On our Classical Dressage Discussion List I seem to have started a little controversy with my remarks that riding hurts sometimes. Some of you, especially those of you who ride with me, understood what I meant. Others misunderstood me, so I will try to clarify.

First of all, when I say that riding hurts, I don’t mean that it hurts all the time, obviously, but that occasional (physical as well as mental) growing pains are an integral part of growth. (Cf. Sherry Ackerman, Dressage in the 4th Dimension, p. 28: “There is no gnosis without pain”).

Nobody can have good performances all the time. Each high quality performance has to be earned by many practice sessions that bring us face to face with our limits and our current shortcomings. C.A.Huang & J.Lynch quote the Buddhist proverb “The arrow that hits the bull’s eye is the result of a hundred misses” in their book “Thinking body, dancing mind” (1992, 93). This captures very well the essence of what I am trying to say. Every correctly executed half halt, e.g. is the result of many others in which the timing, coordination, and intensity of the aids was incorrect, which led to completely different results than we had intended.”

P.T. SUDO talks about the same phenomenon in his book “Zen Guitar”, 1998, 44: “Frustration results when the body will not perform as the mind directs, or the mind becomes confused about what it wants the body to do. These confrontations are an integral part of training. They bring us face to face with our motivations and limitations: Why are we putting in all these hours of practice? Why do we desire what we desire? Are we willing to make the sacrifice necessary to progress? Are we asking more of our body than it can do?”

These two quotes make it clear that the mental anguish I was referring to has little, if anything, to do with the teacher, nor is it unique to riding. It arises from our caring, our passion about what we do, in our particular case: riding. Serious riders, and I am only talking about those who want to learn to ride in a narrower sense of the word, have to compare themselves all the time with the ideal they strive for – and that is often frustrating.

My own most humbling, even humiliating, moments were always brought about by horses, not people. Sitting on a correctly trained Grand Prix horse, and realizing that one has no control over the horse, is painfully embarrassing. Understanding just how difficult it is to ride something as simple as a correct (my teachers use “correct” synonymously with “perfect”) corner, circle, volte, or transition, is humbling. This frustration comes not from being, unable to do something difficult, being overfaced. It arises from the realization that, no matter how advanced we thought we were, we still have not truly mastered the basics (Once we have mastered the basics, we are masters of the equestrian art). Every time this realization hits home, we become a little more humble, by catching a glimpse of how much farther we still have to go.

The emotional pain comes from wanting to ride well, so much so that it becomes the most important thing in one’s life. In this quest, we reach ceilings in our progress, plateaus that seem to stretch on forever (even if they only last for a few days or weeks). The only way to improve is to re-examine (and question!) everything we do, keep the good things, discard the bad things, and replace them with a better way. The reason for this is that anytime we encounter a problem, whether we are unable to ride our horse on the bit, or whether our horse raises one diagonal higher than the other in the piaffe, the underlying cause is always somewhere in the basics, the training pyramid, and beyond that, in our seat, and the timing, coordination, and intensity of our aids. If we find the mistake we are making in our riding, which causes the flaw in the training pyramid, the original problem will disappear. Finding this mistake requires some serious soul-searching. It has to begin with the admission to ourselves that we are not nearly as good as we may have thought we were. We have to be willing to question everything we have accomplished, everything we thought we knew. And the pain that is caused by this process, and the honesty which is indispensable for it, is probably greater than the pain any trainer can inflict. Sherry Ackerman (1997, 28) puts it very well: “The pain of destroying personal ego cannot be imagined or described: it is beyond words.”

On the other hand, since we have to earn each little bit of progress with so much effort, we treasure even the smallest success. It is something that nobody can take from us. We have earned it, and these moments in which we accomplish a breakthrough and experience the harmony and balance that we dream of, carry us through the moments in which we cannot seem to find the right way. There is nothing like the sense of accomplishment and inner peace that is created by a breakthrough in our riding.

The plateaus have a habit of re-occurring periodically, and they bring the need for a thorough re-evaluation with them each time. Initially, the necessary adjustments can be quite dramatic. The more we progress, the more subtle they can hopefully become. Since we are trying to do something that does not come naturally or easily to most of us, we may get worse in the beginning – until we become comfortable with the new way (of sitting, e.g.). In the long run, the new way will take us beyond the last plateau (if we are on the right track). In time, we will reach a new plateau, and the cycle begins anew. Just like Sisyphus, we go back down to the foot of the mountain in order to start rolling the boulder up the hill again. As soon as we think we have reached the top of the mountain, the rock rolls down, and we realize we have to start over. I don’t believe that this cycle ever ends, no matter how accomplished we may become. The difference between the cycles is that each time we are a little more accomplished, a little more knowledgeable, and hopefully a little wiser than the previous time. P.T.Sudo (1998, 155) describes it this way: “The first rule of mastery is this: Those who think themselves masters are not masters. There can be no letup of your study, no matter how far you’ve come. Even the highest priests of zen say to themselves, mi zai: “Not yet.” You have not yet learned all you can know. You have not given all you can give. You have not yet reached the summit. Empty your cup and keep going. Same mountain, farther up.”

Put differently, each time we reach a goal, we realize that there are other goals behind it, and yet others behind those, without end. Probably all of us have had “bad” rides after which we thought we would never learn how to ride, because things just did not work. At first, we cannot see the reasons why. But if we continue to analyze and to rethink these bad rides, we will eventually figure it out. This is terrible, and it is wonderful at the same time. It is terrible, because there is no quick fix, no shortcut, no easy way, only diligent practice of the correct (!) basics. It is also wonderful, because correct diligent practice will always bring success in the long run. Riding is very democratic that way. We cannot buy a good seat, tact, understanding, and knowledge. We have to earn them.

In hindsight, I think I learned the most from my worst rides, because they challenged me to be brutally honest with myself, and to change the way I thought and the way I rode. As long as I tried to fight the plateau, avoiding to face the necessity of a fundamental re-evaluation, the slump continued. As soon as I admitted to myself that I knew nothing, I was enabled to make progress again. In that sense, the frustration and pain that arise out of mistakes are not only inevitable, they are catalysts in our learning. They are opportunities that we must take advantage of.

What is important here is that the teacher gives the students confidence. No matter how badly I rode, no matter how much I struggled with my own incompetence, my teachers always believed that I could overcome the difficulties, that it was just a matter of time and diligent practice. I try to do the same for my students. When you believe deep down inside that you can do it, and you keep searching honestly, you will always progress.

The teacher has an important function in showing the student the discrepancy between their actual performance and the ideal we are all striving for, which creates frustration. But the teacher also has to instill the confidence in the student that the difficulties can and will be overcome – if the student is willing to do what it takes. This is one of the differences with the Old Masters and many modern trainers. The masters never compromised their standards. They demanded perfect executions of the simple things, and over time, the more advanced work grew out of this.

This takes a lot of patience on the teacher’s part. It means reminding the student of the same things over and over, until he has gained sufficient control over his body to be able to sit correctly and to give correct aids. This kind of work is often tedious, it takes a long time, but once it takes root, the progress is phenomenal. Today many riders and trainers don’t want to subject themselves to this discipline. They skip ahead to the “fun part” without ever mastering the basics, with the result that the more advanced work is fundamentally flawed.

Somebody said the teacher should be an inspiration to the student. Probably the most inspiring teacher I have had is Thomas Faltejsek. He was able to motivate me like nobody else, by conjuring up a vision of perfection and making it seem to be within my reach (in addition to providing us with a shining example of what horse and rider should look like together). On the other hand, he demanded every ounce of effort I could muster, and more (there is no such thing as “good enough” when it comes to the rider). He told me more than once (only half jokingly): “I don’t care if you die trying, but first you WILL RIDE. Then you can die.” I remember one lesson in particular, many years ago, where I thought I was giving everything I had. Then he screamed at me at the top of his lungs (which was quite rare, by the way) – and I discovered that I still had some energy left, after all. It carried the horse across the threshold, and we outgrew ourselves at that moment. If he had been less demanding, I would never have had this experience of success and accomplishment. Thomas Faltejsek has the power to make students ride a couple of levels above their normal ability, because of this mixture of encouragement and strictness.

However, not every student wants to learn how to ride. He also complained to me that people had approached him saying they wanted to learn how to ride. When he presented them with the opportunity to learn, they were unwilling to make the necessary effort. So he felt betrayed and lied to.

This is at the heart of the anecdotes Jessica and Annette related of Dr. Klimke. There are many riders who want a babysitter, someone who cuddles them verbally, and holds their hands while they are going through a number of tricks. These students will never learn how to ride, even though some of them may be able to perform some upper level movements with certain horses.

As far as the physical pain is concerned, I was thinking of my own experiences. Many years ago I went through a phase in which riding without stirrups at the walk and the trot was excruciatingly painful, because the sheer weight of my legs stretched my stiff adductor muscles to such an extent that it sometimes felt as if someone were tearing my legs off. That was just from the weight of the leg itself, without even trying to stretch it actively. Over time, the muscles became more flexible, and the pain went away. I may very well be an extreme case, but I think that everyone who rides seriously has experienced some discomfort and muscle soreness at some point. I don’t believe that there is any top athlete or ballet dancer who reached the top without ever becoming muscle sore, without ever experiencing discomfort or even pain. Progress is only possible by stretching one’s limits, by leaving one’s comfort zone.

One of the attitudes that one encounters more and more often these days is that “riding is supposed to be FUN”, and easy, without discomfort or pain, without frustration. This attitude originates in the myth that there can be mastery without effort. P.T. SUDO addresses this very issue in a completely different context, i.e. playing guitar (1998, 75): “Too many of us today want instant gratification . We want reward without work. We want the thinking done for us. We want to understand something right away or we can’t be bothered. This attitude demeans the accomplishments of those who are true masters.”

Mastering a skill cannot be accomplished with complacency and superficial thrill seeking, but only with serious studying for a period of many years. This is something many riders don’t realize or refuse to acknowledge. Richard Waetjen, one of Egon von Neindorff’s two principal teachers, puts it this way (Dressurreiten, 6th ed. 1989, 19): “It is only the love for the work itself that can help the rider get through the many years with many disappointments and give him the strength not to despair but to continue to strive. The crown of the art of riding can be attained only through decades’ worth of work and experience, and with great patience that precludes temper tantrums and any violence.”

If even a great master like Richard Waetjen experienced the frustration and the emotional pain of learning how to ride, it would be unrealistic of us to think we could find an easier way. Two expressions in Waetjen’s quote probably hold the key to the discussion: “the love for the work itself” and “the crown of the art of riding”. Those people who emphasize the importance of having fun are usually not interested in achieving the classical ideal, nor do they really love the work process.

Rather than looking for “fun” in riding, the rider should enjoy the process of learning (P.T. SUDO, 1998, 39f.”There is joy in the struggle”), including all the ups and downs. When we are trying to accomplish something meaningful in any aspect of life, an art, a sport, a science, it is impossible to do it without a certain share of pain and frustration. The negative experiences are the ones that give meaning and importance to the positive ones. They are the ones that keep us searching for a better way. Success rarely does that (if it ain’t broke, …) Without the struggle we would not value our progress the same way. There always has to be a balance.

© 1999 Thomas Ritter.  All rights reserved.

Maybe you’ve known this forever, or maybe you’re like me, and you had an epiphany that really changed the way you see riding.  But somewhere between begging for pony rides and longing for piaffe the realization sinks in.  Training can be done from the ground or mounted.  But riding…is riding. You’re up there trying to make things work, for better or worse.  You’re training that horse, like it or not.

There’s a reason my Mom’s slogan is Ride Your Horse. It really is the way to improvement – for your riding and hopefully for the horse as well.  Ride your horse –meaning often and well.  And you will know if you are improving or not by what you get back from your horse.

Of course, there are those horses that can have a 2 year old, a disabled rider, or even a complete lunatic on board for a lesson without batting an eyelash or learning bad habits.  These horses know they are putting up with teaching, are few and far between, and are selfless angels.  Zac is one of them.

The other 99.9% of horses in this world cannot be ridden without being influenced.  The epiphany is that good riding does not exist in a vacuum.  It always influences and improves the horse.  There’s no way to say to a horse, “hey, today doesn’t count because I need to work on some stuff”.

“A horse has no future. It cannot greet the sun and say today will be better. It can only reflect upon days of past experiences. It is our job to create a positive past.” ~ Karen West

Horses know what has happened, and they think they know what is going to happen next based on their past experiences.  This is why re-training is so much more difficult than having the correct training applied in the first place.  You have to convince a horse that things can be better without them having a concept of the future.  That means lots of little moments of improvement that slowly make up a new past.  This is not a quick process.  This is the boat most of us who aren’t backing and training babies find ourselves in.

It’s your riding that either creates moments of increased capability (and if you’re lucky, brilliance) or hinders the horse and stunts further progression as an equine athlete – both mentally and physically.  Each error on your part that produces confusion or pain takes you back three steps, while each positive experiences takes you forward one, hopefully.  Those steps will be small in number until you make those positives steps a much bigger part of the horse’s memory and past.  Never forget how important they are and always reward the horse for them.

The point is that when you realize that you are the catalyst for the horse’s development, the goal of improving your riding takes on a new meaning.  Suddenly it’s more than looking in the mirror to see if your leg is underneath you (still important), asking an observer on the ground if your shoulder-in is correct (still important), or thinking your horse’s head position is the most important thing (come on, you know better by now!).  It’s the way your riding affects the horse over time.  As your rides add up, week in and week out, how has the horse changed?  Keep a journal, write this stuff down.

“If a horse becomes more beautiful in the course of his work, it is a sign that the training principles are correct.” ~ Alois Podhaisky

If you can look back and honestly tell yourself that your horse has become a better athlete, has developed the correct muscles, and is progressing according to the training scale, then guess what?  The odds are pretty good that you have also become a better rider during that time.  On the other hand, if your horse suffers from stiffness or other physical ailments not otherwise explained, if you aren’t seeing the correct muscles develop, and if your horse shows irritation and lack of a work ethic…it’s time to look in the mirror.  And then head back to square one.  Don’t think of it as a step backwards.  Think of it as the only way forward from where you are.

This realization that the path to becoming a better rider is to put your skills to the test through the training of a horse has made me turn down offers to ride horses once a week.  The sheer frustration that would result from not being able to consistently help the horse (especially when the horse is ridden by a much less skilled, non-classical minded rider several days a week) would be too much.  I couldn’t fairly ask very much of a horse like that, and I want to practice asking. What I get by asking tells me so much, as the weeks roll by.  Not that a leisurely trail ride on a loose rein isn’t fun, but put me on a horse I know and have a history with so it’s a fun break for both of us, not a meet and greet.

I was really lucky that during my 6 weeks in MI not only did I get to ride Wilt and Zac and several other horses, but my friend Cindy let me make her horse Misty my project.  While I wait for Trixie to become mine, I had been simply dying for a project horse.  Misty had an injury that put her on stall rest for about 7 months, so we were starting all over with her and Cindy was a bit nervous.  Misty is a true mare and can be intimidating.  Don’t let the picture below fool you.  :-P  I rode Misty 5-6 times a week, and we started slowly as she was very out of shape.  Lots of short sessions in the beginning, most of which I had my Mom put me on the lunge line.  Then progressively longer sessions, adding more and more figures and even riding in our outdoor arena (which is a bit deep) for longer sessions to help her get stronger.  It did take my Mom getting on towards the end to ask her for more for me to see that she could do more than I was asking.  The bad part was why the heck didn’t I know or feel that, but the very good part was that I was erring on the side of asking for too little than too much.  Before I left, she was looking like a little baroque horse and was soft and light.  There’s still so much to work on and improve, but I can’t even begin to explain how much confidence getting her that far gave me in myself.  Thank you Cindy.

Riding several horses is also a big part of getting better.  I’m also lucky that Wilt puts up with me and essentially gives me a lesson every time I ride him.  I feel like I can help and improve all the other horses I am able to ride, but Wilt is way beyond anything I could teach him – for now!  (And I’m so lucky my Mom lets me ride her special horse – thank you Mom!)  Basically Wilt is saying “keep up with me, keep up with me!” the entire ride, but it lets me practice things I can’t practice on other horses and Wilt expects you to ride so if you don’t ask for something correctly, you don’t get it.  The best part is, Wilt is brutally honest so you do get what you really asked for….as evidenced by my frequent walk-to-canter attempts that ended in half pass. 

I don’t want to dismiss lessons.  Working with a trainer that is willing to go the distance and follow classical principles is essential as well.  It especially helps you from continually doing the wrong things because you think they’re right or you don’t know that you’re doing them.  Obviously I haven’t discussed the unique needs of different levels of riders.  Most of what I’ve said doesn’t apply to beginners.

For the rest of you, get out there and become better riders.  Ride your horse – often and well.

A lot of people think you train horses with equipment. This is one of the biggest MythUnderstandings out there. Try this bit, try that bit. If those don’t work, try a thinner bit or one with a longer shank. If those don’t work, tie that sucker’s head down or crank him in with draw reins.

Most people believe that you should start a horse with a really quiet bit, so-to-speak. Then the further along in the horse’s training you go, the bigger the bit you should automatically put in his mouth because it takes a bigger bit for him to understand more. People think that there’s a direct relationship between what a horse knows and what kind of bit is in his mouth. What actually happens is that the horse gets used to the bigger and bigger bits. Eventually, you need the bigger bit because the horse is used to the beating he gets with it every day.

You can either treat your horse with respect and use a bit that is only a small part of an entire corridor of aids or you can force the horse to accept its daily workout in a severe bit that is louder than your legs and seat. If you force the horse to accept a bit that shouts, you cut all the other communication lines that you could have developed using your body position and legs.

When you get the horse so worried about how much bit is going to hit him and how often, you take his mind off a total shape. And to ride a horse accurately and to the degree that will make him a winner you need to create a total shape for each stride using:

• an inside leg at the girth,
• an outside leg a little further back,
• your weight shifted onto a specific seat bone,
• an inside rein positioning the head and softening the jaw,
• an outside rein following the horse’s rhythm,
• your seat either maintaining the cadence of the gait or half-halting to collect the horse.

You must use a full corridor of pressures that the horse feels and understands as a specific shape. The horse will never understand or feel this shape if you don’t understand it. The optimum communication between two individuals must exclude violence and punishment and must be based on both individuals’ feelings and opinions. When you choose a bit to communicate with the horse, your first choice should be one that can never speak louder than your seat and legs.

When someone is trying to communicate primarily with a loud bit, the horse’s primary effort will be to escape the bridle. And when a horse escapes the bridle the rider often tries to tie his head in position with some device so that he can’t get away from the pressure or ruin the leverage. When the bit is louder than the rider’s seat and legs the horse will never even feel the seat or legs. He will only feel the squeeze in his mouth. Whenever you see a horse fighting the bit, he has lost all feeling for the rest of the aids. It is just like getting your finger slammed in a car door.

Gadgets such as tie downs, chambons, draw reins and head sets are only substitutes for the correct use of seat, leg, and rein aids as a corridor of pressures that shape the horse. These training gadgets are molds, not aids. They force the horse’s body into an evasion rather than showing him the correct shape. They are “breaking” devices, not training devices. Breaking is telling the horse what NOT TO DO; training is telling what TO DO. Control does not come from forcing the horse to assume a shape with gadgets. True control over a horse’s gymnastic abilities comes from developing the driving muscles to drive and the carrying muscles to carry.

When you drive hard enough from the back, the front comes off the ground. That is call “rebalancing.” You can’t get collection or rebalancing using tricks. So many people think that technology is having a trick for each thing rather than having a methodical, logical, systematic, gymnastic conditioning program. You only need tricks and gadgets if your skill is limited.

A lot of people believe they are demonstrating riding skill when their horse will tolerate severe equipment. When you ride with a full corridor of aids, you will never need a big bit or any gadgets to put the horse’s head in a position. However, a bigger bit can be used effectively in some situations. For example, if the horse has been carried through his training with a rider who has used the full corridor of aids and the horse understands the rider’s body language and positions, the bigger bit can be introduced and used for upper level games so that all the rider has to do is whisper with the reins. But even an advanced horse can be ridden effectively with a snaffle if it is ridden on a full corridor of aids.

Horses are so sensitive that they can feel a fly land on their skin. They can feel and understand a mild bit if the rider knows how to use it. But you can’t train in shouts and show in whispers. When you put a bit in the horse’s mouth that multiplies your pressures you lose your corridor of aids. The bit becomes louder than your seat and legs and you lose all effectiveness. All attention is on those fingers slammed in the car door.

You don’t train horses with equipment. You train them by developing a communication system that uses a full corridor of aids. You introduce each new concept in a horse logical way in the smallest, tiniest bites you can reduce it to. You introduce it so it is just one step away from something else you and the horse already successfully communicate about. Remember that rhythm, relaxation and repetition are the cornerstones of good training.

© 1997-2010 Meredith Manor International Equestrian Centre. All rights reserved.
Instructor and trainer Ron Meredith has refined his “horse logical” methods for communicating with equines over 40 years as a horse professional. He is president of Meredith Manor International Equestrian Centre (147 Saddle Lane, Waverly, WV 26184; 800.679.2603; www.meredithmanor.edu), an ACCET accredited equestrian educational institution.

It’s necessary at some point to take the horse out of the equation.  Pure and simple, if you want your horse to be better, you have to be better.  The horse knows how to be a horse, but you weren’t born knowing how to ride.  I love this quote:

“The horse knows how to be a horse if we will leave him alone…but the riders don’t know how to ride. What we should be doing is creating riders and that takes care of the horse immediately.” ~ Charles de Kunffy

It illustrates so beautifully that there’s no point in looking for answers outside of yourself.  You have to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and take responsibility for your riding.  If your horse isn’t improving or is having problems, it’s you.  (Barring any pain/physical issues going on with the horse.)  Even if you don’t feel like you’re doing anything wrong.  Even if you look in the mirror and you look good.  Even if your instructor massages your ego at every lesson.  If as a team you and your horse are seemingly stuck, guess what?  It’s you!

As classical riders, when things aren’t working, we know that we have to return to the basics.  But what does this mean?  What are the basics?  Obviously you have the training scale, but for some riders it’s difficult to (remember to) put it into practice or really understand why they aren’t able to, for example, keep a steady rhythm.  I like to always come back to the seat, as SO many problems are caused by the rider trying to accomplish something that requires their seat to be more independent than its current state.  It’s easy to forget that all good riding comes from the seat when you’re bopping along feeling like you’re riding pretty darn well.  Meanwhile your horse is mildly annoyed that you’re off balance, gripping, and in general disharmony with the movement.  Sometimes it’s not as plain as day, but it comes through in your inability to improve.

A light bulb should be coming on about now and you should be sprinting for the lunge line.  Yes, you.  As advanced as you are, you need to work at maintaining and improving your seat.  There’s nothing better if you have someone to lunge you.  If your instructor knows anything, he or she should be more than willing to watch you go in endless circles.

I was recently home for 6 weeks in MI, where my Mom and our horses are and where we’re moving back to hopefully by the end of the year.  I was so lucky to be able to ride 2-3 horses a day, 5-6 days a week.  Don’t underestimate the importance of getting on different horses either.  Every chance I got, I got on the end of that lunge line and tried to improve my seat.  Increasing and slowing the gaits.  Transitions with arms out like an airplane.  Transitions with hands on my helmet.  Transitions with arms behind my back.  Vaulting. (Balance is essential to a good seat and it’s FUN!)

And at the end of those 6 weeks, I think I improved.  A little.  It’s daunting to realize how much time and effort you have to put into this sport to get better.  It’s sometimes hard to realize you have to work so hard and wait. But don’t you think it’s worth it?

Zoe is about 10, and from what I’ve heard, has had some really crappy training methods bestowed upon her.  When I first met Zoe, something about her just looked wrong to me and I thought for sure she was much older.  Turns out, her body just looks like that because she is completely backwards and upside down with her muscle development.

So Tuesday night I am lunging her (because she is a bit crazy at night and it was my first time getting on her) and I’m watching her go around and around…and I’m squinting in disbelief over what I’m seeing.  There is a complete disconnect between her front and hind end.  If you look closely it actually looks like two people in a horse costume trying to get it together; her back end literally chases her front end.  Wow.

I had swapped her corkscrew snaffle that her owners ride her in for a mullen mouth, because of course you always ride in the softest bit possible!  I had that and a French link 3-piece and the mullen mouth initially looked like it might be more her size.  Luckily, my dressage saddle fit her.

When you first start lunging her she bucks…but it’s not really a normal buck.  She humps her back like there’s a kink and bounces her back end around and will kick out here and there.  I’ve been told she pretty much always has to get that out so that’s why they lunge her before riding, especially at night.  They think she’s “cold-backed”.  I’ve never really known a horse that was cold-backed so I had no idea what it was supposed to look like – perhaps she’s just trying to figure out where her back end is!

I get on and discover there are no brakes – for me anyways.  Dropping my weight and stopping my seat has no effect.  None.  It’s pretty obvious that down transitions and halts have been achieved by hauling on her mouth because when I squeeze that outside rein she throws herself on the bit in defense.

Tuesday night I did a little trotting, but it was a short session to see what she felt like.  I cannot believe how stiff and inflexible this horse is!  She moves off your leg though, if only a little.  Tuesday night is spent only doing halt-walk-trot-walk-halt stuff.  And it’s horrible.  I spent a lot of time thinking, can I even do this???

Thursday night, I switch the bit for the French link because I didn’t really care for the mullen mouth.  I thought she would like a moving bit that she could play with a little more.  I lunge her again, and she’s not quite as wild.  When I get on, I immediately like the French link bit better – she seems a little lighter.  However, as the ride goes on, she makes a habit of sticking her neck and nose out and twisting her head so her right cheek is pointing at the sky.  And she only does it a few strides after beginning to trot.  I rode through it, thinking it could be the new bit, the fact that she’s never really been ridden with consistent contact, or maybe all the foam from the sugar was ticking her lips (she looked like she stuck her nose in whipped cream – it was really cute).

I decide that I need some brakes before I can even think about cantering.

This is where the rope around her neck comes in, and if you have this problem I highly suggest using this!  In Zoe’s case I had to go one step further and bring in some sugar.

A lot of horses will slow down or stop when they feel pressure on their chests from the rope, and since horses learn by association, when you stop your seat and use the rope, they learn that your seat can tell them to slow/stop as well.  Zoe, being Zoe, didn’t react at all to the rope at first.  On to plan B!

I fill my pocket with sugar cubes.  I stop my seat, use the rope, and then use outside rein until I get a halt.  Then I give her a piece of sugar.  It only took her 2-3 times and then as soon as she felt me touch that rope, BAM, halt.  I even got a few halts just from my seat.  Woohoo, we have brains…if nothing else!

And now we trot, new trick in the bag.  Luckily, the seat and rope lesson transfers through and when I slow my seat and pull the rope gently we get a decent trot to walk transition with no reins required.  Still, out of habit, she gets heavy in my hands…but that will take more time.

Finally, I get to ride her in the morning on Sunday.  I lunge her anyway, and she is half asleep.  I give her a few less sugar cubes in case the excess of foam was bothering her, but she still contorts her head and neck a bit every once in awhile.  It seems to be a bit less and last a shorter period of time though, and she didn’t seem to be in pain…so I continued to ride through it.  Like Ryan, she is definitely stiffer to the left and has a hard time turning in that direction.

We even try a canter in both directions, which is horribly not smooth.  Zoe switches her lead in the back constantly and it seems like she canters on the wrong lead in the back more often than the correct one.  No doubt her back end has severe weaknesses.  I stiffened up a bit too, which didn’t help!

Afterwards, I ran into her owner when putting her away.  Her 11 year old that rides her wants to ride another day and her older sister’s horse is lame so she might Zoe ride 1-2 days a week.  So she tells me that maybe for awhile I will only be able to ride once a week.  *sigh*  It’s too bad because I was just starting to feel like maybe I could make some sort of difference.  But with a horse this messed up, I don’t think I can really help all that much riding once a week.  Oh well!  We shall see what happens…

This week is officially Crazy Thoroughbred Week at Cavalli Connections.  The older sister of the little girl who rides Trixie asked me to ride her OTTB 3-4 times this week while she’s out of town at a college equestrian camp, and another friend has asked me to ride her thoroughbred 3-4 times a week indefinitely.  The first one I have ridden sporadically, when they need someone to ride him and/or when they’re out of town.  The latter I had never ridden…until Tuesday night.

Now, I have unofficially labeled myself as a pony specialist because that’s where I’m most comfortable.  Throw me on anything 13-14.2 and I’m good to go.  But that’s exactly why I need to ride the bigger horses.  To step out of my comfort zone and improve.

In these cases, it’s not just the size!  What really scares me is that these two thoroughbreds have been trained incorrectly non-classically and it’s a little unnerving to me to be on top a 1200 pound animal that doesn’t get what I’m trying to say most of the time.  That’s why it’s not really an issue for me to ride Wilt, even though he’s big.  I feel like my 4 weeks of being home and riding him had really put me in the mode for the bigger movement, but they’ve also really spoiled me…

Enter thoroughbred #1.  Ryan is a 16 year old OTTB that is riddled with aches and pains and is mostly used for hunter jumper for his owner.  When I first met Ryan, I was told horror stories about him taking off, bucking, rearing, etc.  In the “winter” in Arizona he can be really high and there were a few times I rode him over the winter and he would do the whole shoot-out-from-under-me thing which put my heart in my throat.  But he came back and never did anything more than that with me.  As I observed him being ridden more and more, I realized why he is the way he is, and I worry a lot less since I ride very differently.  He’s also as sweet as they come and when my Mom came out to Arizona last year she rode him and said that he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.  We’ve developed a little friendship since I see him all the time when I’m riding Trixie, etc. and I get the feeling he likes me.  I sneak him a massage every once in awhile if I have extra time when I’m done with Trixie.

On Tuesday morning we headed down to the arena for our first ride of the week.  Ryan is really funny in that if you sing/hum to him quietly he puts his head down right next to you and practically falls asleep.  So by the time we walk the quarter mile or so to the arena he is really relaxed.    He had been jumped both Saturday and Sunday so his owner could be extra prepared for her equestrian camp, so I expected him to be a little stiff.  And stiff he was.  I was working a heck of a lot harder than him trying to get him going forward and I felt like there was an anvil at the end of the reins.  I realized how stiff the right side of his body is; he listened to the weight aids (mostly) for turning right but whenever I stepped into my left stirrup to go left he said “nope, too hard”.

Yesterday was a big improvement.  He went forward more easily, tripped less, hung on my hands less, and was a little more right-on with what I asked.  I was able to do more circles, serpentines, etc. without feeling like I had to pull him around.  The thing I was most proud of was that he stretched down a little when I let him take the reins out of my hands.  He had gotten it a little the first day but when I asked on the second day it was like he remembered that it felt good to stretch his back and he gave me more.  That’s huge for him.

It’s nice to be able to ride him 4 days in a row.  (And in July I’ll be riding him while they’re out of town for 2.5 weeks of that month.)  One of the biggest frustrations for me is riding a horse every once in a while.  There’s just not a whole lot you can do to help them when you’re not working with them consistently!

Heading out today for ride #3 this morning on Ryan with high hopes.  Watch for my next entry on thoroughbred #2!

Since the little girl that rides her has been riding more lately, our rides have been less frequent. In fact, besides two trail rides, I hadn’t ridden her in about 3-4 weeks. However, Trixie loves trail rides – she’s one of those horses who is just thrilled to be “out” so it’s an excellent time to work on stuff without her really thinking she’s “working”. Lots of halts, leg yields, a little bending. As long as she can enjoy the view, she is happy-go-lucky.

Another thing I’ve been doing with Trixie is carrying 8-10 sugar cubes in my pocket on our rides. Every once in awhile, at halt, I’ll give her one (leaning forward as I do). The main point here is that it helps her remember to keep mouthing the bit and to relax her jaw. (Long story short, Trixie has had some awful bits in her mouth…so I’m s l o w l y trying to teach her to trust my hands/the contact. When she becomes mine I’ll be able to do a lot more with her…for now, this is what I have to work with.) As you can probably guess, she lives for those sugar moments. It has helped our halts tremendously.

One thing I didn’t plan on happening was that I trained her, completely by accident, to associate me leaning slightly forward and lightening my seat with sugar…and stopping. So we were on the trail to the arena the other day and I was just adjusting myself and stood in my stirrups slighty, leaned forward, and BAM. Stop. “Sugar?”

And several more times. It got to be a bit funny. My first thought was “Uh oh…that’s the exact opposite of what she should do!” BUT…then I realized that it was perfect!! Now Trixie would train ME to stay sitting deep! Aha!

Once I put a positive spin on it, it really helped me as I became much more aware of my position. There were times my shoulders came slightly forward or I lightened my seat, and even at trot Trixie would immediately slow down and think she was stopping. And so I fixed it, got myself back deep in the saddle, kept going. The heightened awareness was just awesome.

Have you trained your horse to train you?

“But I can’t stop him…it’s a safety thing…”

“I need my child/spouse to be safe.”

“But she puts her head down with this bit…”

“My horse listens to this bit!!”

You see? For the first two, don’t ride that horse. For the second two, because it hurts!! Riding and training are all about establishing a partnership with your horse and in a partnership you work together. My Mom likes to use this analogy that she heard from her trainer: “Your horse is your dance partner. If they take a wrong step, do you whisper in their ear or smack them upside the head?” If you want a future dance partner, the latter isn’t an option.

As the human in the partnership, your first responsibility is to protect your horse’s well being. That’s a wonderful sounding ideal, but the fact is that it can cause you to have to make some very tough decisions. For example, if you find yourself in unsafe situations frequently because the horse is taking off, instead of swapping your bit, maybe get some help or swap yourself out for a better rider. If you’ve just spent a fortune on a horse (or currently spend one every month), that can be a very hard thing to do. But it isn’t about you. Would you duct tape a toddler’s mouth shut to avoid a screaming tantrum? No, you would work through the child’s issues and help them modify their behavior with age-appropriate methods.

A harsh bit is not an equine-appropriate solution to any problem. Ever.

Horses are incredibly strong. If they want to do something, no bit is going to stop them. That’s why correct, classical training is safe training as it is not based on a horse’s submission to pain and pressure, but rather the progression of learning and muscle development that is appropriate and in turn fosters willing cooperation. A piece of equipment that fixes something quickly is the exact opposite of “training”. It’s the most wonderful thing when a horse is given the chance to learn painlessly and in his own time. Working with you becomes something he looks forward to rather than fears.

Personally, I think I would be very afraid to ride such a powerful animal if I truly believed that a piece of metal was my method of control. That’s just insane!

If you need a quick fix, if you need perfection from your horse, if you want a certain “look” no matter how it is obtained..you are most certainly in the wrong sport. A book I recently read noted that the late Reiner Klimke was very happy receiving a 6 or a 7 for a movement if that was good for that particular horse…while others pushed their horses too much in pursuit of a perfect 10. It’s not about the score; it’s about the horse.

What comes to mind when you think of a great horse? Is it a fabulous mover, a charismatic personality, good manners, a gentle kindness? All of the above? What is the difference between the horse you can do anything with and the horse that only a few select people can handle because he’s so “difficult”?

I used to think great horses were born, and I now know that they are made. No doubt nature has something to do with it and it’s a great starting point…but I think that the nurture part is far more instrumental to greatness.

If you’ve read my Horses page, you know about Zac. All the horses I talk about on my page are fabulous in different ways, but Zac holds the unofficial title of Greatest Horse Ever in my book. It’s not for his confirmation, his ribbons, or his movement. It’s because we have a fabulous relationship, I can trust him with almost anything, and he seems to almost have a conscience. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s a very happy horse, has excellent manners, and is very intuitive when it comes to reacting to the types of humans he encounters. But Zac wasn’t always this way! He was always a sweetie underneath, but he has changed so much in the past 18 years. When I was 9, the first big interaction I had with Zac was being allowed to brush him while my Mom was riding. I slowly entered his stall and quietly started brushing him…and then I dropped the brush. In a flash, he spooked to the other side of the stall. He was very nervous and very shy. After we had bought him, when I was about 13 or so, Zac and I were doing one of our favorite things: galloping down the quiet dirt road that led away from the barn. It ended in a cul-de-sac, where we slowed down and then walked back to the barn. On this particular occasion I made the not-so-hot decision to gallop back to the barn as well since we were having so much fun. I’m sure you can guess what happened next. I started to attempt to slow down when we neared the barn driveway and Zac said, “yeah right”…and we flew. Swerved around the mailbox, tore down the driveway, and he screeched to a halt right at the point where the electric fence met the barn. We were lucky.

Before we met him and bought him, Zac had two previous owners. For the first five or so years of his life, he was owned by two women and we don’t know too much about them. His second owner was a college girl who didn’t give him a lot of attention, and would just occasionally come out, ride him, then leave. Not surprisingly, he picked up the habit of cribbing out of what we can only assume was sheer boredom. He was very shy and timid.

Fast forward to Zac now. You could set off firecrackers in his stall and he may not even so much as glance in your direction. He has given rides to disabled, young, and hyper children. He has the most excellent manners – you couldn’t even make him kick or bite you. On trail rides, he is the best lead horse, and the horse everyone can run up the back of him if they need to. You can lead him anywhere by holding his mane, no halter required. However, you can still yahoo with him. He just knows that there’s a time and a place for it.

Wilt is a different story entirely. Even though we bought Wilt when he was three, we knew him pretty much since he was born since he was born at the barn we boarded at. My sister and I used to play tag with him when he was a yearling. He was owned by the barn owner, but since he was breeding for “loud” paints and Wilt wasn’t even close, the barn manager scooped him up. Wilt has never been owned by someone who didn’t love him to death and treat him kindly, which is evident in his personality. He has never known anything different and he thinks this is all there is – it’s wonderful.

Trixie is a lot like Zac. She has not been treated well by all the people who have handled her but she is slowly changing her ways. She used to turn her back to you as soon as you entered her stall and she was very hesitant and worried about being touched. She particularly didn’t like men, and I believe after being caught in the wild she was broke by cowboys, and sold quickly for a profit. Being so sensitive, she is easy to affect. Luckily she is also pretty feisty and has spirit that’s hard to break. She has changed so much in the last two years. She is becoming more affectionate, more vocal, and much more willing.

I think everyone would come up with something a little different when asked what qualities they look for in a great horse, but I have put together a no-fail recipe that anyone can apply to create their own version of greatness. It is easiest to apply to horses who don’t have problem pasts, of course. If your horse has developed negative preconceived notions about what to expect from humans, you can have a lot to overcome. But it’s possible!

Recipe For Greatness

1. Unconditional Love And Attention: Horses give us unconditional love and we need to do the same for them. This means we forgive them, we don’t hold grudges, and don’t treat them unkindly, no matter what our mood may be. Bring them treats, pet them, hang out with them, play with them. Don’t let too much time go by without seeing them and don’t just ride and leave. I’ve never understood those riders that show up at the barn, are handed their horse by a groom, they ride and then hand the horse back and leave. Everything about owning or being responsible for a horse is made better by having a good relationship with the horse. Even if you don’t ride a horse, giving them love and attention can really change their circumstances and their outlook.

2. Correct Training: A horse that is trained correctly learns that he won’t be forced to do something he’s not ready to do. He doesn’t fear being overwhelmed with confusion or pain from incorrect training methods. He learns that he is a partner, not a slave. He develops a work ethic and looks forward to being ridden. A correctly trained horse is a happy horse.

3. Discipline Is Not A Four Letter Word: A lot of people hear the word discipline and they immediately think of punishment. In reality, discipline is quite different than punishment. Horses look to you as the leader of your herd of two, and if you fail to let them know where the boundaries are, you’ve got a 1,000 pound problem. For example, when horses are playing they bite and kick playfully. If they try to do that to you, you need to clearly and quickly let them know that it’s not acceptable to play with humans that way. That discipline may be a firm “No”, a firm pop with your hand, or both. The most important part of disciplining is that it happens immediately and it’s brief. If you wait more than a second or two or make it last more than a second or two, the horse has no idea what’s going on. A horse that has never been disciplined is a lot like a spoiled child that gets anything he wants at the first sign of a tantrum. Not pleasant to be around and very dangerous.

4. Physical Needs Are Met: Make sure your horse’s equipment fits, he is getting adequate nutrition, and he isn’t confined to his stall for more hours than he needs to be. When a horse’s basic needs aren’t met, he doesn’t logically know what is wrong and may act out, be worried, or just plain depressed. Your horse depends on you and can’t even think about performing when he doesn’t feel good.

5. Have Patience: Sometimes you are going to need a lot of patience. This goes for everything from riding to trailering to discipline. So much damage is done when we act from anger and frustration. You have to act as if you have all the time in the world, no matter what you’re doing or how much time you actually have. “One moment of patience may ward off great disaster. One moment of impatience may ruin a whole life.” ~ Chinese Proverb

I used to worry about finding another Zac, since he’s not going to be around forever. It’s very hard to think about another horse even being close to as wonderful as he has become. My Mom has said of Wilt, “Where am I ever going to find another horse like that??”…and the truth is it won’t be easy. We are so lucky to have such amazing horses. But no matter what horses we have in the future, I know they will be fabulous…because we will apply the recipe and make them fabulous.