Dressage lesson, Mico beat me up.
Before: a normal riding lesson …
Then: things started to go awry ….
But what you don’t see, because Tony got too cold to take any more pictures, is me flat on the ground after Mico bucked me off. We were having a pretty good lesson–a really good one for me, personally–considering it was maybe 3 degrees F this morning. God bless Janet for coming out to teach us two fools. I used to pooh-pooh quarter sheets as hunter princess fashion, but damn if that thing doesn’t go a long way to keeping my thighs warm, not to mention Mico’s hind end while we warmed up. I took it off for the lesson, so Janet could see what my legs were doing throughout the ride.
This lesson, I felt like I was figuring things out again. Half-halts were going through–all I had to do was lengthen my body, lift up through navel and open my chest like tadasana pose in yoga–Mico had his bad hair moments, too, but I was realizing that I could get him back after one of his tizzys. I was getting my lower legs on more, and in the right position. I was thinking, “hey, I’m getting pretty good at this. If I can ride Mico, I can ride any horse.” Famous last thoughts.
Doublers all along the long side of the arena–using the outside aids to make the corners, 10 meter circles, leg yield around one quarter of the circle, regular leg yield, rising trot/sitting trot transitions … trot to canter transitions. That’s where things started to go bad. The last lesson we had two weeks ago, Mico started kicking out at the whip and outside leg aid during the canter transition. I’ve heard–and now experienced–that canter is a difficult gait for Haflingers. Christine says with consistent riding, Mico’s canter improves and becomes less of an effort for both parties.
So we muddled through the left lead canter–which is typically the more difficult direction for Mico (weaker in the left hind, harder to bend in that direction). Right lead, hoo boy. Discombobulation. Mico started kicking out at the outside leg, so we got back together with some walk-halt-walk-trot transitions before attempting the canter again. Janet even commented about Mico’s stinkeye–what I call his nasty ‘ain’t doin’ it ‘n you can’t make me’ expresssion. Next time around the far corner of the arena, I put my outside leg back, and Mico bucked. And BUCKED. And kept bucking until a combination of him flinging me off/me bailing out left me flailing around mid-air, until I hit the deck, hard. I yelled, “son of a gun!” as I came off, frustrated I couldn’t ride it out. At least the cursing is under control.
Christine and Janet both said that as I was falling off, I managed to twist my body partly around, so my back hit the ground before my head did. I remember being in free-fall, looking at Mico’s legs as I was going down, and thinking I needed to get away from him so he wouldn’t step on me. I guess I managed to do that ok, never mind the fact that he ran away from me as fast as he could, before coming to a stop and staring at me on the ground. My head made a loud thud as it bounced off the ground.
I smacked down hard, and just lay there, squeezing my eyes shut and taking stock. How bad did my head hurt? Anything else? Just my lower back, it seemed. I got up, trying to convince everyone I was ok, and got back on Mico. Man, talk about living a cliche–getting right back on that horse–but I did, because I needed to convince myself I could. I walked and trotted around the end of the arena a few times, then got off and wobbily led Mico out. I told Tony he missed a good show, and he untacked Mico for me, seeing how solicitous Christine and Janet were being toward me, he figured something dastardly must have happened.
I wondered if I had a concussion, but I remember everything that happened, my head doesn’t hurt that bad, and I didn’t start puking. I just had my bell rung pretty damn good. I don’t want to sound like a public service announcement, but thank God I had that helmet on, otherwise the back of my head might be flattened out a little more than it already is.
Who knew–apparently dressage is a full contact sport!
Then: things started to go awry ….
But what you don’t see, because Tony got too cold to take any more pictures, is me flat on the ground after Mico bucked me off. We were having a pretty good lesson–a really good one for me, personally–considering it was maybe 3 degrees F this morning. God bless Janet for coming out to teach us two fools. I used to pooh-pooh quarter sheets as hunter princess fashion, but damn if that thing doesn’t go a long way to keeping my thighs warm, not to mention Mico’s hind end while we warmed up. I took it off for the lesson, so Janet could see what my legs were doing throughout the ride.
This lesson, I felt like I was figuring things out again. Half-halts were going through–all I had to do was lengthen my body, lift up through navel and open my chest like tadasana pose in yoga–Mico had his bad hair moments, too, but I was realizing that I could get him back after one of his tizzys. I was getting my lower legs on more, and in the right position. I was thinking, “hey, I’m getting pretty good at this. If I can ride Mico, I can ride any horse.” Famous last thoughts.
Doublers all along the long side of the arena–using the outside aids to make the corners, 10 meter circles, leg yield around one quarter of the circle, regular leg yield, rising trot/sitting trot transitions … trot to canter transitions. That’s where things started to go bad. The last lesson we had two weeks ago, Mico started kicking out at the whip and outside leg aid during the canter transition. I’ve heard–and now experienced–that canter is a difficult gait for Haflingers. Christine says with consistent riding, Mico’s canter improves and becomes less of an effort for both parties.
So we muddled through the left lead canter–which is typically the more difficult direction for Mico (weaker in the left hind, harder to bend in that direction). Right lead, hoo boy. Discombobulation. Mico started kicking out at the outside leg, so we got back together with some walk-halt-walk-trot transitions before attempting the canter again. Janet even commented about Mico’s stinkeye–what I call his nasty ‘ain’t doin’ it ‘n you can’t make me’ expresssion. Next time around the far corner of the arena, I put my outside leg back, and Mico bucked. And BUCKED. And kept bucking until a combination of him flinging me off/me bailing out left me flailing around mid-air, until I hit the deck, hard. I yelled, “son of a gun!” as I came off, frustrated I couldn’t ride it out. At least the cursing is under control.
Christine and Janet both said that as I was falling off, I managed to twist my body partly around, so my back hit the ground before my head did. I remember being in free-fall, looking at Mico’s legs as I was going down, and thinking I needed to get away from him so he wouldn’t step on me. I guess I managed to do that ok, never mind the fact that he ran away from me as fast as he could, before coming to a stop and staring at me on the ground. My head made a loud thud as it bounced off the ground.
I smacked down hard, and just lay there, squeezing my eyes shut and taking stock. How bad did my head hurt? Anything else? Just my lower back, it seemed. I got up, trying to convince everyone I was ok, and got back on Mico. Man, talk about living a cliche–getting right back on that horse–but I did, because I needed to convince myself I could. I walked and trotted around the end of the arena a few times, then got off and wobbily led Mico out. I told Tony he missed a good show, and he untacked Mico for me, seeing how solicitous Christine and Janet were being toward me, he figured something dastardly must have happened.
I wondered if I had a concussion, but I remember everything that happened, my head doesn’t hurt that bad, and I didn’t start puking. I just had my bell rung pretty damn good. I don’t want to sound like a public service announcement, but thank God I had that helmet on, otherwise the back of my head might be flattened out a little more than it already is.
Who knew–apparently dressage is a full contact sport!
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