Battling Post-Holiday Blues

Well, Christmas has come and gone.  There is so much anticipation, a whirlwind of activities and then poof, it is back to life as usual.  It reminds me of the show season.  I spend a month making lists, planning, practicing, and packing, then we spend a crazy weekend showing and back to work on Monday.  At least with Christmas everyone shares the excitement. 

I have found that the best way to counter the post-holiday/horseshow blues is to start anticipating the next adventure.  So instead of reflecting on what has been a truly wonderful year full of blessings in every shape and size, let’s look forward to the year to come.

The United Nations has deemed 2014 the “International Year of Family Farming & Crystallography.”  It is exciting that the local producer may finally be getting some credit for the tireless effort they put in every day of the year.  Crystallography studies how things are put together on a molecular level.  It’s a fascinating subject.  If you think a flying lead change is difficult, look around you.  The world is far, far more complicated than you would ever guess.

In the Sporting World, the Winter Olympics will be held in Russia from February 7^th to the 23^rd.  Rolex (the United States’ only 4 Star Event) takes place April 23^rd through the 27^th in Kentucky and the Alltech FEI World Equestrian Games will be held in Normandy, France, August 23^rd to September 7^th.

Technological advances are often mind boggling.  In 2014, expect to see a cure for baldness, breakthroughs in cancer treatment by either starving specific cancer cells or targeting them directly, and electricity generation using heat and light, possibly evening powering your phone without a charger.  Scientists are trying to be more ecofriendly and use nature to fight nature instead of introducing chemical pesticides.  Saving the rainforest?  They are working on that too.  Now with an environmental friendly process they can make fast growing softwood take on the properties so desired in hardwood.  Remember LaForge from Star Trek?  Allowing the blind to see using a computer may just go from science-fiction to reality in 2014.  Learn more here.

With all the events and advances, 2014 is sure to fly by, but the year will be what you make of it.  At Fresh Perspective Farm, we’re still building fence (well, any day the temperatures break the freezing mark).  There are so many projects to be undertaken.  Last year we somehow managed to find a healthy mix of progress and relaxation.  I hope we will find that balance again in the coming year.  The horses are still snuggled warm in the rugs, but dreams of the upcoming season are beginning to bud.  May you and your fuzzy friends enjoy a little down time as you look forward to the year to come.

 

Zen Horses

A Facebook friend recently posted “10 Thoughts on Zen.”  It struck a chord deep inside of me and I printed them out for future contemplation.  As with most things I print, I tucked it behind my computer and quickly forgot about it.  Thank goodness for desk cleaning!  A quick re-read revealed why I liked it so much.  It wasn’t about Zen at all.  It was a study of horses!  So without further ado…

1. Zen is not about eliminating thoughts but illuminating them. – Gerald May

Riding is not about eliminating thoughts but illuminating them.  We should not seek to destroy the horse’s spirit and instincts, but teach them to use those gifts for mutual enjoyment.

2. Zen is not some kind of excitement but concentration on our usual everyday routine. – Shanryu Suzuki

Riding is not some kind of excitement but concentration on our usual everyday routine.  This sets amazing riders apart from average riders.  Concentrating on doing the simple everyday things exceptionally makes winning an everyday possibility.

3. The ultimate standpoint of Zen is that…the peace we are seeking so eagerly has been there all the time. – D.T. Suzuki

The ultimate standpoint of riding is that…the peace we are seeking so eagerly has been there all the time.  Quit fidgeting and fixing and messing and just ride.  You cannot create peace with activity.

4. The beauty of Zen is found in simplicity and tranquility, in a sense of the all – embracing harmony of things. – Thich Thien-An

The beauty of horses is found in simplicity and tranquility, in a sense of the all – embracing the harmony of things.  If you ask any horse person where they find calm in the hubbub of their hectic life, many will say, “in the barn, when the horses are tucked in and munching on their hay.”  In that humble, tranquil setting life is as it should be.

5. The whole point of Zen is to suspend the rules we have superimposed on things and to see the world as it is. – Alan Watts

The whole point of time with horses is to suspend the rules we have superimposed on things and to see the world as it is.  They show us how the world should be, not what it is.  They are the ideal.  Forgiving, fair, centered.

6. Before enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water.  After enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water. – Zen Buddhism

So this one can be read as is.  Whether you’re at the beginning of your equestrian pursuits or a pro, you’re going to do a lot of stall cleaning and carrying water or posting trot with no stirrups.

7. Zen: If you try to aim for it, you are turning away from it. – Anonymous

Horses, if you are trying to catch them, they will turn tail and walk away.  Okay, maybe that’s not what they meant.  You’ve heard the saying about sand slipping through your fingers if you try and hold it too tight.  With horses you have to be a bit fluid.  Set goals.  Make plans, but don’t hold to them to tightly or you’ll lose them completely.

8. Zen is not thinking about God while peeling potatoes.  Zen is just about peeling the potatoes. – Modern Saying

Riding is not thinking about riding.  Riding is just riding.  If you get too caught up in the theory and thinking you can paralyze your ability to react to the moment.

9. The only Zen you can find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there. – Robert M. Pirsig

The only success you’ll find in riding is the success you earn by doing it correctly every day.

10. There is no need to have a deep understanding of Zen. – Shunryu Suzuki

I’ll admit it.  I didn’t get this at first.  I’m an academic.  I want to understand everything, but then I realized that some things are beyond understanding.  Take for example the idea of infinity.  We know what it is but we have very little understanding of it.  You don’t have to know everything about horses to enjoy all they have to offer.

There you have it.  A Fresh Equine Perspective on The Ten Thoughts on Zen.  I can make anything about horses, just ask my husband.

“10 Thoughts on Zen” originally appeared at Mind Fuel Daily.com.

“10 Thoughts on Zen.” Mind Fuel Daily. 1 Nov. 2013 http://www.mindfueldaily.com/. 

Dance Baby!

“He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; One cannot fly into flying.”

-          Friedrich Nietzsche

Fresh Perspective Farm just grew a bit.  Actually, we more than doubled our size in one fell swoop!  We weren’t planning on putting out a large chunk of change for the land on our northern border, but it was suddenly up for sale and we simply couldn’t resist.  The acquisition means more pasture, insulation from neighbors, and a whole lot of work.  There is old fence to be ripped out and new fence to be built.  It puts all our other projects and dreams on the backburner, but there is no complaining.  We are very, very blessed to be able to expand.

A lack of space might be a farm owner’s biggest fear.  When you have to limit your dreams to the square acreage you are sitting on, it can be difficult to see future dreams become reality.  Now we have the space to dream a bit. 

Planning comes next.  How can we best utilize this space to achieve our dreams?  What must we bite off now?  What can we chew on later?  For dreams to come true, plans have to be implemented step-by-step.

Seems like I’m doing a lot of foundation laying right now.  We’re working on building fence and Nutmeg and I are working on building muscle.  Like a water drip that slowly builds a stalagmite, each post we pound and each transition I ride slowly carries us toward our ultimate goals.  It’s difficult to see an efficient, safe and beautiful horse farm when you look at the wild thicket we are starting with.  Just as it’s hard to imagine Nutmeg successfully competing in the upper levels when we’re spending the winter doing simple walk-trot-walk-halt-walk transitions.  Before you can dance, you have to sweat a lot learning to walk and run.

This is the Month of Thankfulness and while I’d like to say I’m thankful each and every day, I don’t always express it well.  So, thank you for reading.  Thank you to each person who has helped us along our path.  Building the barn and house and now expanding has been such an overwhelming undertaking.  We couldn’t even stand when we started.  Now we are so close to flying.  The same goes to all of you that have supported my equestrian pursuits over the years.  We’ve come a long way from a pony on the back porch with an upside down saddle to where we are now.  Flying is so close, but our dance steps still need some work.  Thank you for the daily Fresh Perspectives that keep us growing.  Thank you for showing us the steps. 

 

Finding Our Carrying Power

It was a truly enlightening and enjoyable weekend.  The volunteers that worked so hard to put on the 2013 edition of the Heritage Park Horse Trials out did themselves again this year.  The event ran like clockwork and I heard very few complaints.

Personally we had a lovely weekend.  Nothing we did was outstanding, but we were consistently better in all three phases.  It may not be showing up in our score or placing yet, but I can feel our hard work paying off and the discerning observer can see the subtle changes.

I never thought I’d say it, but dressage might have been the highlight of the weekend.  It wasn’t an earth shattering test and honestly after our first canter trot transition it all fell to pieces, but for the first time I had a ridable canter.  I didn’t feel like I was on an unbalanced runaway freight train.  I was riding a bendable fairly balanced horse!  It was a huge mental victory for us.

We are still a little slow across country, but we’re getting close to the pace and fitness we need.  I didn’t ride Nutmeg in as uphill of balance as I should have, but we got around safely.  Actually, apart from a hairy near stop looking into the backwards trakenher, Nutmeg galloped around like a pro.  She wasn’t super bold into the water, but it was a heck of a lot better than then skidding plop we made last year.  She pulled up with less sweat than many of the lower level horses and her breathing returned to normal quickly.

 

We put in our first double clear show jumping round.  Another big victory!  We tapped the first fence significantly when I pushed for long, but got a chip.  The rails amazingly stayed up and it served as a great wakeup call that helped us put it together for the rest of the course.  I couldn’t be more pleased with Nutmeg’s effort over the weekend.

That being said, it was a challenging weekend for me mentally.  My husband and super groom let slip that some people are expecting us to keep climbing the ladder.  I feel like we’re struggling to just safely compete at our current level.  I ticked off the numerous reasons we can’t even consider moving up - ever.  I don’t know if he voiced those concerns to others or if life just has a way of telling you what you need to hear but the next day I was handed our road map.

Right now, we are missing our carrying power.  However, we are on the road to finding it.  Like playing Sorry, we just have to keep drawing cards and moving spaces.  Sometimes we will move forward.  Sometimes we have to choose to move backward in order to put ourselves in a better position for future forward movement.  We are going to spend the winter doing transition.  Forward, back, forward, back.  Each transition will help build the muscles which will allow us to lift upward.  Upward is where we are headed one twenty to thirty minute night time ride at a time.

I really struggle with wanting to do it all, but realizing the life I’ve chosen won’t let me.   This weekend I was reminded that I can excel at what I choose to do.  So, from the weekend my Fresh Perspective is to find a finer focus.  We can accomplish more in thirty minutes of concentrated practice then in a hour of unstructured recreating.   When you don’t have much time, you have to make every second count. 

 

100 Reasons We Play the Game

“This is ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will.  Five percent pleasure.  Fifty percent pain and a hundred percent reason to remember the name.”
                                                                                                                 - Fort Minor
                                                                     

Eventing is hard work.  A rider will spend weeks if not months of their life practicing the basics and honing their skills.  Even more time is spent maintaining the horse’s welfare through grooming, feeding, mucking etc.  There is time spent on tack.  Time spent on the facility and other equipment.  Eventers are invested in their passion.

Yet no matter how much time and money is sunk into the pursuit, lady luck has her say.  There are too many variables for anything to ever be a given.  A horse can go lame, slip in the stabling, or just have a bad day.  You can forget a movement, skip a fence, even stay up to late cleaning tack.

The wind might blow.  The skies may open up and pour or even snow, but Eventers ride on.  The post office has nothing on what Eventers will endure.  What keeps us going?

It isn’t something that can be put into words.  The partnership, the bond, the accomplishment, the progress, the adrenalin, the comradery, the peace, the fun, the heartbreak, the hope, the knowledge that you can always do it a little bit better but knowing what you did today is enough.  There are a hundred reasons we play this game.

We’re headed to our final event of the season this weekend.  It’s going to be cold.  It’s been hard to ride in the wet, chili, dark rain of the past couple of weeks.  Regardless, the trailer is packed, the tack is cleaned (well it will be before Saturday morning), and Nutmeg and I are eagerly awaiting our Friday departure.  We’d love to see you there.  They always need volunteers!

 

 

All Kinds of Kinds

Imagine a world where we are judged only for our actions, not for our affiliations.  Better yet, imagine a world without affiliations or stereotypes.   A world that requires time spent for the opinions gained.  It isn’t a world for the lazy.

I am so frustrated with our country, my friends, my neighbors, my family, and even myself.  In an effort to speed along to our pleasures, we have given up the art of debate, replacing it with name calling and finger pointing.  We have become so ensconced in fitting into the little boxes we have created; we are no longer able to see from someone else’s shoes.

What happened to our statesmen?  Defined as “a usually wise, skilled and respected government leader, one versed in the principles or art of government, one actively engaged in conducting the business of a government or in shaping its policies.”  We are all called to be statesmen because we live in a democracy, but somewhere along the line it became too difficult.  It is so much easier to name ourselves as Democrat or Republican, Liberal or Conservative and then let that party tell us what we believe.  Trouble is, sometimes we don’t quite agree with some overarching belief, but we’ve been labeled and there is no room for gray in a black and white barcode.

And we really like our barcodes and labels.  A Thoroughbred is fast and hot.  A Warmblood is slow and dumb.  A Quarter Horse is good for moving cows, but a bit thick.  An Arab is flighty.  Ponies are ornery.  Not a horse person?  Pitbulls are aggressive.  Cats are aloof.  Family people drive minivans.  Motorcycle riders like leather and my Facebook status can tell you anything you need to know about me.

Why are we so stuck on our labels?  When something challenges one of our self-given labels we attack and defend as if our vary identity was at stake.  In a way it is.  We no longer take the time to cultivate who we truly are and what we truly believe.  Instead we go grocery shopping… “Oh, I like spaghetti, bananas, freedom of choice, big government that can protect me, low taxes…”  But even that takes time and thought, so “Just give me the value bundle.”  I might not like everything that’s included, but who cares, you’re bound to get some bad with the good, right?

If you walk up to someone on the street and ask them what they think of stereotypes, they will probably tell you they are horrible.  But if you include them in a stereotype that they find favorable, they probably wouldn’t even consider it a stereotype, just an affiliation they are proud to promote.  That said, personally, I’d much rather have dinner with you, then give you the opportunity to judge me by a sign in my front yard.

That’s the heart of the matter.  We love to judge.  We love to judge others and we love to judge ourselves against others.  I realize this entire rant is judgmental.  I just ask that you seek a Fresh Perspective, a deeper perspective.  We’ve been taught not to judge a book by the cover, but we’re all too happy to let others judge us by our “Likes”, our statuses, our hash tags, and our affiliations.  Because when we feel like we have been judged unfairly, we can retort with, “They were stereotyping me.”  However, it is only unfair, if it’s untrue.  Are you more than your label?  Can you stand without your barcode backing you up?

Miranda Lambert has a beautiful song out called All Kinds of Kinds.  The chorus claims, “Ever since the beginning, to keep the world spinning, it takes all kinds of kinds.”  It’s just as true today as it was the day this country was founded.  None of us have all the answers.  Brainstorming works best with a diverse and unhampered group.  The answers are there, we just have to peel off all our labels to find them.

 

Let's all Say, "Olé!"

I have a pretty incredible job.  I get to travel all around a thirteen county area meeting neat folks and getting unique perspectives on a wide variety of events.  It’s humbling, fascinating and inspiring on an almost weekly basis.  Last week was a fine example.

I traveled to a school located in a town of 465.  They have less than a person per acre in town, but they host a big festival each fall.  This year, thanks to a grant, they were able to bring world renowned, Flamenco Guitarist, Ronald Radford to their school for a student presentation. 

Normally I get to the event well before it begins and have to leave about the time things get underway, but this time, I got to stay.  In fact, I had no option.  I was set-up in the gym where the assembly was taking place and to leave would have been downright rude. 

I should mention that on this particularly day, I was struggling.  It was an early morning appointment, requiring me to get to work a bit early.  The equipment hadn’t been put away properly.  The company car was left on empty.  The phone was being extremely combative.  The list just kept growing and here I was stuck in a school assembly.  I’m really glad I was.  It was time for a Fresh Perspective.

Ronald Radford grew up in Oklahoma.  He went through several instruments before settling on the six string guitar.  With each instrument, the more he practiced, the better he got.  Finally he came to the revelation that, “You get good at what you practice.”  Ground breaking, I know.

He pursued his passion to New York and then across the ocean to Spain.  He spent time amongst the gypsies and learned their folk music.  While he was at it, he also learned their philosophy on life.  For them, life’s main goal is to find out what you are good at and then find a way to make a living doing it.  What a lovely outlook.  I never knew I had a gypsy soul.

The more Mr. Radford spoke and the more he played, the more I was drawn into his story.  Then he taught the students about “Olé,” the Spanish cheering word.  Olé doesn’t have much of a definition, so he came up with an acronym.  Olé: Optimistic Leadership Energy!  Each word describes the Spanish Gypsy culture.  They are very positive thinking.  They don’t wait for others to step-in.  If they see a way they can help, they get to it.  Finally, they are just bursting with life.  Now I have two reasons for visiting Andalusia.  The first, of course, being the horses.

I don’t know how much of the presentation the students took to heart.  The young ones certainly enjoyed clapping along with the music.  I found it to be refreshing and a great reminder.  First, practice what you want to get good at, whether it’s riding your horse or being an optimistic energetic leader in your field.  Then, find something you are good at and enjoy doing, and make it your life’s work and passion.  If you are pursuing your passion daily, it’s a lot easier to find that energy and optimism each and every day.

The best part is, it doesn’t matter who you are, how old you are, or what you are doing, if you can adopt the Olé attitude you are going to be better off.  Taking out the trash?  Do it well and do it happily.  That piddily job at work no one wants to do?  Take the initiative, show leadership.  That canter depart that eludes you?  Practice, practice, practice.  The next time I face a day where my energy is lacking or my enthusiasm is waning, I’m going to find that Gypsy Fresh Perspective.  Olé! Olé!  Olé!

Learning to Learn

“If we let ourselves, we shall always be waiting for some distraction or other to end before we can really get down to our work.  The only people who achieve much are those who want knowledge so badly that they seek it while the conditions are still unfavorable.  Favorable conditions never come.”

-          C.S.Lewis

We weren’t “ready” for Kentucky.  Our dressage was sketchy.  Our fitness was lacking.  We missed a week and a half of preparation due to a lost shoe, but we went anyway.  We survived and we came out better for the experience.

We had a worry free trip to Kentucky. I was very lucky that my mom could drop everything and make the trip with me.  Tackling an eight and a half hour drive by myself is not on my bucket list.  Although she has always said she does not enjoy watching me gallop down to solid fences that are above my belly button, she agreed to keep me company and keep me safe.

Our dressage was not as horrid as it could have been.  Nutmeg is still protesting when I ask her to carry herself in the canter, but we made our fifteen meter circles without leaping about or jumping out of the arena.  I was the first horse in the ring, which probably helped our score a bit, but it got me in a bit of a tizzy and I lost my bungee arms.  Our relaxation and suppleness suffered.  We’ll do better next time.  I’m still learning to find my center before heading down center line.

I am bursting with pride over Nutmeg’s cross country trip.  We had a lot of time penalties.  Almost a refusals worth, but I knew we weren’t fit and it was terribly hot.  I just didn’t have the horse to make time.  The way she jumped though still has me grinning.  She is learning!  We had one looong distance at the second fence, a very rampy pheasant feeder.  Other than that, she really jumped well.  I was a tad worried about a drop to a small half coop, since we are still landing in a bit of a heap.  She hopped down and on a loose rein cantered out over the coop like a pro.  The next fence was a galloping steeplechase brush fence.  She pinned it with her ears, picked up the pace and galloped over it beautifully.  The corner was a no brainer.  For the log before the water that everyone had been tripping over, she came back to me happily and bounded over it in great form.  The Jolly Green Giant that I made the mistake of walking right up to on the course walk (it was up to the bottom of my bra and wider than I can spread my arms, somehow it was legally a training fence) jumped great.  I knew it would if I didn’t pick at her, but dang it was big!  Next thing was the question that had me most concerned.  Just like at Catalpa, it was a two stride half coffin, except this time the ditch was big enough I didn’t think we could snake across it safely if things went poorly.  Well, Miss Nutmeg is learning to learn.  She practically backed herself up coming to the rails, popped over them smoothly, two nice strides and over the ditch.  No big deal.  Except it was.  She’s learning and that is so exciting! 
The only other real question for us was the trakehner.  In its defense, it’s probably the friendliest trakehner I’ve ever seen.  I knew if I could just slowly my fear, Nutmeg wouldn’t even know there was a ditch underneath the log.  I felt a little silly, but I found a tree I could stare it during my course walk.  I turned the corner, lifted my eyes to the tree tops, put my leg on and prayed.  She didn’t bat an eye.  I only need to jump that jump about fifty more times before I’ll learn to trust the big red head.

After that it was all downhill, but I still had to nurse her home.  Pulling up after the finish line I realized just how truly hot she was.  Shame on my for not having her fitter, but I’m not sure what more I could have done.  I spent a long time cooling her down thoroughly.  I’ve never had a horse that wasn’t naturally fit or hadn’t been super fit and one point in its past.  Lesson learned.  With Nutmeg, I’m going to have to do some honest to goodness conditioning.  Bring on the hills!

I pampered Nuthead the best I could between Saturday afternoon and show jumping Sunday.  We did lots of grazing and lots of chilling back at the stall.  I knew when I got on Sunday that I had a very tired horse.  But she was loose and sound and I felt we could jump safely.  She has come so far.  In the past when she got tired, she became stiff and belligerent.  Although we didn’t have a beautiful round, she stayed compliant.  I did not ride consistently.  The two rails were my fault.  I dropped my contact at the base of the fence.  I spent quite some time studying the video from show jumping.  Unfortunately, my rails were on the far side of the arena, but watching the video frame by frame was quite interesting.  Certainly a good learning tool.

The most disturbing part of the weekend occurred while watching stadium.  A young girl came up to her (presumably) grandma and was quite upset.  Apparently she thought she was too fast on cross country so she circled several times.  She ended up with time faults that knocked her from second to fourteenth.  Her mom thought she should scratch and not even ride stadium because there would be no point.  How awful!  I can’t imagine saying that to anyone, let alone my child.  It goes against everything this sport, everything life is about.  We’re here to learn.  Sometimes we learn by winning.  Sometimes we learn by making costly mistakes.  Usually we learn better from the mistakes that cost us the most.  The whole thing really appalled me.  Thankfully her grandmother was very supportive.  I truly hope that she was able to learn from the experience, not just about timing, but about continuing on when outside influences try to impact your attitude.  I have no idea how her weekend ended, but in my head, she put in a fabulous round and jumped back into the ribbons.

We didn’t.  I have no idea how we placed, but with twenty-four in our class, I’m quite certain it was well out of the ribbons.  But it doesn’t matter.  We still had a really great weekend.  It wasn’t flashy.  It wasn’t a weekend you could brag to your co-workers about.  But we learned so much and we learned it without paying painful prices.  I was worried about the weekend.  I knew we were untested in some areas.  I knew we weren’t ready to go out and win, but sometimes you have to go anyway.  Now we’ve learned what to work on.

“Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.” – Benjamin Franklin

It’s a Fresh Perspective on riding and a hard one to adopt when the price is so high, but if you can give your horse the freedom to learn with you, you’ll come out the other side in a much better position.  It’s the “5^th leg” training folks are always talking about.  Force your horse and you will always have to force him.  Teach your horse and most of the time, he’ll do what’s taught.  Discover with your horse, make mistakes, learn from them together, and he’ll save your butt when you need him too. 

Two more things I learned over the weekend: I am not above forgetting the memory card for my helmet cam  :(  and I learned to properly operate my Cross Country App, which measures the course, figures my minute markers and take pictures!  Enjoy the results below.

 

 

 

 

Doesn't look it, but this one was Big.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Jolly Green Giant.  True to its name.

 

 

 

I promise there is a ditch under that log.

 

 

 

 

 

Final fence.  Oddly enough, I heard the loud speaker say I was finished about seven strides out.
Good motivation to make sure you actually make it over the final fence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Can See Clearly Now...with my glasses on.

It’s time to face the music.  I’m getting glasses for my birthday.

About two years ago I started wearing contacts on occasion.  Those occasions included driving somewhere new with the truck and trailer and when jumping.  It was jumping that convinced me to have my eyes checked in the first place.  I just couldn’t find the correct distance to the jumps.  Turns out if you see better, you jump better.  Anyway, I found contacts to be terribly annoying and very convenient all in one.  Being able to see across the field was awesome, but after about four days, my contacts got fuzzy and I could generally see better without them.  Plus I have a rotten time getting them in my eyes and I can’t read my computer screen with them.  Bother, bother, bother.  Besides, I didn’t really need them…then.

Well, now apparently I do.  The optometrist said, “No more driving without correction.”  Humbug and bug-a-boo.  My face does not handle glasses well!  My eyes don’t like the contacts.  Whatever shall I do?

Well, after running the poor ladies around the store countless times we found a pair of sunglasses that are more like goggles and a pair of completely customizable glasses.  I’m exasperated, but I’ll have to learn to live with them.  We’re also trying the daily disposable contacts.  My horse must be rubbing off one me; I’m becoming high maintenance!

Any who…During my surprise shopping trip, I was bombarded with slogans. 

                “Clearly the Best.”      “Your world.  See the brilliance.”      

                “See Better.  Look Perfect.”      “Physics elevated to an art form.”

Well, that catch phrase from Oakley got me thinking about dressage.  It is physics elevated to an art form or it can be.  Lately our dressage has been all physics.  Mainly Newton’s Second Law of Motion: for an unbalanced force (Nutmeg) acting on a body (me), the acceleration produced is proportional to the force impressed….  You get the idea.  But it should be an art form.  I’ve seen it be an art form, but try as I might, I couldn’t visualize our dressage being any more than physics.  Time for glasses.

It happened by accident.  I just thought, “Hum, she feels good, let’s canter.”  And we did and it was great.  I didn’t prepare.  I didn’t half-halt.  I didn’t lean back or shift my weight.  I just asked.  In other words, I didn’t mess it all up!  I quit while I was ahead.  I fully expected it to be a fluke, but on my next ride I visualized doing nothing. That’s a very hard thing to visualize by the way.  My reward for doing nothing was one round of the softest, dreamiest canter I’ve ever experienced.  That was ART!

So now I know we can do it.  I don’t expect to replicate the victory every time I ride, but I sure am going to try.  I still anticipate a pretty poor score at the event in Kentucky this weekend, but now at least I can visualize a really nice test and sometimes seeing is believing and believing leads to doing.

Ellen J. Langer wrote, “In the perspective of every person lies a lens through which we may better understand ourselves.”  That is my favorite part of riding under other people.  They bring their perspective and help me tune my lens.  Lately I’ve been told I’m doing too much just because I can, not because I need to.  I think it’s finally soaked in and given me a Fresh Perspective.  Instead of getting bogged down in the how’s and why’s and whens, instead of getting engrossed in the physics, sometimes I just need to focus on the art.

Flutterings

We’re T minus 12 days until we make our trek to Kentucky and once again tackle a Training level course.  I had a laundry list of things I wanted to accomplish with Nutmeg between now and then, but… 

Nutmeg lost a shoe last week.  The only thing I’m accomplishing is laundry and its giving me butterflies.

Life’s funny that way.  It lures you into a false sense of ease.  Things go along just how they are supposed to, and then a random stranger puts it in reverse and smashes into your front bumper.  Hoping to avoid digressing into a pity party, I’m turning to Daniel Stewart, Sports Psychology Buff, for some tips on how top riders or any of us normal people can overcome the challenges everyday life throws our way.

Tip #1: Abundance vs. Scarcity Mindset

Or as I think of it, Look for the window!  Stewart writes, “Instead of telling yourself what you don’t have or what you’re not good at, tell yourself what you do have and what you’re good at.”  So I’m out of time to prepare.  Well, I have a horse that lives on pasture most of the time and does a fairly good job of staying fit.  We won’t worry about coming in on time.  We can canter and jump for five and a half minutes.

Nutmeg may be missing a shoe, but I have an Easyboot.  That helped us eek out one more ride.  Sadly her foot is in no shape to work now even with the Easyboot.  I can’t ride Nutmeg, but I can use my time wisely.  I can pack, pull manes, clean the house (oh the horror!), mow the grass, etc.  So when the doors start slamming, look for the window.

Tip #2: Present vs. Past/Future Mindsets

Or as I think of it, Don’t look where you don’t want to go!  Stewart says, “…instead of focusing on past failures or the pressure of future outcomes, keep your mind locked in the present.”  For me at least, it’s pretty easy to stay focused when we’re galloping down to a big jump, but the same keenness of focus is much harder to find in my daily routine.  The what-ifs and past experiences plague me. 

We are really struggling with our canter departs right now.  Nutmeg absolutely rockets out from under me.  For our dressage test, we pick up the canter and within four strides make a fifteen meter circle.  Lately, I’d be lucky if I could make a forty-five meter circle.  Add to that our nasty history of jumping out of the arena in the canter.  My brain wants to go there.  If I’m thinking of jumping out of the arena, I can be sure I’ll look out, Nutmeg’s shoulders will follow my eyes and out we go.  Our canter isn’t going to improve until I focus on what it should be, not what I’m anticipating it will be.  I need to get back on Admiral and rediscover that feel.  He has such nice quiet, round canter departs.   Perhaps I can channel that feeling.

Recently the Eventing World lost a rider on cross country.  It’s easy for all of us to gulp and wonder how close we’ve been or wonder if the next time we ride out of the start box, it will be us.  All those thoughts do absolutely no good.  They distract us from our present job, to ride the best we can every step of the way.  We must stay focused in the now.  Don’t let your mind go where you don’t want to follow.  Just don’t.  Worrying never helped anything.  Prepare and put all your thoughts and actions into preparing the best you can, then ride each step the way you prepared.

Tip #3: Belief vs. Fear Driven Mindsets

Or as I say, Ride what you brought.  Stewart suggests, “Instead of focusing on what you’re afraid of, teach yourself to focus on what you believe you can make happen.”  There are days I ride a fire breathing dragon.  Don’t laugh.  I truly believe fire comes out both ends and my horse grows a story taller with a long scaly neck and a complete disregard for anyone’s safety.  It happens.  On those days, I believe I we can end better than we started.  I believe I can find my horse again and that’s about it.  At that point, there is no point in being afraid of the humiliation I’m going to face in the ring.  Any chance at pride fled when the dragon emerged from the trailer.  Really, have you ever know anyone to look dignified sitting atop a giant lizard?  If things are truly horrible and I don’t believe I can’t ride safely, then I don’t.  I get off.  I do something different.  I’m not afraid of falling, I just don’t believe riding is safe and if I’m at that point, it isn’t.

That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but that doesn’t make it any less true.  My stomach keeps trying to leap into my throat at the thought of running Training in Kentucky without much prep time.  With the recent rider fatality, it’s easy to start down the fear road.  When I do, I remind myself that we wouldn’t have entered Training if I (we) didn’t believe it was within our ability.  I remind myself that we’ve done it before.  I remind myself of all the exercises we’ve done to prepare and I remind myself that the only pressure is the pressure I put on myself.  If we arrive at the park and discover a question I don’t believe we’re ready to answer, I don’t need to fear it; I need to find a way to believe we can do it.  If we trot, will that make the question answerable?  If we take the first jump, can we circle and then do the next?  What would I do if we were presenting this question in a schooling setting?  If there is no way for me to believe we can do it, we won’t.  Fear need never enter into it.  We’re afraid when we are over faced.  If we are over faced, we need to back off.  Ride what you brought and bring what you need.  Don’t wish you brought an elephant, when all you have is a mouse and don’t take a knife to a gun fight.

Well, that’s the very long way to say life isn’t going to get any easier by thinking about it.  Plans will change.  Horses will lose shoes or get hurt.  Random acts will upset your wonderful routine.  Life will go on.  Find the window, look out it, then ride that dang elephant right through!  Hopefully you found a little humor and a Fresh Perspective on the fluttering of nerves that plagues us all at some point in time.  If you want to read Daniel Stewart's original article, Click Here.

Clapping Hard for Catalpa Crew

What a weekend.  Seriously, it was picture perfect in almost every way.  Maybe I was just over the moon to be competing Nutmeg again or maybe all the stars really did align.  Whatever the cosmos was up to, I liked it!

We set off bright and early Friday morning on our five and a half hour drive to the Catalpa Corner Horse Trials near Iowa City, IA.  Although Admiral tried to make the loading process difficult by dashing around the pasture, Nutmeg had her mind on business and hopped right on the trailer.  With dog, horse and husband in tow, off we went!

I’m a bit of a nerd when it comes to research, so I generally have a good idea of what I’m getting myself into.  I’d Google snooped photos of the park, taken directions from several sources, and memorized the stabling map.  I knew I was right by the road in A14.  I knew I didn’t get an end stall, but I figured I’d be in tent stabling anyway, so what did it matter. 

Well, sometimes research is misleading.  We were right by the road, but a thick grove of trees

Our Weekend Crib

protected us from the gravel dust.  The barn was as far from a tent barn as you can get.  Concrete walls, big wide gates and windows!  Nutmeg was so happy in her stall and I was thrilled that she had room to turn around.  The weather was outstanding, but the barn was so well insulated that it was probably five to ten degrees cooler so we really got spoiled.

As was my research, so was the GPS a bit misleading.  It told us it was 290 miles door to door.  We can do that without filling the gas tanks, so we did.  Bad choice.  We pulled in on fumes.  I was switching back and forth between tanks every corner when the gauge dipped dangerously low.  I was more than slightly panicked.  Correctly reading my state of worry, the secretary put everything else that was pulling her in ten directions aside to look up where the absolute nearest place to buy diesel was located and to give me step by step directions.  I suddenly felt like Royalty. 

After settling in the big red head, we went for an explore around cross country.  I’d seen pictures, but they just didn’t do the facility justice.  Absolutely gorgeous setting!  Our first two jumps were located in a lane of trees and the detail of the decorations was fabulous.  Every time we turned around, you could tell the Catalpa Corner organizers were dedicated to hosting a top-notch event.

 

 

 Normally after my cross country walking I’m cautiously optimistic.  Friday evening, I couldn’t wait for Saturday because I was sure we were just going to have too much fun!  We put in a not to embarrassing dressage test.  It was sloppy, but it was mostly relaxed.  We didn’t fight and that is a victory.  I received notes that my reins were too long.  Well yeah, but for the first time ever "Resistant of rein aids" wasn't underlined three times.

Cross country was as much fun as I expected it to be.  This was Nutmeg’s first time jumping in trees with shadows playing on the jump faces.  It peaked her interest, but as usual, she was happy to gallop on.  We didn’t get compacted enough going into the half coffin, but squiggled through it.  The following jump was a bit messy as we recovered our decorum.   

Option Fence #10

Novice was given an option to go up the stair steps or to take a three stride chevron line.  I was originally worried about the footing on the steps because it seemed nearly concrete, but after watching a couple of training riders hop up it, I decided we’d give it a go and it rode very well.  Nutmeg thought we should be done about fence 12, but thankfully grabbed her second wind as we galloped up the hill.  I saw long and she saw short at fence 17 and we hit it hard.  I felt horrible, but it didn’t seem to faze her.  She sure picked up her feet over the last two fences. 

It was a real pleasure to ride around such a flowing course.  My watch went on the fritz right before I headed out, but the friendly timing volunteers were able to give me my start and finish times so I knew we’d done just fine on our pace (six seconds under optimum).  It was a bit of a walk back to the barns (the back of my heel is cursing my good horsemanship), but the bottled water handed out by the pinny collector was highly appreciated.

The decorations for show jumping were just as detailed as cross country.  It was a delightful course that rode nicely for many people.  Nutmeg shocked me by peeking at the in of the two stride, but in true eventer fashion we pulled through.  It was ugly but we got the job done.  We ended up with two rails.  I believe I can chalk them up to the fact neither of us is as fit as we should be.  I let her get flat.  Now we have a very firm idea of where we are and where we need to be in 24 days when we head for Kentucky.

I just can’t say enough good things about the event.  We had a great time and there were no big snafus that I heard about.  Unfortunately, someone lost their horse on the way to the event.  Everyone’s hearts certainly go out to them and their horrible loss.  With that shadow put aside, the sun shone brightly, the temperature stayed below 80, and everyone can home safely.  Five and a half hours was certainly worth it.  Oh did I mention the Catalpa staff were working with four to five times the number of competitors they were originally expecting?  The scheduling was brilliant and it had the feel of a really big, really well run event.  Thank you so much to the Catalpa Corner HT staff.  You guys rocked it!



"Water Piggies."  The dog was well pleased that there were two water jumps.

Ricky Raccoon



A "coop" that actually is a coop, complete with nesting boxes.