back at it

My 2017 of goal of ride more write more rapidly turned into ride-hardly-ever-write-less.  I definitely got bitten by the saddle fit fear bug for a minute there, worried that putting any saddle that didn’t fit perfectly on Murray’s back would result in severe and permanent physical and psychological damage.  It took me about a week of shopping around for saddles and waiting for the fitter to squeeze me into her very busy schedule for me to decide that fuck it, I could borrow something that fit well enough and/or Murray would be just fine for a few more rides.

So I rode.

jumps01
oh yeah, we actually like to do this…

I had a jump lesson on Tuesday with a friend, and it was definitely the right choice.  One of the barn staff was moving the tractor around trying to clear and dispose of trees that had fallen down during the storms a few weeks ago, and the running tractor and cracking tree limbs and absolute MONSTER that was created when the backhoe picked up tree limbs was just FAR TOO MUCH for both pony brains.  Murray couldn’t go into any corner without violently flinging himself in the other direction (walk, trot, and canter!), and our lessonmate wasn’t faring much better.  Fortunately for us, the backhoe hit a snag about five minutes in to our ride so we all got to settle down.

Murray, of course, was still offended by all the corners.  This made life difficult as we were working on a grid up one of the long sides.  I couldn’t even trot with correct bend around the corner, all I could do was counter-bend Murray and hope that he wouldn’t fling himself too far to the inside.  Every time we would turn to face the grid, Murray would throw all of his pent-up rage regarding the Scary Corner into galloping toward the fences, so we ended up with some… creative use of the poles.

sillypolesyou know it’s bad when even the other horses are laughing at you

I was walking the tightrope of “too much brakes” when I so much as touched Murray’s face with my hands and “no control” if I did nothing.  I guess I could have added leg and really pushed him into my hands, but of course that option didn’t occur to me.  It never does.  (Add leg? Who adds leg. Absurd. That’s totally not always the answer.)  So I just tried to keep the half halts coming with my seat and core, and let the whatever happen.

We built up the bounce and Murray made it happen with some fancy footwork and only a few super awkward moments.  The corners continued to be a bit of a problem — going to or from them — but Murray settled into a pretty consistent and even canter.  Weirdly we struggled to make the strides in odd ways.  Coming down the line straight we would get five, but had no problem getting four on the bending line.  B changed the bounce to a square oxer and vertical one stride apart and Murray never once tried to add in the one stride, but couldn’t help but chip in to the square.  I probably could have put my leg on for a better ride, but I was a little hesitant to ask for more since Murray had already settled into rationality.  I didn’t want to break him, after all.

awks
best form for bounces

I also put in a dressage ride in a borrowed saddle on Thursday, which actually turned out to be very productive.  Nothing groundbreaking, just setting clear expectations and working on the exercises that my many coaches have given me.  But after setting some very clear guidelines (no, you cannot get sticky by the gate and refuse to turn for no reason) and not backing down when Murray offered his standard protest (buck + leap), we put in some good work.

Of course, now I’m so sore I can barely walk, but that’s what I get for not riding for close to two weeks.

nag less, expect more

I had a dressage lesson with our fantastatrainer Tina on Wednesday, and it was aaaaaah-mazing!  I mentioned last week that we are right in the place where I need a lesson to start to get the next set of tools, and I can always count on Tina to help us problem solve.  (Alas, no relevant media exist.  Maybe next week I will get some new video.)

Murray started out feeling pretty honest, though I promptly forgot everything I’ve learned in the last year about keeping my reins an appropriate length, which was unfortunate.  I told Tina that I had been working on being straight and forward and encouraging Murray to take on bigger and more expressive (and correct) gaits, but also keeping him balanced.  Tina honed in on one of my bad habits immediately, nagging Murray with my seat and legs at the walk.  I recently decided to stop babying Murray about walking — he will never get better at walking with contact if we never do it, right? This was a fight several days in a row until the Tina lesson, and Murray had just started to accept going forward+connection.  So of course I was nagging him every single step to get more forward.  Tina had me give him a kick and then sit quietly when he responded correctly.

img_20161129_191637chubby dressage pony

The problem with this (for me) is that I feel like the response to a kick is an inverted spazzy revolt.  But after a few yucky, sticky, gross responses, Murray figured out that kick = forward.  This was the first lesson in the lesson — reward for the right response. Even if it isn’t the exact response I want at this moment, we want to keep Murray thinking in the right direction.  We can finess later (I hope!!).

We moved on to the trot work and Tina encouraged me to get Murray working a little more over his back by getting his neck a little lower.  I have been trying to avoid letting Murray get his neck tooooo low lately, because he can get really on the forehand and downhill.  But his balance actually felt pretty good during the lesson, and it unlocked a bigger and freer trot.  Tina had me encourage the bigger trot on the diagonals, so that Murray can learn the cue for more/forward/bigger where there is more space (than a circle) and then bring it to other work.  She encouraged me to really get him to fly on the diagonals.

Tracking left we got a couple of good extensions on the diagonal (for him – obviously not real extended work), but tracking right I got almost nothing.  Tina told me to really boot him on that right-ways diagonal, and Murray responded by breaking into the canter – but not, as I later found out, an acceptable canter.  The next time around he did the same thing, so Tina had me kick him into a more forward canter.  Murray bucked twice and suddenly on the next right diagonal, he could move forward!

dress-4moar! bigger!

Tina’s assessment was thus: Murray doesn’t want to trot the big trot. The big trot is hard. The small canter is easier – and it’s more forward! But it isn’t really thinking forward  – it’s thinking just forward enough to not actually have to do real work.

All of the following diagonals got bigger and better trots, and Murray was really willing and compliant.  Tina continued to encourage me to get Murray lower, and every time we did his trot got better and involved more of his body.  We were both breathing quite hard after this.

Next, Tina had me add a little engagement in the trot by starting in a shoulder-in and then shooting across the diagonal from that.  I actually didn’t expect this to work, because Murray loves to use lateral work as a way to waste energy.  Maybe the diagonals earlier in the lesson helped us, because once I got him straightened out he shot right across the diagonal with more hind end engagement.  We only did this twice each way, Murray got it and it worked so well.

In the canter we did similar work.  We started with some shoulder in down the long side – making sure not to drift off the rail tracking right – and an extension down the next long side.  Tina helped me with another thing I have struggled with lately, which is Murray getting tense and inverted when I push him to be straight down the long side.  He’s not quiiiite ready to be really straight cantering just yet, but if I got him to lower his head more he could take MUCH bigger and loftier steps.  Tracking right I got a few more steps of the floating canter, which was awesome.  Left was a bit harder, since we were both so tired.  We ended both of our extended canter stints with a little circle — almost 10 meters — where Tina told me to think about pausing in the upswing of the canter (like Megan did!) to get Murray to sit and hold himself up a little more.  It felt great, almost like the canter-in-place that my MIL had me doing the other day (a coming post).

dress-8moar and better canter than this one!

As I expected, it was an excellent lesson.  Tina gave us a few more exercises to practice and Murray stood up to the pressure really well.  Tina agreed with my assessment that Murray is mentally ready to take a little more pressure now, so I need to take advantage of this time to impress some important lessons upon his moldable mind.  And I got a solid plan to move forward with – keep encouraging Murray to move forward, but don’t let him get away with not using his body properly.

I was a little worried that my lack of strength and balance was holding us back in the bigger gaits, but Tina said I shouldn’t fret too much.  I wasn’t unbalanced in the extensions we did in the lesson, and only got unseated when Murray went from cross cantering into a really fast, tense trot.  There is, apparently, time for us to grow in strength in the bigger gaits together.

nap 01hey, remember when it was sunny?! yeah me neither.

fake less, expect more

Despite my efforts to appear otherwise, Murray and I have totally been in a riding slump.  I’m not totally out of my not-really-riding mode, and with the batshit schedule I’ve been juggling lately, the quickly rising darkness, and Murray’s level 10 filth at all times thanks to advanced fluff it’s been easy to default to not riding.  So we’ve not made exceptional progress in the fitness or muscle building department (though the fluff is certainly making Murray look more muscular).

The other day I had the pleasure of Megan coming up to visit and, while she was watching me ride, she made a very interesting comment.  Paraphrased: while Murray has made progress in accepting and moving into the contact, he still isn’t totally there and has just found a new place to “fake it” and set his head.  But when he actually moves up (or down) in to the contact he moves better and more correctly, and actually uses his body.

dress-4Ah yes.

I have known for a long time ever that Murray is not comfortable with contact or (honestly) submission, and that our dressage relationship was a tenuous compromise.  For a million reasons — he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t wanna, he doesn’t think he should have to, it’s a little uncomfortable, it’s a lot uncomfortable, dressage is stupid, etc. — Murray is naturally tense.  But that tension isn’t going to work for us if we want to do real derpssage, so we have to get past it.

So one more thing I need to do to get Murray working more correctly is to convince him to not just accept the contact but to lean in to it.  When he is practically “leaning” on my hands is when he is using himself the best, so that is the place I need to get him to.  Easier said than done, sometimes.

If Murray’s in an incredibly compliant mood, like he was at the JM clinic, then I can put a fair bit of pressure on him and get some really good results.  He’ll connect to both reins (helped by the counter flexing that JM had me using in that exercise), understand the half halts, and push from behind for not insignificant periods of time.  If he’s feeling a little sassier, he might give me the old middle finger in that special kind of way he does.

kickslowOn Sunday he gave me forty seven flavors of tiny, shitty trot before connecting to either rein or moving out into anything resembling a working trot.  I worked at keeping my body really correct after reading a piece about laterality and handedness, and predominantly worked Murray’s stiff side (with lots of walk breaks).  Murray did not appreciate my positional overcorrection and avoided the connection to the right.  Once we switched to the left though he was in full denial, throwing his body all kinds of sideways to avoid the connection.  At one point his trot was so tiny and stilted I didn’t even know why I was bothering to post.

Eventually he worked out of it, and I got some good connection in both directions.  It took nearly 40 minutes, and I was filled with equal parts despair and joy.  On the one hand, goodie for me, building the connection.  On the other, how will I ever warm up for a dressage test if it takes us an unknowable number of minutes between 10 and 40 to get to a functional working connection?!

wp-1449989989647.jpgThis ridiculousness is truly infuriating, because I know that the good trot is in there and it probably takes less effort than crazy sideways garbage.  But (for once) I did not lose my temper, and that helped me come to another realization: when Murray is tense, bullying him “out of it” is not going to mad productive, long term changes.

(wait for it)

Duh.

So even though this is annoying, it’s actually given me a much more concrete goal and rejuvenated my dressage feelz!  Now I have a new thing to focus on in both the short and the long term!  Every ride I need to get Murray moving in to that contact, while staying straight, and then pushing his trot out.  I can’t let him trick me into thinking too much about his face either, because if I’m having connection problems it probably has more to do with what’s going on behind us than up front.

New goals. They are the spice of my life.

adaptive riding

I had a stellar jump lesson Tuesday, my first jump lesson in close to two months and Murray’s first serious jump school in a month!  I made the tactical decision to do a quick jump school on Monday to get Murray accustomed to the idea of jumping again and let him get acclimated to the fences in the arena, per his insane spookiness lately.  This was the right choice: it took Murray and I a lot of time to get back in sync with jumping and also to remember that not all jumps are pony eating monsters and that even if they are pony eating monsters the best way to avoid them is to jump REALLY HIGH over them.  One of my kid friends, you know just those normal barn rat better than everyone riders, picked up poles for me and reminded me to do the things I am supposed to when jumping like maintain a rhythm and keep my leg on.

The lesson started out very average.  Murray was torn between being happy that we were jumping and really upset that everything in the arena had changed in the last month.  He was squirrely but forward, and was trotting pretty adorably.

july jump 01such engage. much adorbs.

Unfortunately, once we started cantering fences Murray lost his understanding of what leg means and started to get a little lurchy.  When I put my leg on to help him maintain a steady rhythm and reach for the fences it had the absolute opposite effect, and Murray would drop his back and jam another tiny, hideous stride in before the fence.  After six fences in a row of this I pulled Murray out of the line we were in as I desperately needed a reboot.  This was not working.

While I was lamaz breathing to keep my ish together B told me to change my strategy.  Instead of sitting on Murray and driving him to the fences with my seat, she had me go back to the not-quite-half-seat of yesteryear and half halt and rebalance Murray with my thighs while keeping my seat really light.  (I had moved away from this to avoid jumping ahead and be able to use my seat more effectively.  I just do what I’m told.)

july jump 04

And it worked.  DUH.

I am a huge proponent of doing what I’m told by my trainer.  I like to think that I fight back with her the least of all the adults, and sometimes that’s certainly true.  But I can also be a bit of a pain in the ass sometimes.  Fortunately, this was not one of those times, and trainer managed to drag my back from the brink of an absolute meltdown with this strategy.

Oh trainer. How I love you.

The rest of our lesson went really well, especially for a rusty Murray and Nicole.  We jumped through the two stride, getting three every time but one (no groundlines maybe? this line caused us a LOT of trouble), jumped some new(ish) scary filler, and got through the one stride line with ones many times, including with my helmet cover falling off.

july jump 02assistant trainer turned this broken chevron into an adorable watermelon slice!

The big lesson from this lesson was to be adaptable.  If I had been schooling on my own and Murray pulled this there is no way I would have figured out to change my strategy, and I’m sure I would have kept  jamming my bony little ass into his spine and he would have kept jamming four more inches of stride in before the fences.  I am just not that good of a rider yet.  But it’s something I should remember — Murray is teaching me all these different strategies to ride him well, and I need to remember to use them.  But it’s hard when you’re out of practice.  (Let me reiterate: I love my trainer.)

The funniest part of our lesson was when we did just one more course.  My kid friend videographer had put my helmet cover on top of the pole over the barrels and as I came towards it I yelled “Oh you may have doomed us!!!!”  Embarrassingly, Murray did not give two shits about the helmet cover.  I, however, stared it down so hard that I buried Murray to the fence.

july jump 3

So I guess it’s a good thing that Murray is now more educated than me… that means I did my job, right?

always learning

I’ve had a hard time scheduling rides, lessons, and writing since I got back from Australia as I’m living a new work/volunteer/life schedule AND moving houses on top of that.  In short, instead of teaching I’m now going to San Francisco to play at the zoo 2+ days a week (though I luckily have friends to stay with in the area between consecutive days), still managing the ranch office (w/ taxes upcoming and irrigation in full swing), and then trying to finish up my thesis and get my work done around the barn and my horse ridden and my boyfriend visited and suddenly I’m living the Megan and L life out of my car.

so dreamy

Murray loves it though.  He comes in during the day and eats a little, naps a little, eats a little, naps some more, pushes the dirt around in his paddock to make himself a pillow and re-adjusts for his nap… it’s the life.  He’s getting ridden just enough to get himself some attention, and not so much that it feels like work.

I did manage to get in a dressage lesson on Tuesday morning, both to get my trainer’s assessment on yet another dressage saddle that I’ve been riding in, and to keep working on that elusive outside rein contact.  I borrowed a barn kids’ JRD one weekend day and Murray felt amazing.  I have always maintained that he’s not a super fussy guy about saddle fit, but he was so forward and into the contact that day that I thought it was worth another test.  I also didn’t hate how it made me feel, so I wanted some trainer evaluation.  (The verdict on the saddle: it was a bit wide, but Murray definitely did seem to move better in it.  I’ll give it another go, but obviously this exactly saddle is not the ticket, though something like it may work well.)

IMG_1963 Change averse right here

The lesson itself focused on encouraging Murray to accept that outside rein contact and get him to bend around my inside leg instead of my inside rein.  It’s a hard concept for him because he has relied so heavily upon that inside rein for balance and connection for so long.  (This was a crutch, yes, but also a valuable training tool.  I think I will write more about it later, as I’ve had some interesting discussions with my friends about this in the last few days.)  Murray is averse to change and gets claustrophobic easily, and responds to that by shortening his stride and tensing his neck and back, i.e. the anti-dressage.  I can get mean and kick him into the outside rein, sure, but the result of that is that he slowly pulls me out of the tack and then goes from a true bend to a counter bend and suddenly — hooray! — he’s on his beloved inside rein again.

IMG_1985Which rein do you think has more contact?!  Can hardly tell if there’s contact on either here.

We worked on the beloved 20 meter circle.  After warming up with some stretchy work as soon as I picked up the outside rein and asked for a bit of connection to it Murray’s gait got stiffer, his back stopped swinging, and he got tenser overall.  To ease him into it, trainer had me push Murray into the outside rein for a little bit and then relax the outside rein so he could resume stretching.  I worked hard on not pulling Murray into the connection with the inside rein and instead pushing him into the outside rein with my inside leg, and also keeping him well aligned on the circle and not letting his haunches drift around.  The benefits of this strategy were multi-fold:  Murray slowly got more comfortable with the outside rein connection and became much steadier for longer periods of time, I gained a better understanding of how to lighten the contact without giving away the reins, and we reinforced the request for the stretchy trot.

megandressage2Very interestingly, Murray struggled less with this tracking right (with my weak hand on the outside, and his weak hind on the inside), but I suspect it was because we went that way second.  As he got more comfortable, I could feel his back swinging more and his gait opening up even with the outside rein contact, which is huge progress for him.  Even better, he was really moving his outside foreleg around the circle, instead of pivoting his haunches around his front leg a little with each step, which is the influence of that outside rein.

We worked on the same thing in the canter, with a slightly different strategy.  Tracking left Murray wanted to counter-flex again, but just pushing him into that rein didn’t really work, so I gently massaged the inside in conjunction with my inside leg to help him keep the inside bend and flexion.  To the right he actually wanted to drift to the inside circle while maintaining his right bend, so I worked extra hard on pushing him to the outside.  Good progress overall.

The last thing we worked on were lengthenings, which are probably the weakest part of our repertoire of first-level movements.  Murray has never had a firm grasp on the concept, and usually offers to trot spastically or canter or just do nothing.  Now that I had this really solid outside rein connection though I could balance him in a circle on the short side, half halt through the corner, and then let him open his frame up a little bit as we came out of the corner and then ask for the lengthening.  This setup got fantastic lengthenings going left and okay ones to the right — once again that weak right hind not wanting to push.  The outside rein connection was crucial here: in the past even with a steady contact to both reins an attempt to lengthen his frame was typically an invitation to hollow, and then the “big trot” ask just resulted in “jazz toezz!!”  Now I could lengthen his frame with just a softening of the outside rein and he did so in a balanced way, and then the big trot ask was just MOAR TROT.  It was cool.

IMG_8864Can reach with legs if properly motivated…

This lesson was particularly good because it solidifed a lot of the concepts that have been pretty half-baked for me and Murray.  We both got a better understanding of the connection to the outside rein and a better way to manage that connection (when I’m sucking or when Murray is feeling confined).  It was one of those lessons heavy on the learning, my favourite type of lesson!

theory vs application

We all know how it goes*: you’re at a clinic and the clinician has you and your horse going better than ever before.  Their timing is impeccable, their advice is spot on, and it’s exactly what you need to make your horse move like they have never moved before.  Even when you make mistakes, which you do because you’re only human, it’s just fine!  Because you can correct them with the helpful wisdom of your spirit guide, and you are soon trucking along with the perfect shoulder-in angle, in a fantastic renvers, doing some baby half-passes across the arena like a badass.  And then you try to replicate this ride outside of your clinic lesson and instead of angels singing you’re hearing sad trombones…

veronica
clinic magic not for you

*At least sometimes.

Usually when I try to apply all the magic that I learned at a clinic I end up wondering if I’m remembering all the things I’m supposed to be remembering and cursing the fact that it just doesn’t quite feel right.  I’m simply not good enough to replicate everything I was taught at the clinic all at the same time, so I have to break it down piecemeal and then put it back together.

So let’s take my lesson with Megan as an example, because it’s the clinic I most recently rode in.  Right now I’m simultaneously trying to teach Murray to connect to the outside rein, not lean on the inside rein,  bend around my leg instead of his own shoulder, track his hind feet up under his body, and not move laterally on a circle at all times.

IMG_8822-2It’s a lot of things.  And when Megan is telling them all to you in this magical stream-of-consciousness fashion and you’re just doing it all and you feel these moments of rightness, it’s great.  And then I got on my horse for my first dressage ride after that clinic and Murray was falling all over himself, dragging himself towards the inside of the circle on increasingly tinier and tinier circles, couldn’t connect to the outside rein to save his life and mostly spent his time just trying to counterflex around that outside rein, and I was seriously booting him off of my inside leg (especially when it was my right leg) with these huge full-leg-slap-kicks that I’m sure Murray really appreciated.

(I personally needed to go cold turkey on the inside rein, and that ride helped me be a lot more accountable for my inside rein use and using it consciously.  But it wasn’t really a fair or nice thing to do to Murray.)

yves8
am I really surprised that I get responses like this when I kick him like that?

Instead of trying to approach everything I learned head on, I try to break the lessons up into sensical pieces that I can accomplish really well and practice them until it starts to feel natural.  Right now I’m just focusing on the connected outside rein, inside leg for bend, and no inside rein.  Those three things are hard.  And it takes dedicated practice* for me to insert them into my repertoire.  This is also dedicated practice for Murray — he is slowly figuring out that he can’t just fall through my inside aids and end up on a hot mess of a 5 meter circle.

* Something honestly worth its entire own blog post

That’s my strategy.  But I want to know — what’s your strategy?  I (really really hope that I) can’t be the only one out there who can’t just replicate their clinic rides at home, but you all somehow incorporate them into your riding repertoire too.  So tell me — how do you make those ever-so-valuable clinic lessons carry over into your everyday riding?

(And because I’m a nerd I also take notes.  And measure things.  Quantifiability, yo.)

moar!

I had a jump lesson scheduled on Thursday afternoon and was looking forward to rebuilding my jumping relationship with Murray and continuing to work on teaching him to jump.  And then, right as I was about to pick up my jump saddle put it on him, it started to pour.  Absolute sheets of rain that obscured my view of the end of the outdoor arena from the barn (not even a 200 meters away) and made me pick up the dressage saddle instead.  B came running in from her previous lesson and was more than happy to have me dressage inside instead.

Of course, less than ten minutes into my dressage lesson the rain absolutely stopped but oh well.  Pics from a previous lesson in the glorious sunshine, not this week’s lesson in the rainy rain and indoor.

febdressage09A dressage lesson was in good order, though, because integrating a bigger stride into my horse’s repertoire is important for both dressage and jumping.  Murray started with quite a good walk, and then I picked up the reins and asked him to quietly walk around with some contact, instead of in his standard stretchy-free-walk-ish-but-not-quite posture.  To my surprise Murray did not object greatly, and we moved into the trot without minimal issue.  Unfortunately, it was Murray’s shitty tiny trot, so I worked hard trying to encourage him to step more forward and move out.  Our indoor footing is still a little on the deep side in the middle since it’s arrival a few weeks ago, so that could kiiiinda be an excuse, but we worked in the better spots a lot too.

B immediately had me push for more than Murray’s little trot, and Murray seemed in a good mental place to receive that pushing.  Instead of resisting and flinging himself around like he did at our lesson with Local Olympian, he was like “ugh FINE”.  B wanted me to push Murray a little beyond where I wanted our working-trot to be — even to feel a little uncofortable/rushed — so that I could settled back down to a “compromise” of a good working trot.  This is a bit the opposite of the strategy Local Olympian had me try (“come with me to this nicer trot!”) but since Murray was responding well to it, I think both probably have a place in my repertoire.

febdressage11
moar trot! moar! I think this frame is stretched though, my horse’s legs aren’t that thick.

We also worked on steadying my connection with the outside rein, especially to the left rein when tracking right.  Murray naturally wants to ping off that rein or use the left rein contact as an excuse to counter-bend lean on his right shoulder, so I worked on quietly reminding him to keep some bend to the right without overdoing it.  I am a bending freak — I love bend! MOAR BEND! — and have, according to Local Olympian (and B agrees) “more bend than I know what to do with”, so I really need to work on taming that instinct.  The correct bend for a 20 meter circle, and even a 15, is less than I feel like it should be.  Having the correct amount of bend, in turn, helped me avoid the feeling of constantly leg yielding around corners and circles, another thing I had wanted to work on.

IMG_1985
Too bendy, Nicole!

Next up B taught me how actually lengthen the stride at the trot instead of just dumping my horse on his face and hoping for the best across the diagonal. The aforementioned dump-and-pray was my strategy for the first few lengthenings, until B told me to wait until I could feel Murray coming into the connection and then push my hands forward slowly like I was pushing two chopsticks forward.  We struggled more tracking right than left but we got some.  And damn — you can feel it — when you get them.  I started grinning like an idiot when I got the first one, I could feel Murray’s back come up and he took a hold of the bit and really stepped forward.  My MIL has described a good lengthening as feeling like your horse is on rollerskates, and yes! It does!

After trot extensions we worked on the canter lengthening to 15 meter circle at the canter, which I thought we had a pretty good hold on but it turns out that given my ineptitude and his druthers Murray doesn’t actually use himself in his canter lengthenings, so I had to ask for a little more connection there too.  My trick of riding the next quarter of the 15 meter circle worked out well, and I just had to remind Murray  not to lean on the right shoulder too much when tracking right.

feb dressage canter 3I’m fairly pleased with our dressage progress lately, given that we have spent so little time riding and I’ve been fighting Murray not feeling quite right and not necessarily coming out mentally prepared to work.  It’s a good thing I put nothing on my schedule until April though, because I have no idea how much more this stupid thesis will stop me from schooling my horse.  So at least we have time.  And even then there’s always plenty of that.