I am psyched! This morning is my private lesson, and I get to practice jumping. I made a point to check the weather forecast on Sunday to identify the best weather day so I could train in the outdoor ring since that’s where the fences are.

I love riding outside as I get to practice jumping courses!

The forecast noted that today, actually this morning, was the pick of the week. It is supposed to rain this afternoon and then the temperature will drop, starting tomorrow, and continue downward for the remainder of the week. Oh, the joys of New England.

I generally avoid scheduling lessons on Tuesdays because GEF has its staff meetings at 10 and I don’t like to be late (and I don’t like to rush the time after my lesson either). However, I made an exception because, with all of the rain we have been getting over the past SEVERAL MONTHS, I haven’t had the opportunity to jump as much as I would like. To that end, I decided to plan ahead based upon the forecast (a novel concept which I plan to do weekly from now on) so that it would ensure my jumping in my lesson. Phew, so there you have it.

Back to the blog topic at hand…

My trainer has me do some flat work to start warming up me and Jaliska. During her canter, he notices her switching her lead behind. He says it’s because I’m not supporting her head enough. I need to keep her head up at all times. So I try this and it seems to work. He also wants me to SLOW DOWN. I have a tendency to go TOO FAST. So I slow down to what I feel is a snail’s pace but it makes him happy, so we stay at this gait for a few laps.

Once Jaliska and I have sufficiently warmed up, he sets up a trot pole in front of the plank. J and I trot to it, jump the plank and then canter four strides to the green box. I am not in good form.

We work on my sitting up after the first jump and relaxing to the second jump. It seems that when I sit up I move my body forward causing Jaliska to speed up and canter to the second jump in three strides instead of four. I work on being relaxed. I also work on keeping my hands on her neck and heels down and out per my last lesson with Catherine.

Since we have added an extra jump, it no longer makes sense for me to keep my hands on her neck for two strides after the jump, like I did with just one jump (in my previous lesson). So much for consistency. What works for one may not for two and so the story goes. I’m learning…

My trainer adds a diagonal jump set to the course. Tracking left, I trot around the corner to the plank, canter four strides to the green box, then I round the corner and transition to a trot. I continue at trot to the crossrail then canter three strides to the red box, canter to the corner and REPEAT.

It takes me several iterations to finally relax in between the jumps and then it all goes pretty well. If only I could do that from the get go…. Practice, practice, practice!!

Take away for the day: Take responsibility for your mistakes, never blame your horse.

For example, if you get distracted by, say someone walking up to the fence as you are headed for the jump, then say: “I got distracted by…” not “J got distracted by…”

I was once told that you can insult a trainer’s wife but not their horse. You get the point.

Catherine is my instructor today (this picture is from this past summer)

Today I have a group lesson with Catherine, another full time instructor at the barn, and I’m looking forward to a lesson from a new perspective.

Catherine begins by honing in on my equitation. She explains that I have been using my knee for gripping. Instead, I should create some space between my knee and the saddle and grip more with my heel, with my toe pointed out slightly. When I do this, it causes my heel to go down (yay!) and brings my leg to the correct position, directly under my seat versus more forward, where it tends to slide when I grip with my knee.

She also explains that the outer part of my stirrup should be angled in against the outside of my foot to secure it for optimal support when jumping. I adjust my foot in the stirrup as suggested.

We then move on to my hands. I typically hold them directly above my lap. She explains that they need to be positioned much higher on my horse’s neck at all times. This “higher” hand position provides more control for me and more support for my horse. The reins should be taunt, creating a direct line between them and Jaliska’s mouth.

Catherine further notes that I sit upright which is more of the European style of “jumper” riding, but in the US riders are angled slightly forward from the hip. To correct this, she instructs me to move into my half seat or jumping position when posting, on the rise.
I practice all of these things to the best of my ability in trot and then canter.

We notice that Jaliska is still switching her hind legs in canter. Catherine explains that things like this are common after an extended illness (Jaliska contracted lime a month ago). She tells me to just “roll through it” and not to pay too much attention to it. I try to do this, though it is definitely distracting.

We work on some jumps. Catherine sets up a cross rail and then a second and third, all in a row. The jumping goes pretty well for the most part, except that Jaliska keeps cutting her corner after the third jump. I am instructed to stop her at the end a few times. When J and I are aligned straighter (versus cutting the corner), she lands on the correct lead (bonus!).

I have a lot to work on in to improve my equitation. I know, though, that it will serve me well in the long run, for my horse and for my success in the show ring.

Jaliska is always happy to see me

I’m awake prior to the alarm going off at 4 am.

I pour a cup of coffee and head into my home office. After sending out a few emails and polishing off a bowl of cereal, I am off to paradise.

I see my horse, her head is poking out of the window of her stall.

“Jaliska, good morning girl.” She whinnies. “I have an apple for you, here you go.” She takes it in one bite.

I open the stable doors. It is a beautiful morning, like spring, nearly 50 degrees. The sunrise is truly spectacular. It’s the color of a tropical drink, orange and red all swirled together. Just beautiful.

Jaliska enjoys her morning of hay

I grab a couple flakes of hay to provide some energy for my girl and plug in my ipod. I start singing “Cowboy Take Me Away” from the Dixie Chicks to her as I pick her hooves. I swear she is bobbing to the music.

Jaliska suddenly spins around to look out the window. She hears what I can’t with my ipod plugged in. I see someone walking by, unusual for this hour. “Hello,” I say. “Sorry, did my singing bother you?” He shakes his head, no, while laughing.

“Who are you,” I ask, not recognizing him as a boarder or stable hand. He tells me he is Rob from the hunt, I’m here to lay down scent for the dogs. “Oh, have a great day, Rob from the hunt,” I say.

I remove all of the poles from the jumps
and place them on the ground.

J has already turned around, intent on finishing her early morning ration. I leave her to it and head to the outdoor ring. I remove all the poles from their spot on the jump and put them on the ground. “No jumping without professional supervision.” Barn Rule # 1. This was made very clear to me not so long ago in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS. We will leave it at that.

“The jumping is the easy part,” my trainer always says. Best for me to work on the hard part then. That would be getting to the the jump at the right distance, cantering the right number of strides in between and perfecting my gait while jumping the course, etc., etc., etc. This is what I will work on today (and for the rest of my life!).

Jaliska contracted lime recently so after ten days of antibiotics, and my slowly building up her endurance, I am finally able to allow her to canter some poles. My girl is on fire today! She’s like a finely tuned machine as she maneuvers the course. I line her up so that she is dead on center at every pole. She has missed jumping just as much as me (if you call jumping ground poles jumping).

Jaliska is perfection.

My ride is a dream.

Life is a dream, at the farm.

It is the day before Thanksgiving and I have a private lesson at two o’clock. It is a half-day at work so I had told my employees they could work from home if they wanted, needless to say only one other person besides me showed up at the office – Jim. Jim and I jammed and then I headed home as it was also a half-day at school, and I wanted to there for my kids. I had given the sitter the rest of the week off.

My trainer, Cormac Kennedy, sets up a series of poles and jumps during my private lesson.

Being a chilly, rainy day, we ride in the indoor. My trainer has me work on getting J in a good rhythm to extend her trot, i.e. lengthen her stride without going faster. I work on that and it goes pretty well. He also says to feel her soften in my hands (is it me or is this really another language, I mean seriously who else is going to know what soften in her hands means?!). I try to feel her soften, and she does.

I keep working on getting J to bend in the back left corner, but she keeps cutting it. I have been setting her up early, to no avail. I get her to bend in all of the other corners. So I point out this frustration to my trainer. He instructs me to “set her up early by using my left leg and lifting my left hand and to get her paying attention prior to hitting the corner.” Somehow, under my trainer’s eye and instruction, I’m able to do it perfectly. I seriously think she is showing off for him – they are, after all, both Irish…hmmm.

My trainer sets up a trot pole and small jump. I trot to it and jump it several times. I get her pretty dead on center nearly every time. He points out a series of events though: I have been lifting up my hands when going over the jump. This causes J to lift up her head, causing me to sit hard on her backside after the jump. This then makes her landing off kilter. He noted that my position was pretty good right up until the jump but one small change, such as lifting my hands, caused her to land rough (how would you feel with someone slamming down on your backside just as you were completing a jump?).

My German trainer’s niece jumps an Oxer
during the Young Riders Competition,
she placed third in the country

To correct the problem I was instructed to hold onto her mane and keep my hands there for at least two strides after the jump. This seemed to work out really well, and although my trainer is yelling me, it is in a good way (I had to ask as I was unsure). So all is well that ends well.

Next, my trainer sets up an Oxer (two jumps set up back-to-back with some space in between them), and instead of one jump where she took off at the trot pole and catapulted over it (where I proceeded to land on her neck but stayed on, I have good “stickiness,” he said) we did really well. It seems all the riding I did as a child paid off.

I really try to focus on my breathing. I take a deep breath several times prior to the jump, and then again right before it, and once more after. I breathe, sit up straight with my shoulders down, leg on and heels down. Once I get to the jump I lean forward slightly and carry this position over the jump with my hands on her neck. I still forget to look between her ears but will try hard to do so next time.

I glance at the jump a few strides prior to it to gauge the right take off spot. I keep a firm grip with my lower leg to frame her to keep her impulsion coming from behind.

At the end of the lesson my instructor says “when you come in with a good attitude, keep your mouth shut, listen and do what I say, then it all goes pretty well.” OK – not quite sure how to respond to that, I just nod my head. This seems to make him happy. I decide that if he’s happy, then I’m happy. Note to all readers: it has taken me a very, very long time to realize that it is good to make (and keep) your trainer happy, for if they are happy then you are happy.

Thought for the day: Stickiness is a good thing.