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.