The secret to conquoring show nerves…
First, timing. Schedule your show while your mare is in heat. In a pinch, you can schedule it for when she is just coming out of heat—the important thing is that she be in heat while you are doing your final prep leading up to the show. You should go to bed the night before the show knowing the best you can hope for is to keep all four feet in the arena, although perhaps not on the ground at the same time.
Second, blow your warmup. I recommend bucking during every canter attempt, but anything that leaves you certain spectators will be cringing will do.
You are now ready to show.
It was amazing. I had no show nerves at all going into the ring.
To be fair to Ro here, other than throwing in some bucks at the canter, the warmup went really well. And despite the bucks, the canter in the warmup was much improved from the rides this week—still not straight and connected or anything like that, but at least moving in the right direction.
But somehow it all meant that I went into the ring completely unconcerned. Maybe because I had no illusions or expectations that we had to be perfect, since we were so clearly NOT going to be perfect? Whatever it was, I rode up the centerline confident that this was my horse, and I would be showing my horse, and whatever happened, happened.
The test was an honest reflection of where we are right now. I was underriding her just a touch, but it was so much more consistent and balanced than the tests we rode in April. She did NOT buck at the canter, and the canter was a little more balanced than the warmup canter. We were still not connected at the canter and she broke multiple times going to the right (so yay for my first “2” on a scoresheet, ever—who says judges don’t use the whole scale?!), but honestly—I was just so happy that we rode an honest test and that despite breaking neither one of us had a meltdown. We just picked up the canter again and went on.
I think we ended up with a 53% or so on that test, which was a fair score. The judge had some very nice comments (of course, my scoresheets are in my trailer, so I couldn’t tell you what those comments are right now), particularly one about the canter work just killing us, but that everything would improve as we sorted out the canter.
Incidentally, a huge shout out to schooling show judges. At both the shows I’ve been to this year, the judges have been so encouraging and made comments along the lines of “yes, you’re having this problem, but you’re on the right track, so keep working.” I think that is awesome, and I really appreciate both the honest assessment of our ride right at that moment and the encouragement to keep going forward.
I had about an hour between tests, and when I got back on Ro to warm her up again, I could tell neither one of us had much left in the tank. I decided to keep what we had left for the ring and just trotted her enough to get her moving again, then called it good.
The test was a little more inconsistent than the first test, in that Ro was definitely tapping out and would lose her balance and start rushing at points, especially during transitions. However, it was more active overall. And the canter work was better—I was less worried about bucking this time, so a little more proactive about the canter, and actually ended up tapping with the stick during the last canter a couple times when I felt like she was about to break. (I know there are people who would rather die than use their stick in the ring, but honestly—why carry it at all if you won’t use it? The judge’s comment on the rider score was “very tactful rider,” so clearly the judge was not phased by it.)
We ended up with a 56ish, I think, on this test. Again, an honest score with some nice remarks from the judge.
Overall, I am very happy with the way the day went. The biggest thing for me was the complete lack of show nerves. It was awesome to come out of the ring knowing that I’d ridden an honest test and any issues that showed up were training issues and not a result of my shutting down from nerves.
Ro was fabulous. Really, really fabulous. The canter warmup—no, not cool. I was not happy about that part of the day. But I was happy that she was all business when she went into the ring, and I think that as she gets more fit and we start focusing more on really improving the canter that is going to disappear.
Everything else, though—she handled herself so well and was so focused and responsive. I’m very, very happy with her.
With both of us, really. The only feeling that can top riding down the centerline with confidence is coming out of the ring with confidence, and we did that today.
Listen to the voices in your head
Last night, I went out and saddled up a gnat horse with the attention span of a gnat Ro.
We proceeded to… well, I was on her back, and she was in the arena, and we were going in a direction that was, well, a direction. At one point, she was cantering on four separate tracks and doing her best giraffe imitation. It was impressive. Less try-that-at-home impressive and more what-not-to-do impressive, but still, impressive.
And because I worry when my horse goes around traveling with her body in multiple zip codes, I immediately started trying to figure out the issue. Rider is riding like a monkey with ADD, true, and Rider’s body… let’s not discuss Rider’s body. Horse was mentally looking for every excuse to check out, true, but there didn’t seem to be a physical reason for it. Well, besides the excusable response to poorly-applied aids. But the aids were not THAT poor. Not multiple-zip-codes poor.
It nagged at me all night—Ro doesn’t do stuff like this without a reason, and being distracted is not sufficient reason. The voices in my head kept coming back to something physical. Since I was at the barn this morning, I repalpated her back and lunged her quickly to see how she was moving. She was fine.
Unhappily, I told my doubts to stuff it. Apparently, it was all crappy riding. I was glad she wasn’t in pain—of course I was—but I hate the thought that I was riding that badly.
This evening, I was back at the barn and brought her in clean her up a little—trim her bridlepath and such. Then I turned her back out. To get to her turnout paddock, we have to go through the gelding paddock. This is fine; we’re all used to it.
One of the geldings was hanging around by the gate to the mare paddock, but he retreated a polite distance. I unhooked the gate and started to lead Ro in, but she balked. I looked back to see why—surely, standing still for two whole seconds hadn’t turned her feet to lead?
She took advantage of those two seconds to spread her legs and proposition the gelding. Who looked very confused.
I tossed her in the mare paddock and even though her new BFF had come down to the gate, Ro was miserable. Girl just can’t get a break—no one ever lets her have a good time.
So—coming into raging heat last night. This explains a lot.
But she got today off from riding (planned in advance, the timing was just good) and hopefully in the next couple days she’ll stop thinking with her ovaries and we can go back to our regularly scheduled program. I think this was still an improvement over her spring transitional heats, but clearly she and I need to sit down and sort out our schedules so that only one of us is having an off day at a time.
And my instinct was right after all. There was a physical issue.** I should trust myself more.
** Ro would like everyone to know that there wouldn’t be a physical issue if the two legged creatures would stop interfering and just let her get on with finding a suitable mate, TYVM.
What’s in a pedigree?
I toy off and on with breeding Ro and for a long time had been resigned to the fact that any foals could hope, at best for a COP from the stallion’s warmblood registry. However, recently I found out that ISR/Oldenburg will allow mares with 75% blood (TB or Arab) into the Main Mare Book. And this caught my attention, because Ro is 50% Arab and has a fair bit of TB behind the QH/Paint.
The million dollar question was how much TB?
I’ve done rough estimates before and ended up around 16-18%. I decided to do a little more thorough research, and this time ended up around 21%. I doubt I could find another 4% in there—I was going pretty far back into the pedigree already.
However, going pretty far back into the pedigree brings up some interesting TB bloodlines.
For example, the direct sire line goes back to Chimney Sweep, whose direct sire line continues back to Whalebone/Waxy/Pot8os/Eclipse—and so back to the Darley Arabian. Also thanks to Eclipse: Regulus and the Goldolphin Arabian. Also through Waxy: Cade (by the Goldolphin Arabian out of Roxana). Also through Pot8os, Oroonoko and so back to the Byerley Turk.
From Whalebone’s dam line, Matchem (by Cade). And Highflyer/Herod, thus Flying Childers. Also Snap (so Flying Childers again and also Bay Bolton).
Other TBs via Chimney Sweep, in one way or another: Woodpecker, Australian/West Australian/Melbourne. Lexington/Boston/Timoleon/Sir Archy. Galopin (The Flying Dutchman, Bay Middleton, Blacklock). Voltigeur. Hanover (Hindoo, Glencoe, Birdcatcher). King Tom (Pochahontas).
She also has Three Bars in her, who traces back to a lot of the names already mentioned and also Don John, Faugh-a-Ballagh, Stockwell, St Simon, Rataplan, Isonomy, Bend Or, and Sir Peter Teazle.
I’m not being very systematic here—this is just skimming through the bloodlines of the two most obvious TBs and picking out names I recognize and that are ringing bells as being influential in some way.
Obviously I’m more familiar with sires than dams.
I think that once you get back to the 17/1800s, the pedigrees tend to become pretty standard, with the same names showing up all the time. Still—those are some impressive names.
And it amuses me no end that Pot8os is in her pedigree as much as he is. I love that horse. Actually, I just love his name. Always have.
Pot00000000!
Those moments when you feel like you can ride
When I went out to the barn last night, it was spitting rain—you know, that sort of rain that can’t decide if it actually wants to be a sustained rain or taper off into a drizzle, so it just spits on all your plans either way.
Since there was no lightening, I tacked Ro up and we rode anyway.
You can guess how happy she was about that.
Coming out of the barn, she spooked at some steps she has walked past dozens of times, doing the snorty ‘Make one move, buster, and I’ll kick your head in” thing.
You go, girl, Make those wooden stairs shake right down to their cold, concrete foundation hearts!
After a discussion about standing at the mounting block (yes, we can), I started off with our normal walk warmup. Usually, even when she comes out bouncing off the walls, she settles after ten minutes of walking or so. And I use those ten minutes to shake off work and adjust mentally to riding. Also physically, as I shift from slouching slob to less slouching hunter rider to, eventually, something approximating a dressage rider. Or so I like to tell myself.
Ro never did settle at the walk, so I decided to just go to work and settle her through work.
And work.
And work.
About the time she came to the party, someone shut a car door and she thought about spooking.
So more work.
And work.
She came to the party again, so I figured we would finish up with some canter work now that she was doing less Pepe Le Pew trot and more… wait, is that really the only cartoon character I can think of? A skunk? What a sad state of affairs for me. Anyway, she was moving more like a real horse and had let go of a lot of tension and was staying fairly straight most of the time. If we wait until everything is absolutely perfect to canter, we’ll never canter. But cantering from a Pepe Le Pew trot gets me a pogo stick canter. And while pogo sticks are fun and all, they aren’t that fun.
Anyway. So there we were, trotting a circle while I debated how to ask her for the canter. Our transitions suck, so we need a plan.
Finally, I settled on leg yielding in to the quarter line, canter, 15 meter circle.
I thought I ought to test the leg yield first, and for that I like an exercise introduced to me earlier this year—if you are going left, for example, leg yield from the corner to X, circle right 10 meters, ending back at X, circle left ten meters, ending back at X, then leg yield back to the rail. Basically, you’re just adding a figure eight to a standard leg yield in to X/back to the rail exercise, but it tells you a lot about your horse’s straightness and whether they are really on your aids (if they aren’t, the circles are uggggly—ask me how I know).
Ro started blowing through the bend in the circles, as she does, so I decided to forget the canter and focus on fixing that. She’s so out of shape right now that I knew we couldn’t do both.
After a couple run throughs we were seeing some improvement—at least she wasn’t free-wheeling around the circles like a skateboarder on crack.
Then the right leg yield/circle were ok, but not great, the left circle was almost there, and the left leg yield—spot on. Straight, even, and powerful. One of our best leg yields, ever.
So we did it again, with the same result.
I hopped off immediately and called it a day. She gave me a look to see if this was for real or if I was hopping back on (I do, sometimes), then rubbed her muddy green foamy mouth all over my shoulder.
Note to self: no more molasses-based treats while tacking up.
But other than that, a good end to the ride.
Photo Updates
All is well in Ro’s world—she’s settled in to the new barn, where she’s actually on 24/7 turnout and loving it. We’re getting back into a work routine and things are going well.
The couple pictures I took of her at the new barn made her look like a mutant, so here’s one from the show we went to this spring:
You should see the close-up of my face: I look like I’m headed to face a firing squad or something. Ah, show nerves. They are awesome.
But Ro is cute enough for both of us.
And here is Dexter, after getting a bath today:
Normally he has his head shoved in the round bale, but he was busy checking to see if any of the other horses had left grain by their buckets (fat chance, but he’s an optimist). By the time I left the barn, he was back to inhaling hay like there is no tomorrow.