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.