Saturday, March 24, 2018

Shut Up And Ride!

That's pretty much what my trainer told me in this week's lesson.  The California Horse was a bit off, due to having a case of scratches on his right hind pastern currently, so she was kind enough to put me up on her own horse.  Then, on this horse that I have ridden exactly four separate times now in the past two years (so, basically a strange horse to me), she proceeded to grill me on inside leg to outside rein, as well as elbows and hands that are communicating with the horse's mouth without either being too fiddly or too rigid and stuck, and all manner of lateral work.

You see, just because I can do it fairly well on one horse (The California Horse, whom I've been riding for about nine months now) doesn't automatically mean I can do it just as easily and just as well on another horse.  And just because something is difficult on The California Horse (who is quite a big lug and not the greatest about having contact with the bit versus just hovering lightly on it in what looks like a connected frame) doesn't mean it is difficult for me on a different horse.

And so, I rode, my trainer calling out orders and corrections.  As her horse and I felt each other out a little bit and began to work together more as a team, the orders (directions) came closer together.

"Ride this corner deep and come out in shoulder in."
"At B (halfway down the wall from that corner we just came out of) change to travers."
"Keep the bend through this coming corner, and ride half-pass back to B"

So many directions!  So many movements strung together!  When she said half-pass I started to say "Uh, okay, if I can" but was cut off by "Don't talk, just ride!!"

And you know what, I rode that sequence, shoulder-in right to travers off left leg to half-pass right pretty darn good.  I was impressed with myself.  Usually we straighten between movements for a few strides so I can think about and prepare for each one.  What she just proved to me with those rapid fire demands is that if I concentrate I can flow from one to the other.  But talking takes away just a big enough piece of that concentration to make it difficult or even impossible to dance the horse across the arena that way.

After I finished the sequence, she apologized for yelling at me to shut up (although honestly, her voice got urgent but not louder, so technically not yelling).  I told her that was okay, I understood why, that it had immediately become apparent why.  When my mouth didn't run, my body instinctively made the little adjustments in seat and leg and rein connection that made it possible to glide beautifully even on an unfamiliar horse.  And, with my mouth not running, my brain for the first time understood the similarity between shoulder-in, travers, and half-pass. They are virtually the same, the only difference is whether my inside seat bone is guiding the inside hind leg to step under here, or the inside foreleg to step diagonally there, and is the inside thigh/knee pushing the horse to move diagonally toward the outside shoulder or just keeping the bend.

We typically both enjoy our lessons together, there is a lot of give and take in discussion during most lessons, especially because I love riding theory.  There have even been a few times when I have expressed an observation I've made and it has impressed my trainer as a true statement that she'd never thought of.

But, sometimes, it's best just to shut up and ride.  Sometimes you have to just instinctively do it, instead of verbally dissecting it first.

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