One of the best parts of owning a horse is seeing not only the growth in yourself as a rider but also the relationship you develop with your horse. I have touched on this many times as I have written about my experiences with Dakota, and I have found that experiences on the ground when not riding help develop this relationship greatly.
When I first began my ownership of Dakota, she couldn't stand spray bottles. Spray bottles are a staple in the tack trunk- whether it be fly spray or coat conditioner. Horses have to be able to accept you spraying them with weird things they are supposed to be afraid of. Dakota would pull her head up as much as possible to get off of the cross ties. She couldn't stand being hosed down after riding, especially around her neck. Her ability to stand still for grooming maxed out at about 5 minutes. After all, her experience was with young children whose attention span for grooming was about the same. I couldn't help but think of one of my students who couldn't write his name at the beginning of the school year and would throw the pencil and yell "I just can't do it!" (Who now writes his name perfectly by the way!)
I started slowly with her. She doesn't have the best feet, and her coat often gets extremely dry during the winter season. I would try and pick her hooves...she would lean her body weight INTO me instead of transferring the weight like she is supposed to. She was saying, "ha in your dreams I will lift this hoof for you!" 5 minutes became 10 minute increments. 10 minutes soon turned into 20, and then 30 minutes. The more time I spent grooming her, the more she began to trust me. She knew I was just trying to take care of her, and as she understood this she began to learn the routine. However, this doesn't mean she wouldn't test me....because she absolutely would. It often reminded me of working with my preschoolers. They learned the rules in the beginning and it took time, and after they gave in a little bit they pushed the limits to see how far they could get. If she tried to wiggle her butt one direction, I would push her back the other way. If she wouldn't lift a hoof, I would keep applying pressure and reassure her with my voice that I was only trying to help. Often you read about horse grooming and many horse people believe in firmness as a way of training, but with a sweet mare that wants to work with you sometimes that tactic simply doesn't work. I found that being firm but loving was the way to gradually increase her ability to stand still for me to groom her. She used to hate being brushed. Now, she has her sweet spots she pushes towards the brush to make sure I don't miss. Ok, she still farts in my face when I pick her back right hoof but I can deal with that. I can now take the hose to the top of her mane and she doesn't love it but she doesn't pull away. She knows I'm not going to spray her in the face, I'm not going to attack her with a hose. She used to pull away when I would kiss her in the face...now she leans in for kisses. She used to stare at me when I would step into her stall. She now bows for mints, ready to do her back exercises. And at the end of it all, she knows she can SHARE an apple with me!
Many people thinking working with horses is all about being on tack and training through riding. People think of riders as riders, and don't understand that horse owners not only ride but we also take care of the animal in many, many ways.
I recently had a young rider ask me, "What is your least favorite part about owning a horse?" My answer was simply, "Paying the bill!"
Monday, January 7, 2013
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Momma's got a brand new hat....
Happy New Year to all my readers!
I am sorry it has taken so long for me to update! December has been jampacked with all kinds of activities at school for my class, decorating for Christmas at home, all while trying to take care of Dakota and prepare for the holidays!
After my return from our trip to CT for Thanksgiving, I began working on "no stirrup work". According to my riding trainer, most riders don't look forward to this work. It is hard- it is like doing cross fit on a horse. But sometimes I feel like being an adult rider and learner gives me an advantage that young people don't always have- life experience to know that you get back what you put into anything you do. If I want to become a stronger rider, I HAVE to do this work. The first day of work without stirrups, we began with a lunge line. After having such control on my own of Dakota without a lunge line, the lunge line's presence in a small ring seemed scarier than the mere thought of not having my boots in stirrups. I was more afraid of Dakota tripping over the stupid lunge line! Taking my feet out of the stirrups was alone overcoming a fear. You anticipate having no control anymore- nothing to keep you in your saddle.
The first thing I noticed is how inaccurate that assessment prior to taking my feet out of my stirrups was. Once my feet were out of my stirrups, I felt deeper in the saddle than I have ever felt. I felt grounded, like I could feel every move Dakota was making under the saddle. But this was only at the walk- how would trotting go? We began setting goals throughout the month of December...trotting with no stirrups, trotting with no stirrups while being on the right diagonal while posting, as well as doing it all alone without the lunge line or my trainer.
As of yesterday, I have more confidence on Dakota then I ever have. No-stirrup work has given me an immense amount of courage by forcing me to trust Dakota even more than I already do. My legs are dying with each and every trotting step, but it's worth it. I feel stronger, especially when my feet are in the stirrups. I feel like I can handle Dakota even on her crankiest days. Granted, I also bought myself the new Charles Owen AYR8 helmet which helps boost courage! (Thanks to my students!) After putting on this helmet, I'm not sure how I have ever been riding in another helmet!
I hope everyone had a wonderful end to 2012, as I know that 2012 has been wonderful to me. I have been blessed with Dakota- one of God's most incredible teachers. In 2012, she helped me overcome one of my biggest fears, but not without a fall! She challenges me when I'm desiring to be a lazy rider and quickly reminds me to keep my head in the game. In 2013, I look forward to challenging my riding even more by hopefully riding some other horses as well as maybe beginning to canter. Happy New Year!
I am sorry it has taken so long for me to update! December has been jampacked with all kinds of activities at school for my class, decorating for Christmas at home, all while trying to take care of Dakota and prepare for the holidays!
After my return from our trip to CT for Thanksgiving, I began working on "no stirrup work". According to my riding trainer, most riders don't look forward to this work. It is hard- it is like doing cross fit on a horse. But sometimes I feel like being an adult rider and learner gives me an advantage that young people don't always have- life experience to know that you get back what you put into anything you do. If I want to become a stronger rider, I HAVE to do this work. The first day of work without stirrups, we began with a lunge line. After having such control on my own of Dakota without a lunge line, the lunge line's presence in a small ring seemed scarier than the mere thought of not having my boots in stirrups. I was more afraid of Dakota tripping over the stupid lunge line! Taking my feet out of the stirrups was alone overcoming a fear. You anticipate having no control anymore- nothing to keep you in your saddle.
The first thing I noticed is how inaccurate that assessment prior to taking my feet out of my stirrups was. Once my feet were out of my stirrups, I felt deeper in the saddle than I have ever felt. I felt grounded, like I could feel every move Dakota was making under the saddle. But this was only at the walk- how would trotting go? We began setting goals throughout the month of December...trotting with no stirrups, trotting with no stirrups while being on the right diagonal while posting, as well as doing it all alone without the lunge line or my trainer.
As of yesterday, I have more confidence on Dakota then I ever have. No-stirrup work has given me an immense amount of courage by forcing me to trust Dakota even more than I already do. My legs are dying with each and every trotting step, but it's worth it. I feel stronger, especially when my feet are in the stirrups. I feel like I can handle Dakota even on her crankiest days. Granted, I also bought myself the new Charles Owen AYR8 helmet which helps boost courage! (Thanks to my students!) After putting on this helmet, I'm not sure how I have ever been riding in another helmet!
I hope everyone had a wonderful end to 2012, as I know that 2012 has been wonderful to me. I have been blessed with Dakota- one of God's most incredible teachers. In 2012, she helped me overcome one of my biggest fears, but not without a fall! She challenges me when I'm desiring to be a lazy rider and quickly reminds me to keep my head in the game. In 2013, I look forward to challenging my riding even more by hopefully riding some other horses as well as maybe beginning to canter. Happy New Year!
Monday, December 3, 2012
You Can't Always Get What You Want
Dear Readers,
I am sorry it has taken me an immense amount of time to get back to posting since my vacation to Connecticut! Of course, I have no excuse since I have at least been out riding!
My trip to Connecticut- especially the riding part- was more than I could have asked for. The ability to talk horses with someone much older than me that has been riding since a young child growing up in England (where my dad is from and family still lives) was just the beginning. There is nothing better than knowing you are in the company of horse people- the lifestyle is calm, soothing and comforting. Beyond that, being able to ride someone else's prized possession (aka their horse) and them trusting you fully and guiding you is amazing. I have been told on multiple occasions how riding a different horse helps you grow as a rider, but I always imagined it as this fearful experience, especially given my limited riding experience and time in the grand scheme of things. Amazingly, I woke up the day I was to ride Kimanchi without any anxiety. We had been out to the barn the day prior to my ride after Thanksgiving Day, and the barn was the medicine the doctor had ordered. I had been away from the barn for too long- and it had only been 3 days! The smell, the sense of animals, watching other riders do jumps I can't even begin to do.....it's all perfect and relaxing for me. The next day, we headed up to the barn in Bedford, NY and I watched as Andrew's stepmom tacked up Kimanchi. I, of course, evaluated the riding atmosphere- taking it all in. Watched how the horses functioned in below 32 degree weather as calm as a pure black sparkling night sky. In Florida, the temperature drop of 5 degrees makes Dakota spooky and looky at everything. The wind was blowing and it even began to flurry! But I was too excited, I could hardly contain it. I mounted Kimanchi like a boss. It was like I had never struggled with riding anxiety. I think my mind had prepared itself- I knew I had to take charge from the beginning and not let Kimanchi sense I had any ounce of anxiety. He began walking....lazily. Hayley urged me not to let him walk that slow, to give him kicks. My kicks were gentle, as I am used to Dakota- a horse that reacts greatly to even the tiniest kick. Kick, kick, kick....now we were walking at a quicker speed. Then I started to trot and all I could feel was his hind end pushing me up into my post! He felt so fast, but I realized that he takes longer strides. I switched directions with him, changed my diagonals correctly, and eventually Hayley walked away! I guess she trusted me with her baby!
This ride alone changed my perception entirely of the idea of getting on a horse you aren't used to riding. I saw my growth and how my brain was able to trick itself for me to overcome any fear. Once you allow yourself to accept the challenge, the anxiety goes away.
On the airplane home, I mentioned to Andrew that I didn't expect to have any anxiety when we returned once I got on Dakota. After all, I had ridden a different horse and practiced everything I knew how to do- sitting trot, posting trot, diagonal changes, etc. After we got home, I headed out to the barn ready to mount Dakota without a fear in the world.
I pulled into the barn eager to see my baby girl, and she greeted me with a fart and her butt! She pushed her back end up to the stall in true mare fashion as if to say, "Huh....so where have YOU been?!" She gave me a tough ride that day. But when I looked at the situation from the other side, I saw it in a positive light. I officially had a relationship with my horse. She NOTICED I had been gone for a few days and had even given me mare ATTITUDE! That in itself is a win- regardless of whether or not the ride is what you expect it to be.
I am sorry it has taken me an immense amount of time to get back to posting since my vacation to Connecticut! Of course, I have no excuse since I have at least been out riding!
My trip to Connecticut- especially the riding part- was more than I could have asked for. The ability to talk horses with someone much older than me that has been riding since a young child growing up in England (where my dad is from and family still lives) was just the beginning. There is nothing better than knowing you are in the company of horse people- the lifestyle is calm, soothing and comforting. Beyond that, being able to ride someone else's prized possession (aka their horse) and them trusting you fully and guiding you is amazing. I have been told on multiple occasions how riding a different horse helps you grow as a rider, but I always imagined it as this fearful experience, especially given my limited riding experience and time in the grand scheme of things. Amazingly, I woke up the day I was to ride Kimanchi without any anxiety. We had been out to the barn the day prior to my ride after Thanksgiving Day, and the barn was the medicine the doctor had ordered. I had been away from the barn for too long- and it had only been 3 days! The smell, the sense of animals, watching other riders do jumps I can't even begin to do.....it's all perfect and relaxing for me. The next day, we headed up to the barn in Bedford, NY and I watched as Andrew's stepmom tacked up Kimanchi. I, of course, evaluated the riding atmosphere- taking it all in. Watched how the horses functioned in below 32 degree weather as calm as a pure black sparkling night sky. In Florida, the temperature drop of 5 degrees makes Dakota spooky and looky at everything. The wind was blowing and it even began to flurry! But I was too excited, I could hardly contain it. I mounted Kimanchi like a boss. It was like I had never struggled with riding anxiety. I think my mind had prepared itself- I knew I had to take charge from the beginning and not let Kimanchi sense I had any ounce of anxiety. He began walking....lazily. Hayley urged me not to let him walk that slow, to give him kicks. My kicks were gentle, as I am used to Dakota- a horse that reacts greatly to even the tiniest kick. Kick, kick, kick....now we were walking at a quicker speed. Then I started to trot and all I could feel was his hind end pushing me up into my post! He felt so fast, but I realized that he takes longer strides. I switched directions with him, changed my diagonals correctly, and eventually Hayley walked away! I guess she trusted me with her baby!
This ride alone changed my perception entirely of the idea of getting on a horse you aren't used to riding. I saw my growth and how my brain was able to trick itself for me to overcome any fear. Once you allow yourself to accept the challenge, the anxiety goes away.
On the airplane home, I mentioned to Andrew that I didn't expect to have any anxiety when we returned once I got on Dakota. After all, I had ridden a different horse and practiced everything I knew how to do- sitting trot, posting trot, diagonal changes, etc. After we got home, I headed out to the barn ready to mount Dakota without a fear in the world.
I pulled into the barn eager to see my baby girl, and she greeted me with a fart and her butt! She pushed her back end up to the stall in true mare fashion as if to say, "Huh....so where have YOU been?!" She gave me a tough ride that day. But when I looked at the situation from the other side, I saw it in a positive light. I officially had a relationship with my horse. She NOTICED I had been gone for a few days and had even given me mare ATTITUDE! That in itself is a win- regardless of whether or not the ride is what you expect it to be.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Happy Thanksgiving
To all my dear readers,
Over the next few days, I will be going through something called "animal withdrawal". Not only will I be away from Dakota, I have also left my nervous, anxious goldendoodle Bailey with his grandma. I have also realized that I could quite possibly end up being one of those moms that hides in the bushes the first day of preschool. I swore I would never be that way, nor will I ever drive a mini-van. Hopefully the 2nd of those two promises ends up to be upheld.
I will be venturing to Connecticut to spend Thanksgiving with my amazing man and his entire extended family. I will also be riding with stepmother. This entails riding a horse other than Dakota... something I have not even done since my major fall off of Cinnamon. This will be a personal opportunity for growth as well as a mental challenge.
I wish everyone a WONDERFUL Thanksgiving holiday, and I will be back in action next week!
Over the next few days, I will be going through something called "animal withdrawal". Not only will I be away from Dakota, I have also left my nervous, anxious goldendoodle Bailey with his grandma. I have also realized that I could quite possibly end up being one of those moms that hides in the bushes the first day of preschool. I swore I would never be that way, nor will I ever drive a mini-van. Hopefully the 2nd of those two promises ends up to be upheld.
I will be venturing to Connecticut to spend Thanksgiving with my amazing man and his entire extended family. I will also be riding with stepmother. This entails riding a horse other than Dakota... something I have not even done since my major fall off of Cinnamon. This will be a personal opportunity for growth as well as a mental challenge.
I wish everyone a WONDERFUL Thanksgiving holiday, and I will be back in action next week!
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Falling For You
After Dakota and I had just gotten comfortable with our "waltz", we had our first fall together. It was my 2nd official fall after my first fall off of Cinnamon. But I had been waiting for this one- the one that Dakota and I would share. And it happened the exact way I always expected it would...she tripped! Over her own 2 front hooves! She fell face first and I had no choice but to be catapulted over the front of her. I immediately tried to stand up, but felt tension in my neck and was somewhat dazed. Luckily, another rider was in the ring next to us and came over and asked if I was ok. And surprisingly, I was. I wasn't scared. I didn't feel sick like I did the first time. In fact, I smiled. And the most surprising of all was Dakota's reaction to the fall. Most horses would take off and flee out of fear. Instead, she stood behind me. She nudged my elbow and arm with her muzzle. She was asking me, "Are you ok, mommy?" And there it was. The first acknowledgement- I actually love and trust my rider and owner. I had stood in her stall for hours and hours for this moment. For this moment of her making the decision, "ok, I will accept you into my life". And yes, maybe it took a brutal fall, but it was finally there...the trust. All I could do was smile. The other rider kept asking me questions and asking me if I was ok, and I think my answers shocked her. Especially after I realized I was dripping blood down my face.
Trust is one of those words that we hear so often used in society. It is so easy to lose and a long process of gaining in one another. I don't know why I expected any different from an animal with feelings and emotions. How is she different? Yes, her brain may not have the capacity ours does for memory and learning. But she has feelings. She feels the wind from miles away, she senses storms coming towards us before the radar detects it- so it was a no brainer that she could read me like an open book.
The other rider helped walk us back to the barn, and I immediately asked my trainer "Do we have a first aid kit?" She walked up and said, "What happened!?" as she knew blood was dripping down my face. But I didn't care! I was relieved! I smiled back saying, "Oh we just tripped, we're fine!" I cleaned up my wounds, and my trainer made me get back in the saddle. I said, "Ok...I'm up here....any more tricks we have to do to prove we are fine?!" I did it with no fear. All the anxiety, all the woe- it was completely gone. All the trust in the world had been handed to me by an animal- a flea bit gray quarter horse.
Trust is one of those words that we hear so often used in society. It is so easy to lose and a long process of gaining in one another. I don't know why I expected any different from an animal with feelings and emotions. How is she different? Yes, her brain may not have the capacity ours does for memory and learning. But she has feelings. She feels the wind from miles away, she senses storms coming towards us before the radar detects it- so it was a no brainer that she could read me like an open book.
The other rider helped walk us back to the barn, and I immediately asked my trainer "Do we have a first aid kit?" She walked up and said, "What happened!?" as she knew blood was dripping down my face. But I didn't care! I was relieved! I smiled back saying, "Oh we just tripped, we're fine!" I cleaned up my wounds, and my trainer made me get back in the saddle. I said, "Ok...I'm up here....any more tricks we have to do to prove we are fine?!" I did it with no fear. All the anxiety, all the woe- it was completely gone. All the trust in the world had been handed to me by an animal- a flea bit gray quarter horse.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Waltzing to the trot....
As I sit and watch my piano student carefully play through a piece of music she had 2 weeks to practice as if she is going to potentially break the keys or even worse "play a wrong note" I can't help but think, why? Why so cautiously do you play something that is meant to be a dance, a waltz, something that could move someone to tears? I am led to think about my riding immediately. Every note she played in front of me, anxiety was placing a wrath on her hands' abilities to do what she knows. This student is not one who spends every week coming to her lesson without practicing. In fact, she practices each and every day. She has amazing musical talent- so why so cautiously? I realized its because of her nature to want everything to be perfect. Her hands were so stiff from aiming for perfection that the piece of music had completely lost life- and she was playing it loaded with mistakes.
All I can hear beyond the music is the voice of my riding instructor in the background saying, "just relax. You are so tense and Dakota feels it all... You aren't letting yourself trust her. Enjoy your ride, don't worry the entire time about falling." Now it all made sense as I watched this student play. Music can be just a piece of paper when observed simply, but to true musicians who value music at a higher price than paper, it is a crushing blow the day you can't play the piece you have practiced over and over again until it's perfect. This child was waiting for that fall- that crushing blow. She wasn't enjoying what she was trying to perfect so deeply.
The following weeks of riding, all I could try and do was relax. Enjoy the weather, enjoy the achievements Dakota and I were able to accomplish once all I did was simply relax. It was like we were in a waltz together- a combo of learning extended and collected trotting, the sitting trot, our 2-point at both the walk and trot. I wasn't worried about the crushing blow of a fall anymore- I had fallen in love with this magical creature.
Riding has this magical power similar to music. You have to practice to become amazing at it but you have to enjoy the journey, you can't dread each and every ride. Sure, there are days where you will have a horrible ride and frustrate each other to no end. I've felt that way with the piano before and all I want to do is bang the keys till they break off. So why do I keep coming back? Why don't we all just throw the towel in and quit? Because there are divine forces at work beyond our control- gifts we have been given and relationships we make in the process.
My relationship with Dakota hasn't just grown her and I. My mom has the ability to talk to me about her passion which she can no longer pursue because of arthritis. She can give me advice and for once I can listen. I can listen to my peers, co-workers, and my amazing man when they have to bring me back down from my dillusional thinking. And this all came from my relationship with Dakota. And we wonder why animal therapy works?
All I can hear beyond the music is the voice of my riding instructor in the background saying, "just relax. You are so tense and Dakota feels it all... You aren't letting yourself trust her. Enjoy your ride, don't worry the entire time about falling." Now it all made sense as I watched this student play. Music can be just a piece of paper when observed simply, but to true musicians who value music at a higher price than paper, it is a crushing blow the day you can't play the piece you have practiced over and over again until it's perfect. This child was waiting for that fall- that crushing blow. She wasn't enjoying what she was trying to perfect so deeply.
The following weeks of riding, all I could try and do was relax. Enjoy the weather, enjoy the achievements Dakota and I were able to accomplish once all I did was simply relax. It was like we were in a waltz together- a combo of learning extended and collected trotting, the sitting trot, our 2-point at both the walk and trot. I wasn't worried about the crushing blow of a fall anymore- I had fallen in love with this magical creature.
Riding has this magical power similar to music. You have to practice to become amazing at it but you have to enjoy the journey, you can't dread each and every ride. Sure, there are days where you will have a horrible ride and frustrate each other to no end. I've felt that way with the piano before and all I want to do is bang the keys till they break off. So why do I keep coming back? Why don't we all just throw the towel in and quit? Because there are divine forces at work beyond our control- gifts we have been given and relationships we make in the process.
My relationship with Dakota hasn't just grown her and I. My mom has the ability to talk to me about her passion which she can no longer pursue because of arthritis. She can give me advice and for once I can listen. I can listen to my peers, co-workers, and my amazing man when they have to bring me back down from my dillusional thinking. And this all came from my relationship with Dakota. And we wonder why animal therapy works?
Sunday, November 11, 2012
"Let your faith be bigger than your fear"
I spent the day before the show prepping Dakota- her mane, her tack, everything. Everything except our relationship. We were taking steps backwards in our rides together. Every practice session became filled with frustration on both ends. The day of the show, there is always a "schooling" before the show actually begins. This is really a practice time in the ring with your trainer and any other horses that are planning to show with their riders. At the time, I had a little girl leasing from me who was also going to be showing Dakota. During my schooling, I couldn't seem to get Dakota's trot under control. Not the sitting trot, not the extended trot, just the regular ole trot. Even with voice commands like "trot" and "walk" instead of clicking noises, she was clearly agitated and anxious and so was I. The more frustrated and anxious I would get, she would take it all in and give it right back to me. She was being a true mare. Once the show began, my trainer pulled me right before my first class from the show because Dakota didn't seem like her mind was in the right place. Neither was mine. I was so focused on just participating- I wasn't even thinking about my safety, let alone hers. I was devastated. I didn't care if I got a ribbon for last place with zebra print that said "World's worst rider". I just wanted to participate. As the judge started giving commands like, "All riders please trot", she started asking the riders in my age appropriate class to perform commands that Dakota and I hadn't even had time to practice or learn. At that moment, I was extremely grateful my trainer had made that decision, regardless of my disappointment.
The day after the show, I took the first step to move beyond my disappointment. I set a new goal- I would compete in a show in February or March, not two weeks away. Not even a month away. I needed to overcome my fear, and part of doing so was having faith in Dakota's natural instincts. My next lesson, I worked on just being comfortable in other rings, walking her around the grounds, letting her graze. In fact, I began talking and singing to her everywhere we went. It was like a scene out of Seabiscuit. I set dates with other riders at the barn so I could get saddle time on days that family members or my wonderful man couldn't make it out to the barn. I began putting in the time with her, getting comfortable with her. And everything began to change. It didn't involve shredded wheat (okay, maybe a little) and it didn't involve letting her do whatever she wanted. It involved me learning that I can be firm and loving at the same time. It involved me taking risks that I never imagined- having faith and allowing it to be bigger than my fear.
The day after the show, I took the first step to move beyond my disappointment. I set a new goal- I would compete in a show in February or March, not two weeks away. Not even a month away. I needed to overcome my fear, and part of doing so was having faith in Dakota's natural instincts. My next lesson, I worked on just being comfortable in other rings, walking her around the grounds, letting her graze. In fact, I began talking and singing to her everywhere we went. It was like a scene out of Seabiscuit. I set dates with other riders at the barn so I could get saddle time on days that family members or my wonderful man couldn't make it out to the barn. I began putting in the time with her, getting comfortable with her. And everything began to change. It didn't involve shredded wheat (okay, maybe a little) and it didn't involve letting her do whatever she wanted. It involved me learning that I can be firm and loving at the same time. It involved me taking risks that I never imagined- having faith and allowing it to be bigger than my fear.
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