Almost steeplechase, or: Hindsight, always 20/20
You know, I was just thinking about how much I appreciate my new jumping instructor. Last night I had another good lesson over at her farm, where she has a quarter mile galloping track. She'd set up two fences on opposite sides bisecting the track, like steeplechase fences, to learn how to jump out of a gallop or at least a really forward canter. We had a plan for the lesson, first to trot the fences, then to canter and finally work up to gallop, but MaryAnn recognized the fact that Clover (and I) got tired, and the quality of our jumps were not going to improve.
Once I sorted out how to half halt and organize several strides ahead of the fence while keeping a forward pace, and remembering to follow with my elbows and look past the jump, Clover had several fantastic jumps out of stride over the vertical on one side of the track and the square oxer on the other. She rounded up and basculed, and thanks to the waterford bit I'd switched to the lesson before, she wasn't leaning on me either. MaryAnn agreed with the choice of bit, saying she was going to suggest the wonder bit, a mild gag bit (sounds horrible but it's nothing to do with gagging) to help get Clover off my hand. But I've used the waterford before and it's doing the trick--plus I'm really/finally learning how to use my legs in half seat and get Clover moving from behind--getting stronger in my seat and taking dressage lessons are making the difference.
Anyways, we cantered the fences, no more than 400-415 mpm, and started to bobble the last couple of goes. MaryAnn had me jump the square oxer one last time to make sure I wasn't overthinking it, and had us quit before having a chance to try it at the gallop. I was thinking about it this morning, and realized that stopping there went a long way to saving me and Clover's confidence, because our performance didn't deteriorate. My old instructor had a tendency to drill and drill: "One last time ... Ok, do it again ... One more time ... If you get it right this time you can quit ... Come around and do it again ... " pushing and pushing for the right jump. I can understand pushing to a certain point, but when things are getting worse and worse, the confidence level goes down and I can see in hindsight that happened in some of my lessons with my old trainer.
Once I sorted out how to half halt and organize several strides ahead of the fence while keeping a forward pace, and remembering to follow with my elbows and look past the jump, Clover had several fantastic jumps out of stride over the vertical on one side of the track and the square oxer on the other. She rounded up and basculed, and thanks to the waterford bit I'd switched to the lesson before, she wasn't leaning on me either. MaryAnn agreed with the choice of bit, saying she was going to suggest the wonder bit, a mild gag bit (sounds horrible but it's nothing to do with gagging) to help get Clover off my hand. But I've used the waterford before and it's doing the trick--plus I'm really/finally learning how to use my legs in half seat and get Clover moving from behind--getting stronger in my seat and taking dressage lessons are making the difference.
Anyways, we cantered the fences, no more than 400-415 mpm, and started to bobble the last couple of goes. MaryAnn had me jump the square oxer one last time to make sure I wasn't overthinking it, and had us quit before having a chance to try it at the gallop. I was thinking about it this morning, and realized that stopping there went a long way to saving me and Clover's confidence, because our performance didn't deteriorate. My old instructor had a tendency to drill and drill: "One last time ... Ok, do it again ... One more time ... If you get it right this time you can quit ... Come around and do it again ... " pushing and pushing for the right jump. I can understand pushing to a certain point, but when things are getting worse and worse, the confidence level goes down and I can see in hindsight that happened in some of my lessons with my old trainer.
Comments
Post a Comment