Blessed are the Flexible

“Blessed are the Flexible, for they will not get Bent out of Shape.”

Tis the season and when family gatherings begin, you can nearly guarantee that someone will get a wee bit bent out of shape.  Whether the traditional Thanksgiving dish got assigned to the wrong person, schedules conflict, or personalities clash, the holidays always present their own unique challenges.  So do horses.

Last weekend, I had the privilege of attending a Dressage Clinic with Cynthia Spalding.  She’s a unique lady with a wealth of knowledge and a passion for teaching.  Anyone who listens to her clinic for just ten minutes is bound to pick up a fresh perspective or two!

My lesson with Nutmeg focused on flexion.  After our less than stellar performance in the Dressage ring at Heritage, I was hoping to gain some insights on our new found bunny hop presentation.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  It’s a chronic problem.  Before we could canter, we needed to trot and the trot presented lesson number one.  I have a habit of pushing the beat.  Basically I am always thinking a hair in front of where I am and this causes me to rush.  It’s a problem when I try to dance as well, and play the piano, and walk up stairs, and through doorways and, well, you get the point.  Cynthia’s solution: Sing!

Once we had our tempo more correct, we could turn our focus to flexion.  We discovered that the resistance I’ve been getting is likely related to Nutmeg being out in her pole and jaw.  It’s time for another visit to the chiropractor.  Merry Christmas to her!  The great thing is, even working with that limitation, we were able to get her flexing better with slow calm work. 

The change came when we got my leg moving and in turn her moving off my leg.   Move my hand, move my leg.  Movement promotes movement.  Stiffness leads to stiffness. The second she got it right – release the pressure.  The release is the reward.

 It works great with horses.  Now if I could just apply it to family conflicts around the holidays.  Try as I might, I can’t master the skill, so I’m giving it a Fresh Perspective.  No amount of leg and rein aids will make the people around me flexible.  I can encourage them, but I’m fighting generations of habits.  I think I’ll just stick to making myself flexible.  Maybe that way I won’t be the one getting bent out of shape.

Priceless

Well, this has taken a while.  It’s that time of year when things spin a bit out of control.  Who am I kidding, they’re always out of control around here, but this time of year I have trouble catching my breath in the whirlwind.  Thank goodness for the occasional weekend when I can immerse myself in the horse world and breathe deeply.

That’s just what we did at Heritage, although caution against breathing too deeply was needed.  Temperatures stayed in the 30’s during the day and dipped into the twenties by night.  Even with woolly winter coats coming in, I don’t think anyone was worried about over heating their horses on cross country.

I really couldn’t have asked for a better weekend.  I got to catch up with dear friends and pilot Miss Nutmeg around her first Training Level cross country course.  There were definite instances that showed how much improvement is needed, but I still came away from the weekend wearing a huge smile and terribly proud of the pony.

Dressage is going to be the game we play this winter.  Although we’ve truly made some great strides (no pun intended, well maybe slightly), there is still much to be desired.  Here’s the best descriptor of our dressage test.

Photo by Merrick Studios.

There were some decent moments too.

 

And some moments where the judge’s comment of “transition a little late” was more than generous.  For whatever reason, I was paying more attention to staying on and in the ring then I was to riding a precise test.  Still, as my coach said, “She went in at A, did most of the movements, and came out at A.”  I’ll take it and we WILL improve from here.  Gives me plenty to work on through the dark of winter.

As less then polished as our dressage may have been, Nutmeg earned every one of her blankets, cookies, and pets around cross country.  I did not ride my best, but she rocked it. 

 

Looks innocent enough, right?  I don’t know what it is about the first fence at Heritage, but apparently Nutmeg doesn’t care much for it.  Last year it caught me completely off-guard, this year I was ready.  It took being ready and then some.  Fence one was probably my best ride of the course!

Fence two, I threw my shoulders a bit and we got a funny spot, but Nutmeg pulled it out.

Then I remembered to turn on the camera!

I almost pulled up after three.  Cantering from three to four things just felt a little funky.  I couldn’t place my finger on it so I just eased up a bit and things seemed to sort themselves out on the way to five and six.

Headed to the water, I didn’t get it together.  It didn’t occur to me until over a week later, that I could have made a circle and set things up better, but at the time I was just completely focused on forward.  Unfortunately, I also focused down.

Big Praise to the Pony.  I could have ended up very wet and cold if she hadn’t kept going!

It took me a bit to regroup, but Nutmeg trotted over the “boat house” like a pro with me bopping along on her back.  I still wasn’t completely settled back in as we headed down to the dreaded trakenher.  All the while I was yelling to myself, “Get it together!  This has to be right!  Eyes up!  Eyes up!  Eyes up!”  I managed to keep them up almost all the way.  Nutmeg had a legitimate peek at the ditch, can’t blame her, she’s never seen one with a log over it before, but in that instance, I quit riding and prepared for disaster.  She’s amazing.  She really is because she piled us over that log and landed at nearly a complete stop.

Onward and forward!  After that it was all icing on the cake.  The bank up to the table wasn’t super smooth, but she read the question and answered it.  The combination I was most concerned about was probably our best combination on course.

I threw my shoulders again at the chevron.  Another jump she’s never schooled but piled me over in spite of my distracting flopping.  I really need to get back to the gym or at least off my rear more often and get my mental longevity back.  Over the end table and home free.

 

I thought we’d gone double clear, well inside the time (26 seconds), but later discovered I’d set my watch 30 seconds slow.  We had a few time penalties, but I view it as a blessing.  By setting my watch incorrectly, I made the time a non-issue.  I was planning on “ignoring” the time anyway, but you always have just a little pressure from that watch on your wrist.  This way I faked myself out.  I am very confident that time will not be a problem in the future.

Photo by Merrick Studios.

For those of you who have never ridden by the seat of your pants, had your horse save your hinny, or even had just an exhilarating gallop around the pasture, I can’t put into words how great I felt after cross-country.  It is one of those experiences you really just have to experience!  Say what you will about riding, it is teamwork on the highest level.

Sunday dawned not quite as chili, but still frost clung to the grass well after nine.  The Show Jumping course looked like it would be a real challenge for us.  There were several downhill turning questions where I could have easily lost Nutmeg’s shoulders and when the shoulders go, we’re sunk.  We would also be returning to the ring where she pretty much ran away with me last year, but we’ve been working on submission ever since and I was literally praying it paid off.

Photo by Merrick Studios.

She was a champ.  One hundred percent more ridable then the year before.  I was thrilled with the round.  We had a rail.  Possibly she just didn’t see it.  It was have black and half orange.  I rode to the black half to give us just a hair more room in our line to the next fence, she pulled the rail.  Oh well.  The rail did mess with our ride to the following oxar which in turn affected our ride into the one stride.  It twern’t pretty, but it was amazing.  The horse that grabbed the bit and plowed around courses earlier this year listened to my voice alone as I steadied her up for the one stride and somehow we came through it unscathed.  Good pony.  Good, good pony.

That really sums it up.  I am still completely overwhelmed with how good she is.  It was nice to get a pretty pink ribbon, but I’d trade a hundred pink or even blue ribbons for the feeling she gave me repeatedly that weekend.  “Mom, I can do this, just come along for the ride, or at least stay out of the way.”  She’s happy and she is loving this game.  If you haven’t watched the video through to the end, do.  The look on her face back at her stall is priceless.  My Fresh Perspective from our weekend at Heritage: I am truly blessed to have such a creature in my life.  

Photo by Merrick Studios.

Why Compete?

Two months ago we were well on our way to Kentucky to compete in Nutmeg’s first out of state event.  I expected the competition to be even tougher as we headed east, so when a co-worker asked if we were going to win, I laughed.  “This isn’t the kind of sport where winning matters.  Sure it would be nice to get a ribbon, but the chances are quite low.  We’re going because it’s fun.”

No doubt this confuses many people.  Heck, it occasionally confuses me.  Why do we get up at crazy hours, spend precious resources driving across the country, punish our bodies, brains and emotions all to occasionally come home with a ribbon?  Why do we compete?

Cliché, but for me the reasons are like an onion.  The reason I generally verbalize is to have something to work toward.  It really helps to have an event to look forward to where you can showcase the skills you’ve been honing.  Hand-in-hand with that is the chance to check our progress.  When the crows and the cows are the only thing watching you ride, it’s easy to become complacent and overly confident.  It’s also easy to miss the improvements you are making.  An event is a great place to check your progress, not by comparing with others (although, really, who doesn’t), but comparing your performance to past performances.

The next layer of my Eventing Onion I stole.  Sinead Halpin wrote a great Blog for The Chronicle of the Horse (read it here: http://www.chronofhorse.com/article/inspiration-so-much-more-warm-and-fuzzy-feelings) about Inspiration and where it comes from.  She made an excellent point in that when we watch our peers and our betters compete, we are inspired.  Hopefully we are inspired to raise the bar and to become better, to emulate the greats, but occasionally the inspiration comes in the form of, “I’m NEVER going to look like that.”  At least that form of inspiration offers a bit of comic relief.  Whatever the form, competitions are a great opportunity to open our eyes and get back in touch with what’s going on around us.

It’s selfish to some extent, but I also like competing because it’s a chance to see my friends!  We may not snuggle around cups of hot coco sharing feel good stories, but I cherish the time spent braiding or tack cleaning as the sunsets.  Its real and its comfortable and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  Which brings me to the final layer of my Eventing Onion, quiet.

The world is a hectic place.  Every day we have more “to do” then we can possible get done.  Demands are made of our every second.  Why take a needless stroll around the office when you can check Facebook one more time?  It’s hard to find solitude, a place away from computers, cell phones and people.  Whether its braiding in our stall, doing the late night check, hand grazing or riding cross country, eventing brings peace and solitude to my life.  Not that I don’t like having friends and family along, somehow even amongst the hustle and bustle of the show schedule the solitude is waiting.

I’m heading for that solitude now.  This weekend Nutmeg and I will go on a search for the predawn tranquility we find in a barn full of horses munching away before dressage.  We’ll seek out our own patch of grass to nibble on in silence.  We will leave the sound of the start box timer’s count down in the dust as we gallop into the stillness of cross country.  That’s why I compete.  I compete to find quiet in this chaotic world.

A Horse and Her Girl

“Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though sometimes it is hard to realize this.  For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and grieves which we endure help us in our marching onward.” – Henry Ford

Everyone has heard the “eyes are the windows to the soul” quote.  I wanted something more.  But, I have to give eyes credit.  They are what started this whole train wreck of thought.

Normal people talk of starring into the eyes of their lover, of getting lost in their gaze.  Being a far from normal person, I’ve been studying horse eyes.  To even the most casual observer, the eye can speak volumes.  Take for instance the whites of the eye showing fear or anxiety.  For the less casual horse watcher, the eyes tell a story.

 It’s not something I can always find words for.  I floundered around for a full minute when a co-worker asked me how I knew my horse wasn’t feeling well.  I couldn’t put her expression into words, but I knew exactly what it meant.  As hard as it was to explain, “I don’t feel good” is a pretty easy feeling to see.  A horseperson can generally see it in any horse, not just the horse’s with which they are well acquainted.  That being said, I’ve been eye gazing looking for something deeper.

Twice now I’ve been privileged to watch the evolution of a horse’s eyes.  Ironically, both horses have been mares.  It may be that Admiral came to me with his darling personality already in place or maybe mares bond with me on a different level.  I don’t know, but I’m beginning to believe it’s more than a fluke.

Icy Dawn and Nutmeg were both mares without much personality when I started working with them.  They’d show up for work and do the job.  Some days we’d fight.  Some days things went well, but that’s about as far as things went.  We weren’t companions and their eyes rarely spoke more than, “oh it’s you, food?”

I don’t remember when I first started noticing the change in Icy, but before the end we definitely developed a partnership that went beyond walk, trot, canter, and jump.  In the end, it was the look in her eyes that finally told me it was time to put her down.  Horses might not speak human, but their eyes hold a depth of communication.

Nutmeg has been a slow transformation.  I’d say it started when she had a small round of colic (stomach ache, but a little more serious).  I think being there to help ease her pain helped break down the initial wall.  From then on she understood that I could help and she was a little less off-put by my presence. 

We’ve done a lot together since then and each little excursion cements things a bit better.  Each time I take only Nutmeg to a show, she gets my undivided attention for the weekend and becomes a bit more comfortable in her personality.  This summer, while Admiral has been laid-up, she received the majority of the pampering.  She’s now wearing an almost constant expression of pride.  As much as it has pained me to watch Admiral withdraw his personality a bit, it’s been wonderful to watch her’s bloom.   There is a new depth to her eye.  It says, “I know who I am.  I’m your partner.”

The great eventers talk about the traits they look for in a horse.  Sound legs, big heart girths, athleticism.  I believe it was Jimmy Wofford who encourages riders to find a horse with “the look of an eagle.”  I’m not sure horses are born with “the look of an eagle.”  I think it is developed.  The long hours nurturing through an illness or injury, the time spent hacking down the road, sharing triumphs and defeats, hand grazing on a sunny afternoon.  Time matters, you can’t develop a relationship without it.  We develop as we experience.  Our relationships evolve as when share time.  So, take time.  Develop character.  Build relationships.  The best part, this Fresh Perspective doesn’t just apply to a horse and her girl.   

Big Girl Pants!

Oh boy!  Have you ever dreamed or even obsessed over an item of clothing?  Maybe a sparkly dress or a fine pair of pants that catches your eye every time you are out window shopping.  You want it so badly.  Even if they are out of your price range or you’ll only wear it once, you can’t help but try it on, maybe more than once… Me either, clothes just don’t do it for me.  Now horse accessories… The point is when we identify something we want, it tends to consume a large portion of our brain and if you are anything like me, that portion of your brain is the logic center.  We lose our focus.  We forget logical progressions and we leap right for the reward.

The Kentucky show went so well.  It’s not so much that our score was phenomenal, it wasn’t, but the teamwork was finally there.  Nutmeg and I were clicking.  I knew what she needed and she was responsive to my suggestions (you try telling a chestnut mare how it’s going to be).  Two big pieces fell into place over the weekend.  One, we both stayed relaxed in dressage and show jumping and two, we were balanced on cross country.  The Horse Park might not have any mountains, but it has its fair share of hills.  For the first time competing, I felt we were balanced enough at any point to jump and I didn’t have to win a war to get the balance.  Nutmeg was happy to balance herself.

Well, that got my brain rolling.  We’d thrown around the idea of moving up to training at the beginning of the year if we could get the balance and communication in place.  So, what to do?  Play it safe and do one more event at Novice to see if Kentucky was a complete fluke?  Move up and pray my gut feeling is right?

Nope, never fear, that is NOT a Training Fence.

I’ve been eyeing the training fences since the last time I galloped around a training course (let’s just say it’s been a few years).  I really like that level.  It’s challenging enough to keep me interested, but friendly enough that I don’t have nightmares or want to pee my pants galloping down the fences.  Understanding that my desire to get back at it might just be clouding my judgment, I sought professional help.

Last Training.  Icy Dawn ~ 2007.

For many riders the decision to move up a level is made by their coach or trainer.  Sadly, living in the middle of nowhere limits my access to my long term coach.  I’m not getting weekly lessons.  In fact, I’m lucky if a second set of eyes watches me ride every couple of months.  The children playing tag across the street don’t count.  Fortunately, I’ve been given a wonderful basic education.  I can blunder along and at least manage not to do more harm than good.  We might not be accelerating toward our potential as fast as we might be with consistent instruction, but we make baby steps.  So when I sent out the cry for help, I received a predictable response, “If you think the cross country is there, move-up.”  No pressure, right?!?

I do think it’s there.  I really, really wish I could school the course we’re headed to first.  I think there’s a big old trakehner lurking out there and it might just make me pee my pants, but I have an amazing amount of confidence in Miss Nutmeg.  I’m not sure why, and that’s what worries me that my logic center has gone bonkers.  She isn’t a terribly clean jumper, but out on cross country she’s a dream.  She thinks it’s a walk in the park and hardly bats an eye.  She just gets the galloping forward and respects the solid fences.  Am I nuts?  Yeah, probably, but if we don’t take risks we never grow.

It looks friendly enough, right?

The second bit of advice I receive from my long distance coach, “It will make you work harder.”  Well, that’s true.  I told myself one way or the other I was going to prep for Heritage like we were moving up to training.  Well, now we are, so bet your buttons we’re going to be working hard! 

Today’s Fresh Perspective is Focus.  That’s what I need to keep moving forward.  Now we have a definite goal to focus on and stepping stones to reach that goal.  Stepping stones like balanced 15 meter circles, lengthening of the trot and canter, and the ever constant improvement of transitions.  The first stepping stone, find my big girl panties! 

Technically, it's my sister showing off the pants.  I'm always the one on the horse.

 

Better than a trip to the spa, our outing to the Kentucky Horse Park was terrific.  We made it a girl’s weekend, just me, a girl friend to groom and keep me awake, and the Chestnut mare - Nutmeg. 

We had no traveling trouble.  In fact, Nutmeg who is a notoriously awful traveler handled her first three plus hour trip like a champ (actual time in the trailer just a bit over nine hours each direction).  Fuel prices certainly weren’t comfortable.  I gagged when we paid over four dollars a gallon.  Little did we realize that Indiana has a sneaky little tax system.  When you think you’re paying $4.03, you’re actually paying $4.35.  Shocked, I asked the attendant why the difference in prices between the billboard and the pump, his response, “It’s an Indiana thing.”  Apparently Indiana and Washington are the only states that have a “hidden” tax for their residence.  Kind of strikes a nerve in me, but we weren’t going to let it ruin our trip.  After all, on a girl’s weekend out, you get what you pay for, right?

The staff for the Kentucky Classique Event deserves a great big thumbs up and a heartfelt thank you.  They were organized, friendly, helpful and efficient.   I have never seen a more efficient show jumping day.  Everyone was concerned with the eminent arrival of Isaac and they pushed us through quickly and politely.  Such a refreshing atmosphere.

Of course the Kentucky Horse Park is one of the nicest venues.  Ample room for warm-up in all three phases, great footing, and a back drop to make any horse enthusiast drool.  With a popular venue comes shopping!  In the Midwest we don’t get a lot of vendors, so we took full advantage of the various options and did what girls do best, especially around horses – shop for horse stuff!  A sparkly brow band and crop for the pony, some reading material for me, a few necessities like studs and rubber bands and we were about done in.  Of course, I spent about fifteen minutes drooling over the Kentucky cross country boots.  Someday… sigh.

While the great traveling conditions, the staff and the setting would have made the trip pretty good, the fact that Nutmeg had on her polite shoes sent us over the moon.  We had a wonderful time together.  She seemed to really enjoy hanging out “with the girls.”  Extra treats, grazing, and being a bit spoiled seemed to really bring out her best attitude.  Our dressage ride was so-so, but it was polite.  We didn’t get into any big fights.  Mission accomplished.  The icing on the cake was our canter work.  Perhaps not the most brilliant, but for us, a huge improvement.  No more bolting forward, rocketing me out of the tack or jumping out of the arena.  I’ll take it and we’ll move forward from here.

 

Honestly, cross country was a bit disappointing.  I expected to be challenged, but we shared what seemed like about half the course with baby novice.  If it hadn’t been at The Horse Park, it really would have been a snooze fest.  As it was, we enjoyed a nice canter around the country side.  We took advantage of the stress free trip to hopefully be ambassadors for the sport, hamming it up and waving to a group of school kids on bikes.  That was probably the highlight of our cross country trip.  Nutmeg rocked it as usual and was well pleased with herself.  I’m eyeing the training fences with increased hunger.

Show Jumping showed the greatest improvement and I left the ring grinning from ear to ear.  We had our first fight free trip.  We pulled a rail, but it was completely my fault.  I started celebrating too soon and forgot to regulate our pace quickly enough.  Lesson hopefully learned.  I am so pleased with Nutmeg.  She was completely cooperative, and that is a BIG change.

I tried a new warm-up strategy for both cross country and show jumping and it will be interesting to see if it had anything to do with our improvements.  Instead of doing a minimal quick warm-up, we did a minimal long warm-up.  Between each jump we took time to walk around the arena at least once.  It really kept us both settled.  It’s a totally different plan then most people take, but this weekend it seemed to work really well.  We will definitely be trying it again.

Yay for good weekends, great friends, wonderful horses, dedicated volunteers and magnificent venues.  I’m blessed to be able to enjoy them all.  Showing doesn’t have to be stressful, it can be as relaxing and as refreshing as a trip to the spa, and that’s the fresh perspective we brought back from Kentucky.

Sir Isaac, Rain!

“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.”  - John Ruskin

With Isaac preparing to pound down on North America, some are bracing, some running, and those of us in the Midwest are dancing barefoot and praying it will rain.

Oddly enough, it feels like we’ve been battling a hurricane for the last month, but have little to show for it.  I’ve been drowning at work.  Responsibilities, deadlines, and juggling balls have been pounding on my head.  I thrive on a fast pace environment, but I’m not a fish.  I don’t have gills, and eventually, I must come up for air. 

My husband has been blessed with wind beneath his wings as he starts a new and exciting job.  It’s an excellent position and something he enjoys.  It’s also a challenge.  He has stepped into some major responsibility and the same wind that lifts him one moment, will just as quickly turn and slap him down.  Thankfully, we’re used to the wind and he loves a good battle against the elements.

We received some chilling news a couple of weeks ago.  Fifteen to five on a Friday afternoon I received a call from my father-in-law.  “Call me as quickly as possible; Riki (mother-in-law) has been hurt.”  One quick trip in a life flight helicopter and a very long weight in the ER “waiting” room later we learned she faced a long but promising recovery.  For someone who has never before broken a bone, seven broken ribs, a broken clavicle, fractured vertebrae and a punctured lung is quite a laundry list.  As serious as it was, we were reminded daily that it could have been much worse.  A hospital is not a place where you see people at their best.  I could never work there.  Nearly every person I saw had dead or desperate eyes.  They were so tired, so distressed, clinging to any hope they could find and slipping.  Time in Riki’s room was a breath of fresh air comparatively.  We’re such a fun loving family, even though the “No Laughing” rule had been enacted, we failed miserably.  Instead of huddling in a shell and wishing the cold bitter snow would go away, we made snowmen, through snowballs, and enjoyed the fluffy white.  I just wish I could have lobbed a few snowballs at some of the other visitors.

There have been a few glimmers of sunshine admits the storm.  After Admiral’s trip to MU, he’s been healing quite nicely and seems to be sound.  He’ll start back to work next week, fingers crossed, and although the 20 minutes we’re spending a day hand walking him could easily become tedious, he’s such a gem, that I think I’m actually going to miss our walks.   Nutmeg’s run in with a strange sinus issue resolved in the best way possible – quickly and without complication.  We’re headed to Kentucky this weekend for some fun at the Kentucky Classique Event at the fabulous Kentucky Horse Park.  This will be my first event without my trusted side-kick (husband) since our wedding, but a good friend and knowledgeable horse woman is traveling along to help with the sanity and take in the sights. 

We’re also proud to announce a new addition to the family.  Nope, we haven’t purchased a new animal, and I am most certainly not expecting.  This baby is all my husband’s and it packs a punch.  While dashing back and forth from our farm, to his parents, to the hospital, we stumbled upon the find of the century, a ’74 Charger in pretty darn good shape and at a to-good-to be true price.  I couldn’t turn him down and now he’s grinning from ear to ear just thinking about “her” purr. 

It’s been storming, but the worst always seems to skirt right by.  Even with the craziness, confusion, and daily grind, we have so much to be thankful for.  Roger Miller once said, “Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”  Right now, I’d like nothing better than a splishy-splash day to go walking in the rain.  Maybe Isaac will send some our way.  Won’t you join me, and enjoy a fresh perspective?