Dressage Lessons: Do Something Different
As Elf and I go back to work for our second season of Dressage, the work becomes more and more about being specific – both in intention and application. Something that would benefit any aspect of my life.
I enjoyed taking a step back over the last few months. After our last show in September, that niggling feeling that I wasn’t just fighting Elf’s need to be in control all the time bloomed into conviction that something physical needed to be addressed. After the world’s most thorough lameness exam & one exhausted vet, we determined two things. One, my darling dramatic boy is remarkably balanced in his imbalance. And two, there was something in the right hind and it was probably the hock. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a single really accurate way to dial down any more specifics than that. Based on purely my gut feeling and observations, I also requested several back xrays that revealed inflammation in several places. It could be nothing but….
I decided to be proactive. This horse is with me for life, so long term comfort is by far the primary concern. I opted for back and hock injects to address inflammation and an extensive reconditioning plan that would slowly bring him back to work after a month of complete rest. I think my vet thought I was being a tad on the overprotective side considering Elf was in the Not Quite Right category, but he likely simply blessed overprotective horse owners and mentally thanked me for helping to pay his mortgage.
After this injections, I left Elf alone for the rest of September and the first part of October. By then, Central Texas’s scorching summer heat had eased into a much more pleasant fall and we started a routine of 3x/week trail rides. During our trail rides, I made a point to keep him actively marching forward and asked for lots of stretching down to the bit. We had started back into lessons, still focusing on stretching and increasing his activity behind when I broke my finger and he earned another month+ vacation over the holidays.
Coming back in January, I switched his bit from a full check to an egg butt with the thought that a more stable platform might help him settle into consistent contact. And off we went. Getting back to more structured work, I was surprised to find that he was more forward and more willing than at any point in three years he’s been with me. His back was easier to engage and his brain was just THERE. With the cautious optimism familiar to any rider who partners with a sensitive equine, we returned to regular lessons for the first time after four months of rehab + off & on work.
Getting Precise With The Basics
When we started back into regular lessons, it was clear that the stretching work had been beneficial. Elf was much more willing and able to stretch and that had become his comfort zone. But we still dealt with avoidance and fussing when I shortened the reins, so the first objective was reinforce the message that he was expected to push into the contact where it was – instead of just when he wanted to.
He’s always an interesting horse to describe – and he doesn’t feel anything like he looks. From the ground, he looks smooth and steady. In the saddle, he feels like a powerful bundle of energy (and not all of it moving in the same direction). Riding him takes an incredible amount of core strength – even my trainer prefers to ride him first thing in the morning when I ask for a pro ride because she also finds him tiring. Fortunately, he is pretty consistently in front of the leg and all the flexion & stretching work of the last year means that his back much more bridge than 2×4 now.
Right now, he’s starting to become more confident in what we’re asking of him but it has to be black and white. If he pops above the bit (which happens with every transition at the beginning of our ride) my legs go on, my inside seat bone pushes him out in a leg yield to help him engage from behind, my hands go with him to maintain the same soft connection and the pressure simply stays until he softens to the contact. My instinct is to drop my hands into a low & wide position, a leftover from years of riding behind-the-leg green beans that needed an invitation in the hand. Elf doesn’t need that. Instead, my overly emotional guy needs to know that he should stay HERE – between my leg and hand with a soft, following connection – on a steady pace. Making it black and white takes the anxiety out of it for him and you can see it in his work.
The interesting thing we’ve discovered is that once he settles into a consistent connection he is remarkably sensitive to seat aides. The problem is wading through the stiffness and anxiety and shut down that had become his normal before he came to me. The difference in him from 15 months ago when I started dressage lessons is amazing. In our first few months of lessons, it would take the entire lesson to walk, trot, canter and do a well formed 20m circle without an unscheduled arena exit or other hissy fit moves. Now, we’re refining transitions between and within the gaits and able to work through more difficult things like counter canter.
Of course, the challenge in this solution is that I have to be both proactive and patient. I need to resist the urge to drop, instead offering him a consistent place to come meet me at. At the same time, my legs and seat have to push – not literally necessarily but asking for him to stay forward, encouraging him to think leg yield or haunches in depending on the direction to maintain straightness. Both are required to maintain that circle of energy that is a horse in self-carriage.
Proactive and Patient
After my lesson, I found myself circling around that central idea. It applies to so many things. Like many creatives, I tend to work in bursts of focused energy. The momentum will eventually ebb and I’ll either switch to another project or focus on organization, maintenance, and daily work until another creative burst. Over the years, I’ve learned to both moderate my work flow and work with it. I plan my day so that my most challenging work is the focus during the times that I tend to be most productive and I do my best to leave a little flex in my schedule so that I’m able to utilize those moments of inspirations – especially for writing.
But for other goals, that doesn’t really work. I’ve made a ton of progress on a huge range of goals in the last couple of years, but one keeps getting away from me – my weight. I have made some progress, losing 22 lbs with PiYo and the 21 Day Fix, but I have 60 more to go. In my lessons, when Elf and I are stuck (usually because he’s resisting the bend I’m asking for), Deirdre will suggest one of our arsenal of tools to gently direct him to the right answer: leg yielding on the circle, haunches in, shoulder in or transitions. I have a tendency to be very soft with these corrections, left over from the first couple years together where the primary concern was earning Elf’s trust. But we’ve gotten there, we’re ready for more work. So, when my aids aren’t getting a reaction Deirdre will yell “Do something! If he doesn’t respond, do something, anything different.”
For more than a year, I haven’t made much progress with my weight loss but I’ve plugged along with my current plan, more focused on other things. But this goal, hard as it is, matters. It is about my health, my wellness. It deserves more of my attention. It’s time to do something different. So, I am. I’m going to knock off another of my 101 in 1001 goals and do 3 months of Crossfit with a local, veteran owned gym who also happens to be an experienced power lifter (personally, I think Crossfit without training behind can be dangerous). On top of that, I’m joining my trainer’s new membership site Equestrian Athletes – offering fitness solutions specifically for equestrians.
Sometimes, you just have to do something different.
