone that just like with the YEH judging, what they’re really scoring with the gaits are whatever the best moments are that the horse offers, and to remember that they’re looking for horses that look like eventers.

Which led to more discussion about just how important it is for the horses to be properly prepared, and for the handlers to be educated on how to best present their horses. You could have a superb quality horse, but if it’s such an idiot that the judge can’t see any good moments of movement, or if you don’t know what you’re doing and fail to show the horse to it’s potential, then the judges have no choice but to score what they saw. So, prepare your horse, learn how to present it in hand well, and everyone will have a better and more successful experience. Robin especially was very passionate about that part. A couple of the horses were quite poorly behaved and presented, so I can easily see how frustrating it would be as a judge for that to happen in a class. They looked like nice horses, but we couldn’t get an accurate idea of just how nice they might be.

After that we moved on to a mock 4yo FEH class, so basically a w/t/c flat class. This is judged much the same way, where they’re looking for the horse’s absolute best moments and scoring those. One thing that was common here is that the riders did not generally show their horses well at the walk… the judges want to see one that is really MOVING and marching and swinging through it’s back. They don’t care if you do it in your jump saddle or dressage saddle, or if the horse is all that solid in the connection yet – they just want to see the best possible gaits you can show on that day. Ground covering, supple, and forward, with an active hind end.

From there we went over to the freejump chute. First Robin covered the specs for the chute and the distances, and then talked about the equipment he uses (gloves, helmet, a short rope). Safety was of utmost importance here, as he wants to make sure that the horses are safe, confident, and have a good experience. Again he stressed the importance of working on this enough at home so that the horses know what to expect in the jump chute, have learned how to go through it properly, and are confident about what’s being asked. If the horse isn’t prepared, the judges aren’t going to be able to see the horse’s best efforts, and it’s unfair to the horse to show up somewhere and have to do something it’s never done. A lack of preparation for any of this stuff seemed to be a big sticking point for Robin throughout the day.

Matthias Hollberg, a GP showjumper, helped run the freejumping side of things. He noted right off the bat that not every horse that freejumps well will jump well under saddle, and some that just seem ok in the freejumping will jump better under saddle, but almost all who freejump really poorly will also jump poorly under saddle. It’s a good indicator, but not necessarily a be-all-end-all way to gauge talent.

They were looking for horses with safe forelimb technique, a good use of the body through the air, and an intelligence about how it went through the chute or learned from any mistakes. If the horse hit a jump, they wanted to see it come back through and be more careful. If he ran through and went past the distance, they wanted to see him come in the next time and slow himself down a bit, not just keep making the same mistakes. There were a few good horses, and a few bad ones, some who had never been freejumped, and some who had. Again, it was a good variety of experience and quality. Mattias urged the judges to watch the horse’s withers as they came through the chute – he wanted to see the horse raise its withers and round its topline over the fence, not just move its legs and stay flat/stiff in it’s back in the air.

I also have to mention that I was really impressed throughout both days with how well-prepared, well-handled, and well-presented Matt Bryner’s horses were. Super professional and mindful of the horses, and clearly someone who does the work at home to make sure they are successful at the shows. In a country where we generally have a lack of good young horse producers, he was a standout to me in this crowd.

It was a really educational day, and as a FEH participant and someone who brings up young horses, I got a lot of good tips for how to better prepare and show my horse. Definitely worth a long day sitting on the bleachers! I would recommend these educational symposiums to anyone from breeders to young horse owners to riders. This is a lot of the basic education that we’re missing in this country, and to be able to go get a crash course, see lots of nice horses, and hear from such a variety of professionals in one place is a really fantastic opportunity.