There is this nagging thought in the back of my mind that I have become a really lazy rider.
I come from the huntseat world originally, and I remember my legs literally shaking after my lessons as a kid when I would lay in my bed at night, trying to sleep.
My training sessions back then were all about training me. They were about strengthening my core, my legs, and my balance. My instructors would have us trot and post around without stirrups for ten minutes straight. We walked, trotted and cantered without them. I remember how my legs felt like they were on fire. Sometimes we trotted for 40 minutes without a break. And they were incredibly useful lessons.
And I paid dearly for what I learned with the pain in my muscles every time I went home.
I even resorted to rubbing liniment on my legs at one point.
But the rewards were great.
A lot of the horses I rode back then were difficult to ride. For the most part I liked the challenge after I had been in lessons long enough to feel confident about my abilities in the saddle. They were school horses, nearly all of them Arabians, since the barn owner had a fondness for them, and they all had their sticky spots and quirks. I was best with the high strung, flighty, over-sensitive types. But I learned the most from the slow, lacking-forward-movement types, since they were not so in sync with my personality and my instincts.
I remember back when I was a kid on lesson day, shaking with nervousness on the drive out to the barn. I chatted nervously at my mom, or stared out the car window trying not to think about what might happen to me today. I remember the butterflies in my stomach and the sweat on my palms every time I went to saddle my lesson horse.
Back then it seemed like I fell off nearly every ride.
If you've ridden Arabians, you know how quickly they can go from one spot to another.
Many of us call it "the Arabian teleport".
And unless you're really good at reading the signs before they're technically ready to bolt, you're either in for a crazy ride or about the hit the dirt.
I only rode twice a month back then, since riding lessons were expensive.
I expected to fall off every time.
But eventually, all of those exercises started to pay off. I could sit spooks, stay with a wild canter, calm a touchy horse and motivate a slow one.
At some point I stopped being so afraid.
It was because the lessons gave me the confidence to understand I was in control of the ride. I wasn't just at the mercy of my horse. I couldn't anticipate everything that would happen, but I could learn how to react and how to communicate what I wanted clearly.
And I started to think about how amazing it would be if someday I had a horse I wasn't afraid to get on and ride.
So that brings me back to my original point.
Has my training plan for Chev made me an essentially lazy rider?
One of my major goals for her was to stay in whatever gait I asked until I asked her to stop.
This sounds simple, but anyone who has ridden a horse knows it's a lofty goal. Horses are not like cars. They do not just naturally stay at 30 if you keep your foot on the gas.
In fact, in most every way they are exactly the opposite of a car.
Most horses require a lot of effort to get up into a canter, and then look for the first opportunity to either speed way up, drop out of it into the dreaded death trot, or shoulder-drop right back into the middle of the arena.
I wanted Chev to take the canter cue and keep chugging along with nothing more than very light contact along my calves. I wanted the feeling of being there, but only as a passive force. I wanted the reins to hang loose, and for her to want to stay that speed. I wanted her to hunt for my cue to stop, because that would be my invitation to her for a break to air up.
Basically, I wanted my horse, who I had the opportunity to train from the ground up, to be a pleasure to ride.
I wanted her to be simple and uncomplicated. I wanted her to be happy in her work. I wanted her to be soft, supple, willing, and forward no matter what stage of collection we were in. Essentially, I wanted my horse to do everything off the slightest cue.
I think since teaching her this, with largely good results, although we still have a lot to learn--I have completely lost the muscles in my legs.
So: am I expecting her to do all the work because I'm a really lazy rider?
I don't know.
I do know that after many years of riding school horses, I loathe the feeling of having to hold a horse up by the reins. So my horse rides on a loose rein and has nothing to brace against up front.
That doesn't mean she did this from the beginning. Oh, no. She is pretty heavy up front due to conformation and personal attitude, so there were a lot of exercises in the beginning about giving in to the pressure of the reins by lifting the base of her neck and relaxing her topline out and down. There were lots of shoulder-ins, lots of shoulder control exercises to lighten her front end. She still needs reminders now and then. But for the most part, she gets it, and I think on an average day I could ride most of the time with the reins between my index finger and my thumb.
I also loathe the feeling of the horse that requires a constant iron leg to keep up a gait. So my horse gets her cue and light support, and chugs along until I ask her to stop.
And I loathe the feeling of the horse who balks at every cue, or simply ignores the aids. So I have tried to make my cues to Chev clear, concise and 1-2-3 you're out, with (hopefully) minimal nit-picking.
I know most of the time I'm riding I don't break a sweat. I do still engage in quite a bit of "long trotting" (regular trotting for you English folks out there) for muscle strengthening (for both of us). And just to make sure she still remembers how to trot under saddle. I know I don't push either one of us as hard as a trainer would.
Most of the time Chev would love to just jog along. She was born to jog. She could stay at a slow, cadenced jog on a draped rein all day.
I also know I should be working on a lot more lateral exercises. I hate lateral work. So I know I'm just being lazy about that.
I wish I could afford lessons and knew of a good trainer around here, because I think lessons are so important to keep people like me on track and not just loping big circles and having a blast. I always wanted a horse I could just gear into the lope, enjoy the rolling feel of the three-beat gait, relax and smile without worrying about sudden teleportation, stopping, or careening into a white-knuckled gallop.
Is it so wrong to expect your horse to stay in a canter with little work on your part? I hope not, because I'm really enjoying it.
She has learned to lift at the base of her neck naturally.
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