I Finally Bit The Bullet...

The last time I showed. With Sug in October 2013.

I went to a horse show. Which I've done before. To watch other people show. However, this time I was the one that horse showed.  Me. On Indy.  The two of us together.

To give you an idea of what a BIG DEAL this is, let me share this factoid with you: The last time I horse showed was on the Sainted Mare almost 4 years ago.  So yeah, there was a lot of rust to shake off.  Like a 1963 Chevy pickup truck that's been left unloved in the back yard for 30 years worth of rust.

I've waited almost 2 years to show Indy because when I got him he hadn't had a lot of experience and tended to get a whopping case of Baby Brain/ADD at shows (BBADD?? Bwahahaha!)  So, being the excellent mother that I am,  I let my daughter show him, as Sophie's a better rider and bounces better than I do.  (Ah yes, a true Mother of the Year moment right there).  In his defense, we don't have a big show budget so we typically don't get to show much. However, Indy has been getting better and better each time out. (Thank you, Sophie!) Earlier this spring my trainer showed him and Indy was a rock star and champion in his division.  As it seemed my youngun was growing up I figured that maybe it was time for me for me to put on my BGPs and take a crack at showing myself.

When the fateful weekend arrived Noah and I packed up the HMS Valium the night before just to make sure we had everything in order.   I prepped my show bag and then checked it 5 times to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything.  Shirt, jacket, breeches, belt? Yep.  Ibuprofen? Check.  Extra contact lenses? Check. Sunscreen because I'm a pasty white chick that burns easily? Yep.  Band-aids? Tums and Imodium in case of gastrointestinal distress?  Yes and Yes.  Valium? HELL YES! (Hey, Indy gets his Perfect Prep, I get mine).

I set two alarms for 4AM, even thought I always wake up every hour on the hour when I know I have to be somewhere.  I visualized my rounds, which I found difficult because I didn't know the courses.  Yes, I'm insane.  Of course I didn't know the courses and my stupid mind gets hung up on the fact that without knowing I can't visualize accurately and then I have an internal dialogue telling myself it doesn't matter and to just make one up for the love of GAWD! (If you've ever seen the Lord of the Rings movies, picture Gollum talking to himself. Seriously, that's how my mind works. It's exhausting.)

Thankfully when we got to the show there was plenty of parking where I could park head-in and drive straight out (because I'm still neurotic about backing up). I got my number and by the time I got back to the trailer it was time to get on and school.  We schooled, looked over the courses, and before I could overthink things my trainer shoved me into the ring.

via GIPHY

Me when I don't need to back up the trailer

I biffed the first fence.  "Well," I thought, "got that out of the way! Might as well kick on and see what we can get from here."  The rest of the course actually went pretty well, except from the flyer on the way out of the diagonal line.  I came out of the ring and my trainer was smiling ear to ear and bouncing up and down with excitement.  "That was awesome!  I'm so proud of you!"  I laughed because of course it wasn't awesome, but it was a pretty decent start. We briefly covered the 'learning moments' from round one, planned the next course and then he shoved me back in the ring.  (Smart man - he knows not to give me time to overthink things).  The second round went less well than the first but I came out of the ring smiling anyway. "Not what we hoped for but we still got around in one peice!" was what I said to my trainer.  He didn't seem phased by my mistakes at all. Quite frankly, I think he was so excited and proud that I was finally horse showing my actual performance didn't matter.

Indy was being such a good boy despite my mistakes, no tension or ADD moments, just doing his job and taking care of me.  Our last round was fabulous.  I mean, it was the kind of round I'd dreamed of having.  Was it perfect? No.  But it was smooth and we did the numbers and the right distances showed themselves and I think I smiled the whole way around. When Indy and I left the ring the smile on my trainer's face made the day for me.  "That was wonderful! Amy, you should be so proud of yourself!  Look what you did today! You haven't shown in years and you came out and you rode so well!"

Our last round. (Apologies for the finger).

After we finished it was my son Noah's turn to ride Mooch in the 3' jumpers.  There were a lot of entries in the class, so it took forever.  Shortly after thier first round Indy let us know he was ready to go home.  He started loudly voicing his displeasure and we could hear his hollering all the way up at the jumper ring.  He started with the occassional whinny, then the frequency and decible level gradually increased. I went to check on him, offered him water, gave him a treat and fussed over him a bit, and then turned to go back to Noah and Mooch.

I got about 10 feet from the trailer when he shrieked again. "Mom-mmeeeeeeeeee! Don't go! I'm bored!"  He hollered throughout the entire second class.  "Mommy! Mommy!  Mom-meeeeeeee! Mom! Momma! Dammit woman, I'm talking to you!"  At some point in the third class he started pawing as well.  And not just regular pawing, but the kind where he brings his leg up until it's parallel to the floor and then slams his hoof down so hard it sounds like he's gonna bust a hole in the floor.

So I went back to the trailer again.  He saw me and immediately stopped yelling and pawing, and I swear the little turd smiled at me.  "You're back!! I missed you! Is Mooch done? Can we go home now? I'm bored."  I hung out with him, offered him more water, played with him a bit and when I thought he would behave went back to jumperland to wath Noah. I was barely gone a minute before the little booger started up again.

I (bam!) Want (bam!) To (bam!) Go (bam!) Home! (bam!)

Aaaaannnnnddd that continued until Mooch and Noah finished and went back to the trailer.  He finally shut up once Mooch was on the trailer and we were ready to pull out.  By that point I think my ears were bleeding.

On the plus side, Indy seems to have a good understanding of how the actual showing part of the experience should go.  Clearly we're gonna have to do some serious work on his trailer manners, though.  

In Which Indy Meets Marilyn Payne, And Things Go Well

"Dis is mah cute face!"

When you have someone like eventer and international eventing/dressage judge Marilyn Payne practically in your back yard, it makes a heck of a lot of sense to take the opportunity to learn from her.  Regardless of which equestrian discipline you actually practice.  So when a friend of mine posted a video on Facebook showing her and her horse at a recent jumping clinic with Marilyn, I asked her if she knew of future events I could participate in.  As luck would have it, there was another scheduled for the end of March.

I signed up for the clinic, and then begged my wonderful friend Marissa to come along for help and moral support.  As a card carrying neurotic and doomsayer, I'm better at looking at what could go wrong, rather than what could go right.  Emergencies and upheavals are always easier to deal with when you have someone calm and reasonable with you, and Marissa is the voice of reason in my equestrian life.  She may not ever come out with me again, as I no doubt drove her nuts with my crazy texts about various what if scenarios. The poor woman had to deal with stuff like this:

Me: Is it the worst thing in the world if we just load Indy on the left side of the trailer?  We're only going 10 minutes down the road. He's smaller than Mooch but loads better on the left and I don't want to make loading a big production.  We're working on it and he's improved so much but I don't want to push it....
Marissa: That's fine.


Me: Parking is in a field. It's supposed to rain.  What if I get stuck?  Do you think the Tahoe will get stuck?  It should be fine, right?  Should I go to Home Depot and get wooden boards just in case?  Would that help?
Marissa: Do you have 4-wheel drive? I think it should be ok but I guess it couldn't hurt.

Me: Do you think hanging a lickit or something in the trailer would keep Indy from screaming when he's in the trailer by himself?
Marissa: Worth a try. But I'd hang it after you park.   (In my defense, I did intend to hang it only after we arrived, but after all my other texts you can't blame the girl for wondering what level my crazy was at.)

Indy loaded perfectly. (Good Boy!)   We got there early, so there was plenty of room for me to roll in and do a big turn so I was facing the exit. (I suck at backing up.)  Since we were so ridiculously early (helloooo, neurotic!) we had plenty of time to get the lay of the land and check out the class before us.   Shockingly, Indy remained quietly munching his hay in the trailer while we were gone. (Good Boy!)

"What?? I'm fine. I'm a big boy now. Nothing to see here."

The first jump I saw when we entered the area was a black and white pole set over 2 black and white barrels painted to look like cows.  There was a 2' plastic cow in front of the standards on either side.  I thought Indy was gonna plotz, but he barely registered it.

Marilyn called me over to ask for some background on Indy and our training together. "He's quite cute," she said when we got close.  Indy, sensing a potential friend, stuck his nose out to give her a friendly bump.

Indy: Hi Marilyn! You're cute too!  I like your place.  There are lots of jumps. I like jumping!  What's with the cows? I've never seen a cow jump before!  Can we start jumping now?

We started over poles set in a circle like a clock, with the poles on 12, 3, 6, and 9, spiraling in and out in the trot and canter. We did that fairly well.  Then we progressed to the actual jumping.  Marilyn told us we would jump each element individually before tackling the entire course.  OK, no problem, we've got this, I thought.

I was wrong.  "Where do you think your focus point should be? Where would you jump this fence?"" she asked as she pointed to the first fence.  My brain blanked.  "Wait, what?? There's a quiz?"  Each jump followed the same process; we were asked where we should focus our eyes (not just the last window, but the bottom right corner of the last window) and what part of the fence we should jump (the high part of a Swedish oxer and the corner of a corner jump.)  It was good exercise for me, as my mind tends to be in a "What Am I Jumping Thank God I Survived Holy Shit Where Do I Go Now?" jumble and the way we were approaching things forced me be more thoughtful and also built in a pause/reset moment after every fence.   Indy was totally fine with the repetition, which surprised me as normally he gets annoyed at having to do something more than a couple times.  He very clearly feels "I did what you asked, now let's move on."

Things Marilyn had me working on:

• Straightness
• Picking focus spots and actually using them (Marilyn: "Amy, where were you looking on the approach to that fence?"  Me: "Ummmm, at B?"  Marilyn: "Were you really looking at B?" Me: Ummmm, no." Marilyn: "Do you know where you were looking?" Me: "Ummm, not really.")
• Being more mindful. Not just about where to look and how to jump each obstacle but about how I rode in between them and how that sets me up for the next fence.
• Opening the outside rein for a counter bend and adding a strong inside leg (almost thinking leg yield) around the corners as Indy tends to lean on the inside shoulder around turns.  This was so  different than what I've always done it was damn near an impossible task.  My mind was sending out instructions and my body was adamantly ignoring them.  I finally managed to do this somewhat successfully on the last course. 

Oddly enough, the task I found the most difficult during the clinic is probably my most important take away.  Indy does not like the ends of the ring, as there are large doors and he feels there are BAD THINGS on the other side of those doors.  He often will drop his inside shoulder and duck to the inside, porpoising around the short side of the arena.  Which I find a bit nerve-wracking, to say the least.  The other day I could feel him getting ready to do it and I opened my outside rein to counter bend him and held my inside leg against his side like it was a steel column.  Lo and behold, no porpoising!

I liked working with Marilyn a lot, and am going to try to see if we can set up something once a month or so. I'd love to get help from her on our flatwork as well as our jumping.  Will keep you posted...

Neverthess, She Persisted...The Memes

"Nevertheless, she persisted" has become an overnight battle cry and the subject of a gazillion tweets (#LetLizSpeak, #ShePersisted), memes, and t-shirts since Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said while defending of his silencing of Senator Elizabeth Warren during her speech criticizing attorney general nominee Sen. Jeff Sessions.

The other day I shamelessly used it as a metaphor for my personal holy grail, my crusade to become a better rider in the face of much mediocrity.

So I figured what the heck, it'd be fun to create a few memes showcasing some of my greatest awkward equestrian moments.  I'm on Sug in all of them.  I guess I haven't had enough photo ops with Indy yet, although God knows there have been meme-worthy moments with him.
 
Note that The Sainted Mare literally jumped out of her shoe when I asked her for a little extra effort over this oxer. (It's by her nose.)


 

The Sainted One was a bit behind the leg this day and I felt we needed a little extra oomph to jump this oxer.  Apparently I was a little over-zealous in my request. Oxers were our nemesis, for some reason.  The "Oh Shit!" look on my face is priceless.  And you can't tell in this photo, but I jumped this entire round with my fly down.  (The photographer was kind enough to point that out to me after I finished.)

 



 

Yet another oxer.  Sug opted for the Rider Override and went for the flyer here.  I'm pretty sure I dropped a very audible F-bomb as we took off.  Nothing like keeping it G-rated at the horse show, what with the kids 40 feet to the left of me and all....

So there you have it.  Despite many, many awkward moments I persist at trying to get better at this riding thing.  Thank God for the patience and fortitude of my equine partners.

Feel free to share any of your "Nevertheless, she persisted" equestrian moments. It'd be fun to make a gallery, don't you think?

Nevertheless, She Persisted...

No, this is not a political post. Apologies to Elizabeth Warren, but I've decided that phrase neatly summarizes my efforts to become a good rider.  Okay, maybe I should really say "adequate rider."  Right now "good rider" feels like I'd be setting the bar too high.

Have you ever had those "I suck at this and should be banned from ever throwing my leg across a horse's back" rides?  The kind where you feel that your brain is telling your body parts what to do and those body parts are replying  "No comprende."

I've had several of those rides recently.  Some nights I just give up and say "Tonight's just a fitness night, Indy.  We're going to do trot and canter sets with you on the buckle and Mommy in a two-point so I can say I'm building strength and doing something productive."

It's not all bad. I have had some successes.  Instead of being Queen Calculator (adding strides to Every.Single.Fence) I have been riding boldly to fences, almost like I did when I was a kid.  Mind you, I feel like an unbalanced sack of potatoes cowboying her way around a course, but at least I'm doing the numbers.  I yearn for the day when I can actually produce a smooth round, but lately that day feels more like a fantasy than a potential reality.

Another bright moment was the other daywhen one of my trainers was riding Indy and said that Indy was becoming more fun to ride, as he was more broke and balanced.  That was nice to hear.  My trainer does the occasional training ride on Indy, but 90% of his training over the year I've had him has been done by my daughter and me.  So that made me feel that I can't suck too badly, as at least he'd improved.  And of course I ruined that moment by thinking, "Imagine what he'd feel like now if he'd gotten more training rides."  Sometimes I wish I could tell my mind to just shut the hell up for once.  I try, but it never listens.

Despite feeling that I will never be more than an adequate rider at best, I still try.  I take regular lessons when I'm not traveling.  I do my best to ride five days a week.  I read books and try to incorporate what I've learned into my riding.

So while I may never be a good rider, there is one thing I feel I can say about myself. Whether its folly, stubborn bullheadedness, or sheer determination, at least I've persisted.