Bending

 Rain, snow,

Go away,

Come again never.

I am so sick of the cold and the wet and the icky. I am sick of wearing long underwear under my breeches, sick of dealing with blankets and coolers and quarter sheets, sick of waiting for the barn water to get hot to run over the bit before bridling, sick of riding in endless circles inside in the dark. I am very jealous of the happy people going to Aiken. I have a very bad attitude about life right now.

However, the two months of cold and dark has forced three things upon me that have greatly improved our training. First, jumping inside has allowed us to practice precision. Because the jumps are close to the wall, I have to be vigilant about establishing a line and making sure Surya doesn’t turn too soon. Also, without access to the larger jumps and courses outside, we have worked on a lot of technical questions. This past week we did a gymnastics exercise for the second time and Surya rocked it! Double bounce to one stride to two stride. At the end, my trainer put the two-stride up to 2’10”! Second, the cold necessitated a longer warmup, which resulted in lots of work on walk-halt and walk-trot transitions, which improved Surya’s response to my leg, reinforced forward-thinking mentality, and encouraged me to be very precise with where Surya’s haunches were so that she kept the correct bend through each transition. Third, riding inside meant drilling inside leg to outside rein and drilling speed control with no distraction. So our rides go bend, bend, bend, canter(!), canter forward, canter slow, canter forward, canter slow, trot forward, trot slow, trot forward, trot slow, change direction through the centerline, repeat. This past week I started adding in serpentines again. While we initially had technical difficulties traveling to the right, once I got control of her left shoulder, Surya found the right much easier than the left. We are finally just establishing correct bend to the left.

But as I mentioned two posts ago, to focus on bending correctly, one needs to know how a horse bends. So how, exactly, does a horse bend? What are its rib cage, spine, and feet doing when we ask it to bend to the inside?

As the Official USDF Guide to Dressage notes, a horse’s spine has very little ability to bend laterally. Its neck, sure, that can obviously bend around and touch its own rib cage when motivated by a piece of sugar. But withers to haunches, a horse’s spine cannot bend into the half-moon shape that “bend around the circle” would seem to imply. But then what is happening when a horse does a haunches-in, or shoulder-in, or half-pass? The horse definitely appears to be bending its rib cage!

Let’s say the horse is traveling left at the trot and “bending” to the left. What is happening, according to the USDF and Philippe Karl, is that the horse is contracting the muscles on the left side of its body and lengthening the muscles on the right side. Since the horse is in motion, this is still a dynamic process, and the bend flexes as the horse moves, but the general idea remains.

If you think about a horse on a circle, and draw a straight line from its haunches to its withers, it becomes evident that, on a circle, its haunches are always traveling out, and its shoulders are always traveling in. So when contracting to the left, a horse’s left hind will reach under to the center of its body and the right fore will reach out and slightly to the left. The more contracted the left side, and the stronger the muscles, the more the shoulders will already be angled in the direction of motion, so the less the right fore will dislocate from forward, and the more the haunches will simply follow the shoulders instead of swinging out, so the straighter the left hind will travel. The neck follows the bend. However, I am still unclear on the benefits of greater or lesser bend through the neck, so I will leave that topic for another day.

Astride, we want the muscles to contract, and so to move away from our inside leg. If the horse is hollowing the right and seems to be pushing or ignoring our leg on the left, it is contracting the muscles on the right. So if they are bending left correctly, the left side doesn’t feel hollow…it is lifted and there is definitely something “there”, but neither does it feel bulging. In my mind, it is still a subtle difference but I’m sure once you ride dressage long enough it feels obvious.

Things get more complicated with counter-bends. Don’t even ask me about canter yet.

Another important thing to note is that bending is not collection. Collection is the lifting of the base of the neck, lifting of the withers via contraction of the abdominal muscles and dropping of the pelvis in order to animate and lift. BUT my trainer tells me bending is an important step toward collection since it defines how the horse must move. Then, as we ask for further animation in the stride, but no faster, the only response the horse can have is to collect. Whereas, without first being “through” the bridle and bending, or contracting, in the direction we ask, asking for animation of the stride would only result in high-headed or side-stepping evasions. Right? If I’ve got this all wrong somebody tell me please!

So where are Surya and I in this process? To the left, she alternates between ignoring my inside leg and ignoring my outside leg, so the angle of her shoulders is very rarely right. We are working on it. To the right, we are doing very well and working on moving more through the bridle. It’s all very exciting and I’m becoming very obsessive-compulsive about things since we are stuck inside and my hands are cracking from the cold and I WANT IT TO BE SPRING. Anyway, bye.

Since I am having technical difficulties with the video, here is a picture of me and Surya jumping the double bounce. She always jumps with her ears forward :).

Year One

A year ago today, I met Surya and my life changed.

She is the sweetest, hardest working, smartest, bravest, itchiest, most beautiful, and perfect horse I have ever met. I am so lucky we are partners.

A year ago, Surya wouldn’t go into the indoor arena… or her stall. A year ago, she was not confirmed at the canter under saddle. She hated fly spray and wouldn’t think of standing for clippers. A year ago, I didn’t own a pair of breeches. I didn’t own a curry comb. I had not yet inexplicably bought unnecessary duplicates of halters and blankets. I posted the trot like a child told she was going to Disney World. Surya was green; I was (am) green. A year ago, a successful partnership was not a foregone conclusion.

Thanks in large part to my brilliant trainer, we have made it work, and last month Surya started galloping up to me when I come to fetch her from the field. Granted, this may be because it’s winter and freezing and she wants to come inside, but I am choosing to interpret this as enthusiasm for my company.

I trust her; she trusts me. This is in evidence in our jumping. If I am unsure or confused, Surya decides she is too. But if I ask her to go, she goes. I have almost fallen off of her a couple of times – lost my stirrups, landed on her neck, hung off the right side of her with my left hand clenched in her mane while she somehow ran out of a bounce. She doesn’t hold it against me, and on the plus side, she’s obviously very agile. The next time we face the bounce I keep my upper body back and we go through perfectly, her ears relaxed and happy. And she is so smart. She gets us through the jumps if I don’t see a distance and over new stuff like she’s seen it all before. She is unafraid and I am unafraid. I’ve got her back (hah) and she’s got mine.

This is true in dressage too, though it’s less about trust and more about accurate communication. Surya will let me know if she is upset: pinned ears and swished tail. But she capitulates so easily. As if she considers the energy required to put up a good fight, then mentally shrugs and says ok Alex, you know best…bend to the right it is! This is wonderful, because I have been able to work on developing finesse without her punishing me for accidental heavy-handedness. If riding is a language, I feel like I’ve finally gained enough understanding to start reading novels. Easy ones for now, maybe on the level of Harry Potter, but hopefully more nuanced with time.

In some ways, Surya is the least marish mare that has ever existed. But she loooovvves scratches, pretty much everywhere. She pricks her ears and then pouts if I greet other horses in her line of sight. She will do anything for grain or apple bites, but places a lesser value on carrots. We have had little fights, but I’ve won, and she lets the precedent stand. She can tell if she’s pushing the boundary of acceptable behavior, and I can tell if she just wants to run in the snow.

Having a horse is like living a pop song, or a symphony. Surya, as Taylor Swift says in declarative chords, “I loved you from the very first day!”

The Sally Cousins Clinic

It happened yesterday. A jump so perfect it felt like we were flying. So perfect I didn’t feel like Surya and I were jumping and I was trying put all my pieces in the right place; I was Surya and Surya was me and we jumped. It was like water flowing over smooth stone, or exhaling with a hard struck electric guitar chord. Or…whatever, you know what I mean.

It happened because Sally Cousins came and taught a clinic at our barn. Sally is an eventer that has competes horses at the highest level, is aiming to compete at the WEG 2014, and was the Leading Lady event rider in the U.S. the past five years running. She has many well-known horses, but her most famous is The Robber Baron, who was the 2011 Intermediate Horse of the Year. Sally’s website is here. My trainer is a student of hers. So I was very excited but also worried that our (my) jumping ability was not up to snuff.

To make me feel better, Surya got her mane and tail brushed yesterday morning, and then we headed to the jump arena in a slightly nervous state (okay, fine, it was more an “I” than a “we”). We warmed up fine, albeit with one dropped rein and slipped stirrup. We stopped, and I gave myself a mental talking to. Get your shit together NOW. And stop being such an irritating wuss. okay Sufficiently motivated, we were prepared to jump. Sally had us warm up for jumping by trotting over a cross-rail in both directions. That went fine, and I relaxed into the saddle a bit. Sally then watched us go over verticals, oxers, and a four-stride at the canter.

I still have a problem of swinging my lower leg too far back and landing on Surya’s neck. I try really hard not to. My trainer tells me to ‘land in my feet’. Sally said ‘keep your leg forward’. I did a little better with that phraseology, but still lost it over the jump. But THEN Sally changed tactics. She squinted a bit, watched my body over the jump, and then said ‘hold on with your thighs and knees’. It would maybe appear that I do not need to do this, as I completely lose my lower leg and it seems that the only thing I am doing is holding with my thighs and knees.

But I wasn’t really. I was pivoting on my knees, and losing my balance forward. She clarified, ‘hold on in the air’. We went to another jump and I tried it. It worked perfectly! I was following Surya over the jump, and I could use my lower leg, which meant I could swing it forward! Which meant that I didn’t land on Surya’s neck.

Now, my trainer has told me many times to ‘keep my knee next to the tack’. First, that is not the same thing as squeezing. Second, I think I felt reluctant to hold on too hard, because in dressage, squeezing with the thighs and knees means to slow down, become more collected, or stop, and that is not the reaction I wanted while jumping. But I guess with the more forward seat combined with continuing to apply lower leg it doesn’t mean the same thing? At least, Surya didn’t interpret me holding on better as a request to slow down or stop.

Sally had me jump a corner and a bounce, both of which I’ve never done before, and a chevron, which we’ve only done a few times. It went great! And then the perfect jump happened over the corner, and we were done.

Plus, Sally Cousins said she liked Surya!

A technical question that I asked Sally: A horse takes off a certain distance from a jump. If the horse is jumping the same jump at an angle, should it take off the same distance away from the jump, or from further away? I’m not asking about seeing a distance, but rather holding all else equal.

Answer: The horse should take off from the same distance in both situations. That being said, taking off from further away is less risky because the horse can be lazier with its inside hind (the one closer to the jump), and so you are less likely to get a rail. But, the distance will be ‘gappy’ and coming out will be more awkward. So jumping closer is riskier but more technically correct.

Compression v. Blocking

Well, I’ve made my point. If I shove Surya over with my inside leg, hold onto the outside rein, and open the inside rein, she will bend her neck to the inside and move off my inside leg.

In the process of insisting on this, and trying to muscle her into a bent round frame, I have completely eliminated her natural impulsion from behind. Also, instead of pushing her to the bridle, I have pulled the bridle into her. In essence, rather than compressing her into a bundle of collected potential energy, I have blocked forward movement.

Because of the holidays and other circumstances, I hadn’t had a dressage lessons for a few weeks. As we trotted around for our trainer this week, she said to get more impulsion from behind and squeeze. We tried a few circles of this, and then my trainer got exasperated and told me to drop the reins completely. Surya stretched her neck down and out and moved forward into a beautiful swinging trot. Then, my trainer said to push Surya to the bridle by squeezing with my legs, but not changing my posting rhythm. Surya reached out, touched the bit, and got rounder.

To be fair, I’ve received this instruction many times before and have theoretically tried to implement every time I ride. But after almost two months of focusing on only applying pressure with one leg at a time (the inside!), I have gotten very lazy with my lower legs. Squeezing is difficult. Also, without the reins defining a dramatic bend, my legs have to do all the directional, bending, and impulsive work. (Owie.)

I really like how light Surya got in the contact. Rather than pulling against the bit, she lightly mouthed it with a slight pressure. Of course, she was very light in the contact last March, but had a tendency to lose the contact completely and get behind the bit. Over-corrections are good? I know the amount of contact has a great deal to do with personal preference, but I think I like the light contact better. Two months ago, though, if I rode like I rode this week, I would have had no directional authority, would not have been able to define a bend, and she would have traveled on the inside rein.

I feel like there’s been two months of pressure….and now that she’s got it, release. An extension of moment-to-moment horse training. Because I am so green, I tend toward over-correction and extremes. But, do all horses go through more contact/less contact phases? Is it alright to sacrifice impulsion and freedom to stretch to the bit in order to teach inside leg to outside rein?

Surya either didn’t understand moving off my inside leg, traveling on the inside rein, and bending to the inside rein, or she was being stubborn and didn’t want to do it. So I made the reins short and got very insistent. Now she gets it and does it, and does it even when the reins are long. Maybe, if I had a do-over, I would approach the concept more slowly, and let her come to the idea without limiting impulsion or taking such a heavy grip on the reins (aka, let her be happier). If I don’t get something, I take a hammer and school it and school it and school it and drill drill drill until it’s right. Subtlety is not my strong suit. Is that a bad thing? Something to think about.

In other news, I lengthened my stirrups a hole! And it felt better than when they were shorter instead of difficult or weird.  Hooray!

In yet more news, Sarah from West 12 Ranch Kigers sent me this very informational video of a clinic by JP Giacomini on bending, half-passes, and weight. It blew my mind a little, and made me confused before I thought about it. I particularly like his comment that horses don’t bend like cats. I knew this, but it made me realize that I need to study how horses DO bend. Because there is a basic idea, but then a whole lot of nuance that I don’t understand.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWl4tvtZYGg
(for whatever reason I can't embed the video in the post, so just click on the link)

Cupcakes for Everyone!

Captain’s Log, Stardate 20133.7. Our destination is Planet Piaffe, a beautiful world full of flowers and unicorns. The exact coordinates of the planet are unknown, but the crew is in high spirits, and we’ve determined a proximate trajectory.

The shift started with a warm-up as usual, walking on the bit and then trotting the perimeter of the ring for 5 minutes on a loose rein. Today, Surya stretched forward for contact with the bit even with the loose reins. Good girl! And it was freezing (okay, not quite…in interest of precision, 33 degrees Fahrenheit) and we weren’t warmed up yet! She just got right to work!

We’ve been having a series of fantastic rides. This is because we both have an understanding of what we are trying to accomplish. While I visited my family over Christmas, ARF rode Surya for me twice, once dressage and once jumping. I feel like I should pay her for training, because she got something to click in Surya’s brain re bending. She also did a gymnastic with Surya, and now her jump is very improved.

With this understanding of concept, we are marching forward with implementation.

There are two ways to reward a horse. One is via the release of pressure, and the other is via praise. Like all horses, Surya learns from the release of pressure, but she loves praise. I think this is because of her exceptionally willing attitude and desire to please. During riding, I have used my voice to tell her she’s good, and have scratched her withers with my fingertips. However, I’ve been somewhat limited in my ability to take my hands off the reins and praise her more, because I did not have enough skill to keep everything else the same, and she was consistently leaning on the inside rein. My trainer said not to drop the outside rein because then I would be rewarding her for bending to the outside of the circle and traveling on the inside rein. When I tried to drop the inside rein, she used to throw her head to the outside; I also did not want to reward that.

Toward the end of our ride, Surya and I were traveling in a circle to the right, and she was bending around my inside leg, on the bit on the outside rein, and curving her neck as I indicated with the inside rein. She was so perfect, I let go of the inside rein and patted her neck and told her she was a good girl.

She stayed traveling in the same way.

Her ears got incredibly floppy. I swear the horse was grinning.

Her trot got even bouncier and happier.

My heart ached with how happy she was.

We trotted a few more circles, and then called it a day. Surya is generally very relaxed and even-tempered under saddle. She can be a little grumpy if I insist on something difficult, but typically doesn’t get upset. Yet I have never seen her so absolutely joyful outside of extended scratching on her crest and chin. So I'm going to continue on with the positive reinforcement (provided I can continue reinforcing the right things), and hope it contributes to mission success.



Looking for grain and being cute.



Happy New Year!!!

“…And the stars were shining, distant bells were ringing…”

Have you ever stood outside in the dark on Christmas Eve, ankle-deep in snow in the middle of a pine forest, staring up at the Milky Way and breathing in the knife-sharp air? The silence sounds full of song and miracles. So many years I’ve paused with my five siblings on our way to church and longed for what was, or what might yet be. This year I yearned for what is.

This was the year of Prairie Creek, of making wonderful friends, of a happier family, of building a home. Of learning to dance.

Lately Surya and I have been working on bending, and it’s going very well. For weeks I insisted, twisting myself around in exaggeration, and achieving flashes of brilliance. But I have again come up against a wall in my own knowledge. When Surya bends correctly, I don’t know enough to be able to give in pressure and thus reward without first thinking about it, which means I can’t reward her instantly, which means she doesn’t have flashes of insight. Instead, we are working toward bending in increments. First, I get her trotting in a good rhythm and on the bit. Then, I ask her to bend around my inside leg without bending to the outside. My main struggle is with the reins. In opening the inside rein, I have a tendency to give with the outside rein. Or I pull the inside rein down, or back. The result of any of these is Surya bending her poll and cocking her head while traveling straight with her shoulders. After endless repetition, I am slowly figuring out how to set her up so the pressure is relieved when she bends with her whole neck and flexes around my inside leg. She is slowly figuring out what I want. This is difficult for me because the concept is new; it is difficult for her because she is very short-coupled and bending is not so easy. Inch by inch, we are making progress, and holding the improvements from ride to ride. Not flashy or instantaneous, but I am happy.

And yet, the last few weeks of 2012 have been bittersweet. One of my best friends moved away across the country. And my Awesome Rider Friend’s horse (that she was leasing) was put down after he unexpectedly went fully blind. “Johnny” (out of respect for his owner’s wishes, not his real name) was a horse that would always pay attention if you called his name. People would sing-song from across the barn, “John-ny!” and he would pick his head up from his hay and prick his ears in their direction. We all miss him.

Johnny went Advanced in his day, and had the biggest heart. He loved jumping, and would prance in place in the start box on cross-country, waiting to gallop enthusiastically to the first jump. But as wild and forward as he could be under saddle, Johnny was a consummate gentleman on the ground, and sweet as a puppy. He would put his nose very close to his person’s chest, and then flop his ears, close his eyes, and sigh in contentment. He enjoyed hugs to his face. He was already at our farm when I arrived, and Surya arrived, in the winter of 2012. I met ARF just before she started leasing him, and we quickly became friends. So Johnny accompanied Surya on her first trail rides around the farm. He was often in the ring as we struggled with the trot, and then the canter. He showed Surya that the water hose was not scary in the summer months, and that clippers could be tolerated in the fall. He rolled his eyes at some of Surya’s antics, but flagged his tail too when the cold weather arrived.

Though the ending was sad, I do not regret knowing him. ARF loved that horse like he was her child, and he brought her to her first events. His time here was beautiful.

My heart broke a few times and expanded a lot in 2012. And though I would have been satisfied if it had, I am so glad the world did not end! Especially since I attended a bar crawl dressed in footie pajamas and a fluffy sparkly candy cane headband on December 21^st, and that is not how I want to greet the afterlife.

In a few days I will raise a glass to loves won, to old warriors, to friends, to young clumsy ones, to family, to wild tangled trees, and to loves lost, for auld lang syne. May you all find joy, peace, and magic in the New Year.

Pictures

I promised pictures, so here are some glorious ones, from Melanie Pack at i{mpack}t studio (impacktstudio.com), all from Show No. 3. Please do not repost these without permission. Thanks!

Being cute in a wash stall.

Dressage test. She's bearing down on the bridle here, but being very good and not running away.

Jumping a clear round!

Still jumping; we trotted between jumps.

Walking to the jump arena.

My face is very happy despite my lower leg hanging out west of the Mississippi.

Also during the dressage test.

Note the weird clip job Surya has on her sides and belly. This is a result of the fact that she was very scared of the clippers, and I had not finished teaching her to associate them with grain when the show occurred. So she is half-clipped. Also, these pictures are all from before my dressage meltdown. Maybe we are better now?