Heritage Horse Trails Novice XC 2011

In case you missed it...
               a walk around the Novice course at Heritage with Kat (the dog) leading

The horse eating bush monster.

Yet another, bushy monster.

4&5.  Five is the identical jump in the distance.

Up the Bank

Down the Bank and to the feeder.

A nice place to sit and rest.

Two stride combination.

This was the B to 12 A

Homeward Bound

Hedge Apples & Horse Apples: A Weekend at Heritage

There are so many things floating around in my head after our weekend at Heritage, but the most important is that we had a great time and ended the weekend sound and happy.  Our final score kind of stunk (my worst score ever at a recognized event), but it was still a weekend I feel very good about.  We improved in several areas and took baby steps forward instead of leaps back, but let’s begin at the beginning.

We survived the trip to Heritage Horse Park, nestled in the hustle and bustle of Olathe, KS.  No flat tires for me to struggle with on my own alongside five lanes of traffic.  *Big sigh of Relief*  Nutmeg was quite pleased with the location.  There were hedge apples everywhere.  All weekend long our walks consisted of dodging from one hedge apple to the next.  She was less pleased with her stall accommodations, but behaved herself well enough.  I quite enjoyed our front row stall with a great view and pleasant shade.  We were right across the drive from the secretary and just down the drive from the water and the manure pile.  It’s the little things in life.

We had a brief, but pleasant hack Friday afternoon before I headed out to scout out the cross country course.  I’m always amazed at how much bigger the jumps look when you’re walking around on foot.  The first fence struck me as quite the question.  It was beautiful, but with a big bush on either side and white stone underneath, it was, in my opinion an opposing first fence.  I wasn’t the least bit worried, because I was riding the wonder horse Nutmeg, a.k.a. – Braveheart or I don’t care what stuff looks like.  From there the course seemed to be a straight forward, pleasant ride.  They were still completing the new water complex and the hoses were trickling water in from several points.  I was slightly concerned that some horses would find the transition from the new black dirt to the new white gravel a bit disconcerting, but again, I wasn’t worried.  Nutmeg really doesn’t care what’s under her feet.  Back at the barn, Nutmeg slept through the braiding process and then it was off to bed for me.

My dear husband managed to arrive Saturday morning just in time to be the “Stud Man.”  He truly is my right hand at events and while I used to do everything myself quite happily, I cringed at the thought of trying to get through an event without his help.  Our dressage warm-up began well, but when we switched locations I got a bit tense and we lost our focus.  In true Nutmeg style, we marched right by the blue pop-up tent for the dressage judges.  The tree line, however, proved to be slightly disconcerting.  We put in a mediocre test.  I didn’t ride my figures precisely and everything was just a bit sloppy.  The upside was our canter work really has improved.  It’s still not great, but I didn’t feel I was riding a gal-lumping runaway elephant.  We also had a nearly square halt at the end, much improved from our stop, spraddle and swing sideways from earlier in the year.

Cross Country came quicker than I’m used to, but thankfully before it got terribly hot.  Warm-up was straight forward and we left the start-box in fine form.  Then the horse eating bushy tombstone monster fence loomed up into Nutmeg’s sight line.  The conversation went something like this. (Yes, I talk to my horses and pretend they talk back). 

Nutmeg: La-la-la.  Gullump, gullump.  La-la-la-what the heck is that!?!  That cannot be the jump you’re pointing me at.

Me: Yes, that’s the jump.

Nutmeg (in her best valley girl impression): Oh no it isn’t.  That…is a monster.

Me: So, you’re going to be scared, huh. (at this point I probably should have started using my stick)

Nutmeg: Yep.  Nutmeg does not like that.  No go!

Me: Shucks.  You stinker.  *Kur-pop* (the whip smacking her).  Yeah, that’s never happened before, but it will again if you don’t jump.  Now go.

Nutmeg: BUT I DON’T WANT TO!

Me: To bad.  *pop*

And over we went, although not with many style points.  Nutmeg wasn’t too thrilled with the coop around the corner either, but I was ready for battle by then and over we went.  Number three also got her attention and she got one last encouraging smack.  Then we were in our rhythm and ready to go.  I was very pleased with the way she handled the terrain (not a strong suit) and rebalanced.  She was brilliantly honest down the bank and over the following jump.  I had slipped my reins down the bank and hadn’t quite re-gathered them, but over she went.  Shortly there-after I realized our earlier refusal had put us behind time by quite a bit so we picked up the pace.  It was a good question for her.  We were headed down a gradual hill with a combination at the bottom.  Time to test that newly found rebalancing skill.  It wasn’t poster perfect, but better than I had feared and we jumped through in the prescribed two strides.  Then she pulled another new stunt.  She shied at an old jump in the tall grass.  Thankfully years of fox hunting on an Arab has given me a pretty sticky seat, so it wasn’t the end of the world. 

On to the water.  She was a little looky over the first roll-top, but I was zeroed in on the water.  She was zeroed-in, but it wasn’t on the water.  We got to the spot where black met white and began an entertaining crab walk around the edge and into the decorative grass.  Apparently that made things all better and in we went.  Nutmeg actually really likes the water so I took a moment to praise her and let her enjoy herself.  About then I realized I was now way behind time, so recess was over and on we went.  We picked the pace up just a touch over the next two jumps.  Then two jumps from home my watch started beeping.  We were late.  At that point it really didn’t matter much since we had added at least 20 and possibly 40 points to our not so hot dressage score, but it was a great excuse to try another experiment, jumping with a bit more pace.  And so we did.  We kicked it up a notch for the second from home, rebalanced for the final stone wall, then let ‘er rip.  Nutmeg is the first horse I’ve evented that “let ‘er rip” means leg-on as opposed to just loosening the death grip a bit.  I honestly wasn’t sure what I’d get, but was pleasantly surprised.  I always knew she could cover ground, but boy that was fun!  We were uphill and powerful and the best part was even though we were headed straight for the barns, when it was time to slow down, she happily obliged.  So we didn’t have a foot perfect trip, but we both returned to the barn happy and confident.

After a relaxing afternoon picnic and some further hedge apple chasing, we left Nutmeg behind her fan and set off to explorer the stadium course for tomorrow.  Stadium is on the grass on a decent side hill, so I was slightly concerned about our ability to negotiate the course well.  Looking at the course did nothing to ease my concerns.  It was very twisty with some serious balance and turning questions.  I was not anticipating a pretty outcome. 

Sunday morning they changed the course a bit, making the most difficult questions much more do-able.  If I had been sitting in 1^st place on my old horse, I would have been ticked, but with a fresh perspective and a less maneuverable animal I was jumping up and down with glee.  Nutmeg was feeling a bit tired which translates to less than cooperative, but in we went.  We picked up our canter and she turned off her listening.  I was once again gullumping around on the back of a non-responsive elephant.  Sure we were going to die if I did not regain some form of control, I started growling at her, which actually worked.  We put things back together and actually finished with some nice jumps.  Growling aside, it was a much better course with better rhythm and distances than at Longview.

We’ve got a lot of work to do, but then even if you end up on top at the end of the weekend, you’ve still got work to do.  It’s always onward and forward, an endless journey toward perfection, or at least toward the next challenge.  I could have done a lot of things differently, but I’m glad I made the choices I did.  We had a great time and learned some valuable lessons.  Now if I could only solve the mystery of the suddenly spooky horse.  Maybe there’s something in the hedge apples after-all…

A Packing We Shall Go, Part 2 – The Pony Club Boxes

Pony Club taught me a lot.  However, Pony Club did nothing to counter-act my tendency toward hoarding.  At a Pony Club Rally (show), kids are judged not just on their riding performance, but on their horse management skills as well.  Part of good horse management is having what you need and knowing how to use it, so Pony Club requires each team of kids to have an assortment of items that may prove handy.  It’s a long list containing everything from bug spray to an antibacterial/antimicrobial/antiseptic scrub.  Pony Club takes a lot of grief over these lists from both the kids who can’t fathom why they’d need a one lb. roll of 12” absorbent cotton and from the parents who fund the extensive list of items.  As for myself and my weird obsession with rule following, I loved “The List” and at one point could rattle off every item on it.  Now, in addition to the items required by Pony Club for so many years, I have my own “List” of items that live in my trailer.

Top Left Hand Drawer – Spares and Repairs (thus dubbed by my mother, although her’s is filled with items that can be used to fix things and mine is filled with things to replace broken or lost items).  Spare lead rope – check (although it’s always the more expensive halter that breaks), pair of stirrup leathers and irons – check (although I’ve never needed them on my saddle, the day will come.  A stirrup leather can also double as a belt if you’re desperate).  Extra billet guards – yep, now if I’d just put them on my saddle.  Lots and lots of spare rubber bands for peacock stirrups.  Fresh stirrup pads – for showing only, then the old discolored ones go back in.  I’d like to add a spare tire, but it just won’t fit.  Keeping a spare for your horse (i.e. set of your horse’s old horse shoes) is however, very do-able and a great idea.

Middle Left Hand Drawer – Horse First Aid

The most essential items in this kit are a stethoscope, thermometer with thong, clip and petroleum jelly and Schreiners (it’s an herbal wound care spray – awesome!).  Other really good items, alcohol (wound cleaning – not drinking, although occasionally that’s called for too), 4” sterile gauze squares,  2” roll of gauze, Vet wrap, bandage scissors (you can’t have too many), 1” roll of medical tape, Bute, electrolytes, and liniment.  I also like to keep “eye goo” handy.  In my world, “eye goo” constitutes a non-steroidal triple antibiotic in a little bitty tube with a long snout so you can get it in their eye.  The non-steroidal part is really important because you do not want to put steroids in an eye that might be scratched. Other people have suggested splinting material, Banamine, and other such items, but I figure if it’s that bad, I’m calling the vet.  With what I’ve got I’ll be able to piece something together until they get to us.  Speaking of piecing things together, drawer number three…

Bottom Left Hand Drawer – Bandaging

Okay, so my bandaging supplies actually take up more than one drawer.  In drawer number three you’ll find four mid-sized puffy leg quilts and four stretchy wraps, but there is a whole other box full of wrapping goodies.  It’s up in the gooseneck because I don’t use it very often, but it is a treasure chest of wrapping goddess goodness.  It’s got sheet cotton and cheese cloth so I can make my own wraps, saran wrap for sweat wraps, flannels, a large spider wrap and additional material, should I need to make a smaller one.  There is a roll of elasticon, some more vet wrap, an ace bandage or two and paper bags.  Plus the bandage box contains handy extras like more tape, more bandage scissors, and safety pins – the great big ones.  If it can be wrapped, we can wrap it!

Top Right Hand Drawer – Utility Kit 

This is the most robbed drawer and the drawer that I have to double check the most often.  It’s also probably the most used drawer and the least organized.  The Pony Club Utility Kit includes a hammer, nails, screwdriver (I got one of those nifty ones with multiple heads stored inside), pliers, scissors (yes more scissors), knife, leather punch, thumbtacks (for which I have no use, but some people use them to hang up schedules, I use a dry erase board), duct tape (if you only carry one thing besides your horse in the trailer, duct tape is the thing to carry) and two pony club pins.  As for the Pony Club pins, I obviously don’t need those anymore, but they are a good reminder to pack extras of small things that are easily misplaced or lost…like contacts, writing utensils and medical arm bands.  I’ve added an extension cord or two, double ended snaps (for hanging buckets if you forget your cool bucket hangers), and hay string – a great big ball of hay string.  I also keep my flashlight and fire extinguisher in the utility box.  It keeps the fire extinguisher from rolling around and I always know where to feel around for the flashlight in the dark.  I used to be very bad at remembering bungi cords for the fan, so there’s some in that drawer just in case.  Finally, some more duct tape.  No kidding, I think I have three rolls in there.  You can never have enough.

Middle Drawer on Right - Tack Cleaning

This one is totally up for debate.  Seems like everyone has their favorite items, toothpaste, Lexol, you name it.  My tack cleaning kit is actually a kit within a kit.  In the drawer you’ll find a cleaning hook and a drying basket, though I rarely get them out.  You’ll also find two old gallon ice cream buckets with a lid.  These are the heart of the tack cleaning kit.  I can soak bits and stirrups in one and fill the other with my wash water.  In the mean time, they hold my Castile soap, Never Dull, a baggie of dishwashing detergent, shoe polish and an assortment of sponges and rags.  I used to carry a small bottle of oil, but it kept leaking, so now I keep my oiling supplies at home.  Who’s really going to oil their tack at a show anyway???  When I get to the show, I can easily grab just the ice cream buckets and toss them in my trunk so my tack cleaning can be more portable.

Bottom Right Drawer – Human First Aid

I’m not sure I’ve ever used anything from the human first aid kit at a horse show.  I have however robbed it on several occasions working around the barn.  Putting a nail through your finger with an air-nailer calls for at least a band-aid.  Besides band-aids, there is triple antibiotic cream, rubber gloves, sunscreen and bug spray.  To me, the rubber gloves are pointless, I’d rather touch blood and guts than put them on, but for the safety/health conscious they are available.  I’ve also tossed in some more ace wraps and a couple of those instant ice packs, plus my favorite human first aid item – new skin patches.  I don’t know what they are actually called, but they breathe like skin, yet keep water and other irritants out.  They are terrific on rubs and blisters and were a life saver when I spread-eagled an oxar and took all the skin off my back.  Of course they weren’t in the kit then.  We had to make a special trip to the store.  Now they are a permanent fixture.

That’s probably way more than you ever wanted to know about the black drawers in my trailer that double as steps to the gooseneck.  The moral of the long winded list, while duct tape and hay string will fix most things, if you want to travel with your horses with confidence and not beg and borrow when things don’t go as planned, you’re going to need a lot of stuff!

A Packing We Shall Go!

I don’t need to pack.  Really I don’t.  Thanks to a mother that carries everything (including a sink) in her trailer and many many years of Pony Club rallies (shows) and ratings, I have everything I could need neatly organized in my trailer.  Hence, I don’t need to devote a day to packing before heading to an event.  Yet, last night found me in my trailer for several hours “packing” for our trip to Heritage at the end of the week.

So, if everything I need is in my trailer already, what was I doing?  Ritualizing…that’s my word for it, others might say I’m giving into my obsessive compulsive streak.   It just doesn’t seem right to load-up and go, not after all the years when I spent a week cleaning and labeling and organizing vet kits and first aid kits and cleaning kits and hardware kits, making stall cards and feed charts, weighing grain and supplements with a kitchen scale...  It just seems too easy now and when things are easy, I tend not to appreciate them to their fullest.  So, while I did give-up on the labeling with four different identifiers per piece of equipment, I always feel compelled to spend some quality time with all that “stuff” before heading to a show. 

If you're wondering, what's the point?  Here’s a humorous and hopefully educational look at what’s in my trailer… Part 1...

We’ll start by opening the door to the people part and heading left.  Just inside the door there’s a handy dandy catch all.  It’s got cookies (the horse kind), water bottles, clipper spray (who knows why), my favorite detangler, occasionally my keys (shush…don’t tell would be robbers-although I can never find them, so I’m probably safe), and an assortment of trash (I said it was organized – not clean).  Behind that I keep a dressage whip, rarely used but sometimes necessary when loading Miss Nutmeg or other slightly reluctant passengers.  It is also useful for fending off above mentioned robber...

My saddle racks are in that corner (it’s a slant trailer * sigh * oh how I wish I’d held out for a straight load) and behind them I tuck away the pitch fork (It’s blue of course.  Blue even makes manure look better).  I store my muck bucket and water buckets below the saddle racks and no, even when I’m only taking one horse, I don’t unload the extra set of buckets.  

Next comes the “tack” wall.  It’s almost like walking into a used tack store.  There’s a hook for longing equipment, a hook for each horses bridle, breastplate, and girth, and a hook for each horse’s trailering gear (leather halter, lead rope, fly mask, and for Nutmeg a head-bumper).   Then there are several hooks with spare equipment, bridals from past horses, girths from past horses, random bits, extra martingales, and my husband’s helmet, plus an assorment of polo wraps.  In the winter my blanket bucket sits below the tack wall so it’s easily accessible.  Right now, my shoes are there.  You can never take to many pairs to an event.  Walk around cross country once in a pair that don’t fit well and you’ll quickly be switching to a different pair.  They may not fit well either, but at least they’ll hurt in a different place.

My show trunk is a doozey and this is where some of my ritualizing (obsessing) time comes into play.  Depending on the show type and which horse or horses are going, I repack some of the items in the trunk and put the others into storage.  Standing leg wraps and a sheet (blanket) are common items that are swapped out depending on the horse.  I always keep my studs, stall guard, coggins papers and rule books, cross-country bat, stadium crop, braiding kit, and my bridle rack in my trunk.  There is a removable tray in which I keep the show prep essentials like baby wipes, hoof polish, baby powder, ace bandage, baby oil and detangler.  It also houses my Big Yellow Watch, cross-country helmet cover, a writing utensil and old halter numbers from past events.  It’s not that I’m overly sentimental (actually I am, but that’s an aside), a friend of mine and eventer extrordinar showed me the trick of saving them and then turning them over at the next event and writing your new number on the backside.  That way you can keep one number on your bridle and one on your halter and you don’t have to worry about switching them back and forth constantly (at Events, horses aren’t permitted out of their stalls without their number).  This practice is becoming more difficult though, due to many events recollecting the numbers.  At least they’re trying to keep costs down.  If there is room, my helmet, boots and the horses grooming kit go in as well, but that’s a big “If”.

Whew…that’s a lot of stuff and I haven’t even scratched the surface.  I think this is going to be a weeklong series.  Feel free to ask questions if you are wandering why I have this stuff or are wondering what the point is.  There is a purpose and probably a story behind every item.  Until next time, happy packing and give your tack box or trailer a fresh perspective.

The Rest of the Story (that's not copywrited...is it?)

So many people have been asking about how the actual horse part of the Longview Schooling went, I figured I had better post something.

We took four horses, Nutmeg, Admiral, Trixie and Spice – Nutmeg’s half sister.  It was the first cross country outing for Trixie and Spice and their respective riders.  My darling husband gave Admiral a nice hack for me and took pictures (yes, brownie points were scored on a grand scale).  I, of course, rode Nutsy. 

 Spice thought things were a bit interesting, but really took to cross-country well.  She got bolder as the day progressed, showed nice balance on the hills, and tried hard to follow in her half-sister’s footsteps, until we got to the water.  Spice is a great example of why foals should be given turnout.  She has lived a sheltered life and though she is on 24 hour turn-out now, lack of exposure as a youngster has apparently left her petrified of big puddles.  Even though the water complex is very inviting at Longview, Spice was truly terrified.  With much patient coaxing, we did eventually get her feet wet.  We called that a true triumph and will be taking every opportunity to expose her to water for the foreseeable future.  It will take time, but she’ll come around with patience.

Trixie was the comic relief for the day.  You have to understand that she is not a highly motivated horse.  She isn’t scared, she just doesn’t have a lot of naturally occurring motor, especially when she could be standing still and eating instead.  I don’t think Trixie even flicked an ear at any of the jumps, but it was quite a chore to rev up her engine enough to make going over the jump easier than stopping in front of the jump.  The hay bales offered us particular amusement as Trixie seemed to grad a snack mid-air.  She’s got lots of hang-time anyway, so why not take advantage of a mid-flight snack?

Admiral quite enjoyed the privilege of coming along.  He really likes to feel important.  I keep trying to motivate him to bravery by dangling the promise of returning to prince status in front of his ever so soft nose.  However, while his habit of finding footprints scary remains, he’ll remain second in line for the throne which means he doesn’t get to go as many places.  Unlike Nutmeg, he really likes to travel and be fussed over, he just doesn’t like actually performing much.  Long story short, a walk around the park with view demands was his idea of a perfect day.

I was quite pleased with Nutmeg.  I made some mistakes, mainly just not getting things together.  Story of my life.  We warmed-up over several novice fences one at a time.  My next plan was to jump the novice tiger trap then circle around, down the hill to what I thought was the novice table that had been relocated and then follow that up with a friendly training oxer made of big inviting logs.  I was slightly preoccupied heading toward the table since we had lost our balance coming down the hill and I was trying to renegotiate for a happy canter.  Several strides out I noticed that instead of flat boards across the front of the table, this one had rounded boards.  Apparently it wasn’t the table I thought it was.  Well, we’ll jump it anyway, just with a bit more pace.  About four strides out, I began having second thoughts.  It was looking quite large.   Three strides out, I was saying not nice things in my head.  Two strides out I took an enormous breath because I knew it was way too late to chicken out.  One stride and an extra long take off, we were air born for quite a while then landed and galloped on with a pounding heart a whoop and a holler. 

The training oxer to follow was going to be easy as pie.   After that, I was better about examining my fences closely before venturing toward them (I preach that practice all the time, to look for holes and what-not, shame on me for not heeding my own advice).  Nutmeg jumped through the half coffin in style.  Managed the corner, although her pilot could have done a better job.  We jumped up the bank and down the bank, played thoroughly in the water and learned we could fit between two very close together trees.  I decided to do the skinny in the tree line with an easy left exit.  We did not have a good approach.  We were not well balanced and were going to arrive at a very bad spot.  Even though I was seeing a disaster unfolding I didn’t let my left wall down, so Nutmeg decided to save us by diving through the trees on the right.  I lost my stirrup rubber band and picked up some bark, but darn it, I rode her better then next time.  She’ll teach me yet.  We finished the day over a mini course including a novice fence we didn’t do well at the event and two training fences.  She was a champ.

All around, it was a very successful outing.  Everyone left with sound horses and smiles.  I was reminded of some skills we need to improve and we feel prepped and ready to take on Heritage!   

Reputation for Trouble

“Concealed talent brings no reputation.” – Desiderius Erasmus

“You guys should be in a NASCAR Pit Crew.”  That’s what the cheery MFA worker told us Wednesday morning as my husband was wiping tire residue on his blue jeans.  “Yeah, well, we’ve had a bit of experience.” 

With a trailer load of four horses, we were on our way to practice our cross country skills at Longview Horse Park.  When we stopped for gas, we noticed two of the trailer wheels were looking a bit low on air.  Being the safety conscious types, we decided to air up a bit before getting back on the road.  You know the light hiss sound the valve makes when you’re filling up, well the back tire kept making that noise, even after we were done filling it up.  HISSSSSSS.  Bingo…leaky tire.  At least it wasn’t a blow-out and we weren’t on the highway and we had air right there for the spare, and it wasn’t raining…yet.

I popped my head in the truck to inform our passengers of the situation, then we began the well rehearsed routine of trailer tire changing.  Loosen the lug nuts.  Grunt. Drive up the ramp.  Horses -stomp, stomp, stomp.  (Even though this was Nutmeg’s fifth flat, she still doesn’t like them)  Loosen the lug nuts the rest of the way.  Remove tire.  Umph.  Remove spare.  Put spare in place.  Cuss.  Screw on lug nuts.  Insert dirty joke or comment about the weather.  Hoist dead tire into place and secure.  Pull a muscle.   Drive off ramp.  Horses stomp some more.  Tighten lug nuts.  Groan and Grunt.  Tighten lug nuts again.  Look for someplace to wipe your extremely dirty appendages.

We have it down to a science, but I was surprised that our passengers didn’t get out of the truck to watch our Mad Skills or simply to stretch their legs during the wait.  When we got back on the road we learned why.  “So, your reputation for tire troubles is true.  Glad we got that out of the way.” 

Come on, this wasn’t even my truck and trailer.  Can’t I leave a little thing like four flats in two years behind me!  After all, I’m hitting fifty/fifty.  Two truck blow-outs, two trailer miss-haps and of course there have been a few trips where blessedly nothing went wrong, but no one remembers those because they don’t make good stories, speaking of which, this one isn’t done.

We made it to our destination in plenty of time, had a delightful day, loaded up and headed home. Thump, thwack, thwack, thwack.  “That’s a tire isn’t it?”  Oh yeah, tire number two.  Thankfully, I knew there was a gas station with an air pump just up the road (knowledge from a previous tire experience).  We pulled in and checked how much air was left in the leaky tire.  It seemed to be holding at 40, far below what it should be, but enough to allow us to limp along home.  So, grunt, stomp, stomp, umph, cuss, comment on the weather (it still isn’t raining, though there was a 70% chance), pull another muscle, stomp, groan and grunt and back on the road we go.

When the vehicle started shaking suspiciously, we got quite concerned.  One tire, all in a day’s work.  Two tires, not unheard of, but a third tire would spell disaster.   I’m sure there were some whispered prayers as we traveled the reaming sixty miles or so, all the while expecting another tire to go.  I was even believing my own reputation for tire trouble.  Someone was looking out for us because we did make it home without further major incident.

For most people, that would have been a disaster of a trip.  Two flats could have easily ruined their day, but me, well, I was just living up to my reputation and showing off my husband’s concealed talent for changing tires.  A Fresh Perspective on Tire Trouble Taken.

Heritage Bound

It begins again.  The up and down of nerves.  The obsessive check for bumps, nicks, cuts, scrapes, swellings, shoes.  The constant pressure to get in one more productive ride, five more strides of that nice trot, two more strides of the newly found bouncy canter.  Its pressure and I love it.

I have never needed extra motivation to ride.  But life gets a little bit busy and while I still don’t need motivation to ride, I find myself needing motivation to ride well and to ride better.  It’s easy to make steady improvement when you’ve got a coach watching each stride, reminding you to keep your wrists straight, eyes-up, and shoulders back.  They’re on the ground watching those subtle changes, like the curve you develop in your spine from too much time in a desk chair.  But when you ride by yourself, after a full day of work, it’s easy to go through the motions and be happy.

Horses have a way of taking the edge off.  People at the barn have probably noticed I’m a lot easier to talk with after I’ve ridden.  This calming sensation is great for my social life, but not as helpful for our continued improvement.  It’s way too easy to be pleased with one stretchy circle and walk.  I need something to spur me on (no pun intended) and make me ride a couple extra transitions for good measure.  That’s where the pressure comes into play.

When we are entered in an upcoming event, I seem to be able to push forward.  I demand more of myself and therefore more of my horses.  I have an excuse to be tuff and to put the horses higher up on the priority list.  It’s a shame that I can’t seem to do that every day of the year.  My pocketbook certainly would prefer the self-disciplined approach.

It’s not that I haven’t tried either.  Creating a plan of attack, setting goals, studying exercises from all the greats.  I know how to do it, but darn that implementation is hard.  Of course, excuses are easy to come by.  Work was really stressful.  It’s quite hot.  Nutmeg feels a little stiff.  It would be so much easier if I didn’t have to drive two hours round trip.  I’ve used them all, but in truth there is no excuse.  It isn’t fair to my equine friends to demand top performance one week and nothing more than a polite hack the next.

So, I’m taking a not so fresh perspective.  I’m setting up my goals, again.  I’m planning out my exercise to get us there, again.  I’m tracking our progress in my record book (yes my Pony Club friends, I still keep one).  We’re going to get better.  I’m going to get my old form back.  We’re doing those few more strides in the bouncy canter and a few more transitions for kicks and giggles.  We’re Heritage bound.  The pressure is on and we love it.