February 25, 2007: UP TO DATE!

I just migrated this blog from my iWeb-managed site http://web.mac.com/gmwalkersd/iWeb/RidingHorsesLife/Welcome.html because it was getting too unwieldy to publish the site there every time I wanted to make changes--the software insisted on re-creating ALL of the individual blog pages, and just couldn't leave well enough alone with the archived pages. Whew! What a task. This will be much easier, though, now that the job is done.

One of the benefits of having gone to the trouble, though, is that it forced me to at least skim through my old posts... and to realize how far Quila and I have come. There are times, when I look at how far there is yet to go, that I feel like I've been spinning my wheels and that we haven't accomplished anything at all, especially since we're starting the year out showing First Level. Again. But that isn't true at all.

I rode through First Level Test 4 with Quila at home today. It was the first time we've ridden a test since September. And while our ride was not perfect (she could have been a bit rounder in the frame, and her leg yield to the right could have been a bit more prompt), I was still VERY pleased. Why? Because we went MY pace for the entire ride, and she was listening to me. Not once did she start to think, jump ahead, anticipate or second guess. She stayed on the aids, waited, and agreed that I could be the boss. Now, I know that was NOT because she's forgotten the test. I saw her ears flicker when I didn't do a stretch circle between the trot and the walk, I felt the surge of energy, ready for my command... but she waited, ready, UNTIL I asked for what I wanted. That has NEVER happened before. Not once. Ever. At home or at a show. We've had shows where she has been relaxed, quiet and well-behaved, but she's always had those wheels spinning--they were just spinning at a speed that was somewhere close to the one I wanted.

I think a large reason for this is that I've finally LEARNED and TRULY UNDERSTAND what it means to ride her. I know how to demand that she pay attention if she tries to work off her own agenda, so I no longer have the sense that things could spiral out of control. There will be no more prayers as we go down center line of "Please, God, let me ride the same horse I had in the warm-up." Other prayers, perhaps... because prayer isn't a bad thing, but I can at least dispense with the need to say that particular prayer of desperation. In fact, I've come to enjoy the extra energy that I use to despise, because I know how to channel it into improved, more expressive performance.

A few weeks ago, Quila was reacting to a pocket of spectators watching one of our boarders try saddles. The extra saddles perched on the rail, combined with the railbirds had her upset (though I can't exactly say why), and she was all huffed up and blowing steam out her ears. I had one of the best rides of the week, once I got her through--and getting her through took no longer than it normally would. And I was able to ride her from my seat and legs, without using an inordinate amount of hand. BIG change in my skill set. BIGGER change in our partnership and performance.

This will, I think, be an entirely different year. And we're signed up to show Second Level on March 17. BIG GRIN.