Thursday, December 10, 2009

Reflections...

It's officially winter in Wisconsin. We got over a foot of snow yesterday during the blizzard and today it was below zero. Days like this, I have to wonder why exactly I live in Wisconsin (although I do love it here). And then when I head out to the barn, I have to wonder why I ride during our cold season. But then I realize that my fat winter gloves keep my hands more still, that trotting through the snow makes a great cardio workout, and that now is the perfect time to work on my balance and position bareback. I also remember that I have access to space heaters and hand warmers, so I guess it's not so bad, after all.

It's the end of my "assigned" blogging time, so I also thought this might be a good time to reflect on what exactly has happened during my blog experience. Most importantly, I've noticed how easy it is for me to drift off topic when I don't write within the constraints of an article. This is good and bad, I guess; I can cover things I may not otherwise think of, but it's hard to stay organized. However, the ease of posting is great. It's quite simple to get published on your own blog!

With all the changes in the journalism world, I can't help but be nervous about my prospects as a freelance writer/journalist (I'm a Life Sciences Communication major). If everyone can write about everything, who needs journalists? The thing is, I think we may need journalists now more than ever. Now is the time for outstanding writing. Now is the time to stand above the masses of writers with creativity, conciseness, and style. There's a ton of unpolished writing on the internet (including this blog, I now realize), so the good writers might have to work a little to get noticed. But they will get noticed. Journalism isn't going anywhere. It might wear a different suit, but its core is the same as it always was.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Perspective

So every once in a while I get to thinking about something. It's usually when I'm riding along, thinking, "I need 1/2 ounce more pressure in my left rein, and I think the mare's not tracking up as much as she should be on her right hind, and my ears need to be further back, and my heels should be down another centimeter or two, and is she really giving to my leg?"

Or when I'm teaching, telling a student, "You need to bring your shoulders back an inch, and your right pinky finger needs to be closed, and keep that knee down, and he's slightly locked in his left jaw, and we need a tiny bit more impulsion."

You get the idea. We all know what that feels like. But once in a while I take a step back and think about what others must think of us. Frankly, they probably think we're crazy. I don't wonder why dressage riders get the reputation of being uptight control freaks. It's not a stretch of the imagination to see us that way!

However, I don't think that we are. I'm not, anyways, or at least I try not to be. It's just that precision is so important. When you're in there, when you're riding or helping someone else, it's so easy to get wrapped up in these minute (yet important) details. Yet at the same time, we need to think of the overall picture to keep ourselves sane and to keep it in perspective. It's all about that perspective. From the outside, we might seem out of our minds. From the inside, it's all important.

As long as it's fun, I don't think it really matters from where you're looking.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Cross Training, Round Two

I realize I'm veering off the prescribed topic slightly. But I had something to say, and I didn't know where else to say it.

Last weekend, I attended a Boyd Martin clinic for dressage and show jumping with a Haflinger mare who's coming back into work after having a foal. For those of you unfamiliar with Boyd, he's an Australia native upper level eventer who's been quite successful competing internationally.

Obviously, Boyd is a better rider than me; that's why I paid over $300 to ride with him. As with any lesson, I expected that he would give me exercises suitable to me and my mount, constructive criticism and critiques, and things to work on at home. That's what I try to provide to my own students.

While he was very friendly, the lessons were not very helpful, especially the jumping lesson. Boyd sent the other riders and me through the jumping exercises with hardly any feedback. After completing a round of anywhere from five to fifteen jumps, he would say, "That was good." It's great to hear something positive, but to me, that's not the purpose of a lesson. I want to hear what parts were good, what needs work, and what I need to do differently to improve. Because that's why I'm there-to improve!

After one of my rounds, Boyd didn't even say anything; he walked towards the next jumps with the group of riders. I did get the impression he wasn't too thrilled with the pony or me, but I had a right to be there, just like everyone else.

Because I was riding a pony, I knew the striding would be different through the lines than for the bigger horses. I told Boyd this, but he told me to just try to make it anyways, which I did. One of the exercises was a line of five verticals one (horse) stride apart. Having jumped the pony quite a bit (with various trainers in similar grids, as well), I knew that I would be able to get the distances for a few of the combinations, but not all. Again, I told Boyd this. He told me to try anyways, so we fumbled through. Placing poles in between the jumps prevented us from trying for two strides, so the mare had to struggle through the end of the exercise, time after time. But like before, we did not get any feedback on our attempts.

I'm sure Boyd is a nice guy. He might even be a great teacher; maybe he had an off weekend. But by the end of the clinic, I went home wondering if the lessons had harmed the horse more than they had helped. I went home wondering if our riding is so poor he didn't even feel it necessary to comment on it. And considering he didn't give anyone much advice, I have to wonder if he feels that it is a waste of time to be teaching lower level riders.

I would hope that these things aren't true. But, as many have pointed out before me, we pay Boyd's salary, we let him compete at the highest levels of this sport, and whether they think we're valid or not, we are riders. We're trying to educate and further ourselves, and I would think that alone would be enough motivation to teach us.

So I learned. I likely won't take lessons with him again. And again, as I've learned so many times before (and will re-learn hundreds more times, I'm sure): listen to the horse. The horse knows, better than all of us, what's right or wrong.

We just have to listen.

Monday, November 16, 2009

A little bit of cross-training...

So this is going to be a little more upbeat than last time.

Last weekend, I hosted a vaulting clinic with Karin and Rebekah Meister of the Heart of Illinois Vaulters. What is vaulting? More or less, gymnastics on horseback. Most importantly, it's a lot of fun. I had a turnout of fifteen, most of them under eighteen, but a few adults who had just as much fun as the kids.

So what on earth does this have to do with dressage? In my opinion, quite a bit. Just as we cross-train our horses with jumping, trail riding, and roadwork, there's a lot to be said for cross-training ourselves.

Vaulters gain:
  • Strength: To vault safely, you need to have strong ab, back, and leg muscles (or core muscles!). These are the same muscles you need to ride effectively.
  • Balance: Vaulting moves are ultimately done on the back of a moving horse. Not only do vaulters have to keep their balance on the horse in a sitting position without hands, they have to do gymnastic exercises while staying with the horse's movement. The horse sets the rhythm and pace, and the vaulters need to move with the horse.
  • Flexibility: Just as with gymnastics, flexibility is an important part of making the moves look graceful and correct. Muscular flexibility helps keep tissues healthy and in good shape.
  • Trust: When you're hanging upside down off the side of the horse, you have to trust not only in the person lunging the horse, you have to have faith in your mount. While we probably don't want to do vaulting on every horse, vaulting horses are specially trained to be very good at their jobs. But regardless of the riding style, just as in any relationship, there must be trust. The horse trusts us to get on their backs and treat them fairly, and we have to trust that they are acting from their instincts and training. Where there is no trust, there can be no beautiful riding. Dressage is about communication, and there can only be open communication when the two parties trust each other.
  • Teamwork: Vaulting is traditionally a team sport. It helps vaulters work with each other towards common goals, recognizing the strengths of every vaulter and helping each other along the way.
So these are some of the benefits of vaulting. We had a great time at the clinic, young and older alike. Visit americanvaulting.org for more information.

Monday, October 26, 2009

This cannot be avoided...

I've tried, trust me. But I have to say something after this came out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zo8W2fUjdM4&feature=response_watch

Rollkur. The four-letter word in dressage. Love it, hate it, don't mind it but don't do it, this is a topic that gets everyone riled up. And for good reason, as that video and many others show. This one is exceptional because during the extreme hyperflexion the horse's tongue turns blue and falls out of his mouth. But this does not stop his rider, who continues to ride him rollkured for the remainder of the video segment (and who knows how much longer).

I'm not a veterinarian nor a kinesiologist. However, to learn more about the physical effects of this technique, read Tug of War: Classical versus Modern Dressage or visit www.sustainabledressage.net. Those resources will be able to give you more information on the detrimental effects of rollkur.

After you know something about the physical damage of rollkur, just take a moment to look at rollkured horses and think about what they're doing. Does that position look comfortable? Do those horses look joyful? Are they happy in their work? Are they relaxed? How would you feel if you were forced into that position? Does that uphold the principles of classical dressage?

And the last question, why do these riders practice rollkur? In my opinion, one word: competition.

Maybe that's why I don't compete. Maybe because it's the root of so much evil in the dressage world.

I'll come back to this topic, but I think this is enough to ponder for one day...

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

A bit about babies...

The other day I went to a North American Sportpony inspection. I always find these to be well-run, fairly objective evaluations of youngstock and breeding animals, and this year was no exception. But the judge had some interesting comments about the Grand Champion.

This young colt scored 8.5 overall, with a 9 on his overall movement. First, the judge discovered that his owner was an adult amateur. Upon this news, the judge was thrilled with the owner's decision to geld the colt, despite his high scores and beauty. The judge also loved the colt's quiet, sane temperament, and commented frequently on it.

What do I take away from this? Dressage breeders need to breed horses and ponies with quality conformation, movement, and above all, attitude. A "9" mover has no value if he's unusable. Even a breeding animal needs to have a reasonable temperament to handle the challenges that come with breeding and having babies. In a country full of adult amateurs who may never aspire to the upper levels of dressage training, the brain of the horse makes all the difference.

In general, I wouldn't be opposed to stricter breeding regulations across the board, but I beg of all breeders: reproduce only the horses who are trainable! Regardless of how nice the horse is, if I don't look forward to seeing his pricked ears at the pasture gate, if I don't feel safe on him, if he is very difficult to train, I wouldn't want to ride him. And trust me, I'm not the only one.

Bottom line? Not all animals need to be bred. Breed quality, both in mind and body. That makes the journey way more fun for everyone :)

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Who does dressage?

One of the things I love about dressage is that done well, it really is for everyone: every horse, every rider. See, what I consider dressage tends to differ from other people's definition of dressage. To me, dressage is good riding and training based on classical principles that is done for the horse and for the horseperson. Call it a sport or an art or a hobby, but I think if it's done well, it's dressage.

I haven't met a horse yet who hasn't benefited from correct schooling. Granted, I'm not very old and there are hundreds of thousands of horses I haven't met, but the premise is the same. Each horse progresses differently and has different limits, and just like the horses, we have limits, too. Maybe that's why I think competitive dressage is different from real dressage. Many competitors don't think that slogging along in the basics or bringing an untalented horse to the best of his potential is fun, because you're not winning and you're not moving through the levels. But you're learning and you're improving and to tell you the truth, there are lots of horses out there who need good riding.

So whether you're a sixty-year-old beginner or an eight-year-old girl or anywhere in between, whether you're riding an off the track thoroughbred or a pony or a warmblood or a mule, in my opinion, dressage is for you.

For a look at the horses I do dressage with, go here:
www.happyhaflingers.com

I think the name of that farm says it all. Above all else, we and our horses should be happy :)

Sunday, September 27, 2009

The allure of the frame

I was teaching a lesson the other day to a horse I'd started earlier in the year and his owner. They did well, especially considering the owner's new to dressage and new to riding her four-year-old. She had taken some lessons in the meantime, and while she realized the error of the other instructor's teaching, I am continually amazed at the importance others put on arbitrary elements. Mostly, the head and neck.

Is his nose on the vertical? That is the biggest question in the minds of many dressage riders and instructors. Even if they preach to be classical dressage enthusiasts, there they are, futzing and playing and seesawing because obviously if the head isn't right, nothing is right.

I don't believe in putting a headset on a horse, and I dislike the words "frame" and "on the bit." People tend to be visual creatures, so we believe what we can see -- the head and neck. Too often, the back and hind end and suppleness are ignored, swept under the desire for a horse who looks nice.

That's the thing about dressage. It's not always pretty. But it is systematic, and the result of conscientious, careful work is a pretty picture. That doesn't mean one method works for every horse. It doesn't have anything to do with the tack or equipment or even the goal for which a trainer is working. Dressage is good training, regardless of the rider. In my mind, good training is that which benefits the horse, which the horse is happy to participate in, and which is done for the horse's well-being.

Whatever else dressage is, it is not a headset.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Why we're here

So here it is: the lame first post of my blog, as I imagine all first blog posts are. But really, what do I know about blogging. That's not what we're here for.

We're here for the dressage.

I am not a competitive dressage rider. I have no money nor desire to compete. But I do dressage anyways, and while everyone talks about their competitive goals and moving through the levels, I tend to play with the horses, finding routines and exercises that improve them and me at the same time. I set goals, I accomplish them or I don't, but I try not to stress about the whole thing. It's the journey, right?

Yet for so many it's not. It's about the scores and the ribbons and the fancy warmbloods, and I feel that the reason we're all here is being forgotten. I have nothing against the scores and the ribbons and the fancy warmbloods, but I want something more.

And I don't think I'm the only one.