November 23, 2014

Kickboxing Dressage Horses

Some of you may have seen this article before, which I wrote in 2008. I am posting it now by request.

Completely gratuitous picture of Elliot 🙂

Now into my 4^th week of kickboxing, I see clearly that learning to kickbox is simply dressage for people. It’s all about building strength and flexibility, but this time it is my job, not my horse’s, to do the physical work. The trainer hasn’t yet uttered the term “gymnasticising” but I have a suspicion she is thinking it.

I should have seen this epiphany coming. On Day One, I was smugly confident that I, a former intercollegiate athlete afterall, would pick up this sissy-pants kickboxing in a snap. Alas, pride goeth before a fall. Five minutes into the class I was reduced to giggling at my coltish attempts to keep in step. Occasionally off the beat, often with legs entangled, I began the journey as a goofy young horse–no balance, no muscle tone, but happy to go.

During this time, I relied heavily on my trainer. The manner in which I looked to her is just as young horses look to us: “Um, a little help?” What elevated my favorite trainers was their gift for simply preparing me to succeed. Perhaps as we were doing a side kick she’d say, “Forward kick in 3, 2, 1”, so that I could be thinking about how to change to the forward kick before I was asked to do it. Transitions presented in this manner were simple and fun to perform. If trainers did not give this “verbal half halt”, the transition would be disorganized and rushed. Worse yet, repeated muffed attempts would leave me vaguely frustrated, and perceiving myself as incompetent. I realize, with more than a little sadness, that I have felt horses experience this frustration with me. The kickboxing horsie in me, and the grass-munching ones in my pasture, appreciate having a little “heads up”.

My inner horsie learns best with occasional praise. As my legs flopped about, while my neighbors’ kicks snapped vividly, I was acutely aware that I was not competent. From my viewpoint as I struggled, the best trainers responded by encouraging improvement rather then by highlighting shortcomings. Good trainers trust that people and horses would prefer to be competent, and therefore generously acknowledge improvement. This tactic encouraged my inner horsie to strive more cheerfully and probably more effectively.

With some effort, I’m about a 2^nd Level Kickboxing Dressage Horse these days. Mostly balanced, and I have to admit, a little overconfident at times. “Ah, yes, next comes the boxer’s hop and then a side kick,” says my presuming inner horsie. When a front kick comes in where the side kick should have been, uppity inner horsie morphs to attentive inner horsie in a hoofbeat. There’s nothing like a little variety to keep that inner horsie tuned in.

Timely half halts, honest praise and creative work. Today I was a kickboxing dressage horse, and for me, that has made all the difference.

November 11, 2014

Stopping horses in the hunt field

So tonight I spoke with a writer who will be interviewing several horse professionals concerning bits and foxhunting for an article in the Masters of Foxhounds beautiful publication, Covertside. (Also on line as eCovertside).

Here are the notes I wrote up for her before we talked. They are my thoughts on bitting and training horses and riders to do downward transitions in general. They are in no particular order, but maybe you will find them interesting, useful or maybe a point to correct me on next time we meet. Enjoy!

Horses stop because they were taught that they would get a release in their mouth when they react correctly with their feet. Bits don’t stop horses. Training stops horses.

Putting on a bigger bit when your horse is not acting as you wish is exactly as effective as shouting more loudly to someone who speaks another language.

Many horses brace, tighten and run from mouth pain. Then some riders think they need to turn up the bit severity and pull harder. Then the horse pulls harder in response. It becomes a spiral of increasing tension. If you turn down the bit severity, and spend a little time acclimating the horse to the new contract of “rider is light in the reins, horse is light in the bridle” horses can become less defensive and subsequently hear a softer message more easily. Often the answer is less bit and some rider help.

kineton and snaffle

A kineton is another way to put a governor on bit pressure. When the kineton was first introduced, people thought it must be harsh because even the hardest pullers and bracers would respond better to the bit. It turns out the hardest pullers and bracers were the most sensitive and only pulling and bracing to protect their mouths. When they didn’t have to protect themselves from their mouth pain (because the kineton did), the riders got better results.

If you are using a curb with a chain, you may have better effect if you switch to a leather curb strap or add a rubber channel over the chain. If you insist on using a curb chain only, the thoughtful way to do it is to twist it so that the chain lies flat. A horse has many nerves that run in the chin groove and the best effect elicited there is with a gentle aid.

A horse stops best by using his hind end. When riders signal a stop or downward transition by opening their hip angle, closing their thigh and engaging their core before using their hands, the horse has a shot at producing a balanced and expedient transition.

WFP smokin’ the ditch and wall and rockin’ the grab strap

Wearing a grab strap saves accidently water-skiing off a horses’s mouth when going up hill or at other times when balance may be at issue. Pulling when you don’t mean to “wears out the brakes” just like over breaking in your car. William Fox Pitt, who has won the Rolex Kentucky Three Day Event several times, wears a grab strap.

Halting using only your hands (which only activates the bit) will produce a horse that stops on its forehand, in a heap. It feels like stopping a horse trailer with draft horses in it with only the truck brakes – the back end pushes the front and the stop takes longer. Or think about stopping a bicycle using only the front brakes – the back end comes up, the front end goes down. Brake too hard with the front only, and the back end comes over the front. This is the opposite effect of what we want in a downward transition. But, when a horse is allowed and encouraged to use his hind end to stop (by the rider opening her hip angle, closing her thigh and engaging her core and “stopping” herself before pulling on the reins) the transition feels like stopping a trailer when the trailer brakes are working perfectly, or like stopping a bike with the back brakes. The back end stays down and the front end stays relatively up. The transition feels, and indeed is, balanced, and is usually executed more quickly and with less fuss from the horse.

September 5, 2012

Land Rover Burghley HT and what I thought I knew

This isn’t Burghley, it is Eddie and me at Fox River Valley PC HT, because I don’t have pictures of Burghley and the post needed brightening up and who doesn’t like to look at a pretty tb jumping? I do like Eddie’s form here. Knees up and bascule. Yay! I could have a more auto release, but not bad riding on the whole. (Yes, I have pictures of me riding perfectly badly. Gee I just can’t lay my hands on them…)

So the Land Rover Burghley Horse Trials took place over Labor Day weekend. Super cool event of course and amazing that ALL the rides are online on Burgley.tv, listed by name and phase.

So, of course, I’ve been watching them. All. In batches of three or four, in a spare moment on our smart tv (ok, which kicks serious booty, but it could also be done on any web-enabled computer) And this morning I learned that one thing I thought I knew for sure is, well, just flat out wrong.

Watch Ben Hobday’s ride on Guna Be Good. First of all, love that the horse is jacking around in the start box and Ben is like “Ho hum, another day at a four star.” Well done, Ben. There’s no need to add to the drama. Then off they go out of the start box and jump around the first two minutes quite beautifully. At around 3 minutes 30 seconds in, they are coming down to a HUGE white oxer. The thing is massive. The horse is cross cantering right on down to it. I braced myself. Of course a horse can’t jump a max 4* oxer from a cross canter. Everyone knows that. A cross canter takes a large part of their longitudinal power and sends it laterally – wasted into space. Guna Be Good and Ben Hobday don’t subscribe to that theory. The horse produced a beautiful jump, well up over the rails and cantered off like a champ.

The horse cow-cantered several more jumps on course. (A ‘cow canter’ is the same as a cross canter. This information is brought to you by my dear Daddy who grew up on a dairy farm and one day pointed out that holsteins always “cross canter”. Check it out next time you see a cow cantering somewhere. If you live somewhere where you only see cows on milk cartons, sorry for you. Try to get out more. 😉 ) And the horse did a beautiful job over the fences.

So there’s my ‘Ah ha’ for the day: Probably a true canter is a better choice, but no reason to go to confession about the occasional cross canter coming down to a fence. I did not know that.

Other thought for the day: Watch a bunch of xc rides on Burghley tv and especially pay attention to what the riders do when they cross the finish line. They stay in two point, up off their horses’ backs, despite the fact that they just held two point for most of the 11+ minute trip around the course. They praise their horses. They get off as soon as they can. Brilliant horsemanship. If you want to be excellent, fill your mind with images like the riding and horsemanship seen at Burghley 2012.

November 2, 2011

I’m Camie and I’m a coke addict

Oooooh, icy cold deliciousness

Oh, how I loved the icy cold deliciousness of a coke in the morning. The sweet release of carbon when the can is opened, the sound of it pouring over ice and the quiet fizz as it sat by my computer. Sometimes I would buy a 32 0z. coke and sip it all morning. It was great. I wouldn’t get hungry at 10 a.m. if I had a 32 oz. coke there feeding sweet sugar into my veins all morning. Have a coke and a smile. I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony. Coke is it!

I’d be driving in to work and thinking to myself, “I need a little treat.” Stop in at my favorite fuel station, talk and laugh with the attendants since by now I’d developed a relationship with them, fill my cup with cubed ice (not crushed!) and fill the plastic cup with the nectar of the gods. Enjoy all morning.

I never drank coke in the afternoon or evening. It was a morning ritual for me.

And then one day I noticed how ridiculous it is for a college-educated extremely fortunate person to put high fructose corn syrup daily into my body. It just finally made no sense. I decided to quit.

I didn’t quit because continuing to drink soda would make me fat (though it would) or because my mom has Type II diabetes. I quit because I finally realized just how stupid it is to drink soda on a regular basis. There just is no redeeming quality in soda. I simply fell out of love with it.

It has been 12 days. Driving past my Quik Trip the first few times was really a challenge. I drove a new route to work. I also bought the kind of tea I like, even though it is more expensive than soda (which was my excuse for not buying it on a regular basis before. Lame-o.) I also had to start bringing a 10 a.m. snack, since I couldn’t rely on high fructose corn syrup to carry me to lunch. So I brought apples or pears or nuts. The first of the positive changes.

Then, since I had a healthy snack at 10 a.m. and didn’t have gut rot from all that soda, I felt like having a decent lunch. With the lack of morning caffeine and the more frequent healthy lunches, slowly but surely the afternoon crash I used to be able to set my watch by at 2:30 has dissipated. Another unanticipated bonus.

After a week off soda, I started to sleep through the night rather than having to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Maybe TMI, but also a bonus.

And other changes. I don’t have to carry my cans home for recycling, my teeth are whiter and I drink more water, which tastes better to me now for some reason.

But the best, THE BEST, was today. It was 78 degrees at our house today. The forecast for tomorrow is for 40 degrees and a rain/snow mix. Today I could wear a T-shirt and ride in the fields and woods near our house, tomorrow I will have to wear a sweatshirt and ride indoors (ok, that isn’t so bad either, but still, my point is that today was glorious weather for November 1st in the mid-latitudes). So I wanted to ride all four horses TODAY. I wasn’t tired. I didn’t hit the afternoon nap wall. I didn’t have to run in and go to the bathroom. I just rode 4 fabulous horses. I hacked all over southern Story county. I worked on connection, lengthenings, galloping, leg yields, you-name-it. They were all great.

Coke or this?

Charlie reminded me about the thrill of galloping. Eddie aced the cavaletti. Sammy is learning to let go in his poll and breathe. And Elliot was the last to go. Many is the time in the last year where I was too tired to ride the last horse. Very disappointing and left a hangover of guilt along with the tiredness. Not today. Today I tacked up the last horse with ease, warmed up in the arena over the cavaletti and then out for a hack as the sun set. Balanced canter and medium canter, joyful, springy goofy-warmblood trot. Then a swinging walk the last quarter mile home. I was the luckiest person on earth tonight.

All because of one change. I gave up coke because I decided it was a ridiculously stupid habit. I didn’t know how right I was until I stopped doing it.

Have you given up a bad habit and been pleasantly surprised by unanticipated horse-related repercussions? Maybe you have changed your diet specifically for your horse. I’d love to hear your experiences.

October 9, 2011

Sandhill dressage

The Eddie

Literally at the very last minute, while our truck, hitched to the trailer, was warming up in the driveway, I decided to take Eddie hunting instead of Charlie. Charlie felt a little funny to me yesterday, nothing I could put my finger on, and since I had the option to take Eddie, I went with it. Eddie’s had a difficult month and I thought having some fun on a foxhunting weekend might be just what the doctor ordered.

So we loaded up and traveled the 6 hours to the sandhills of northern Nebraska for a weekend with our hunt, North Hills Hunt. We put Eddie and Sammy,

Sammy, early morning showjumping in 2010

Jay’s ride for the weekend, in a paddock at the Rodeo Grounds in Burwell, NE, home of Iowa’s biggest rodeo. The dazzling extravagance of pipe fences around a weedy sandlot would be home for the weekend. They were cool with it. They rolled in the sand and got weeds in their manes and tails, grinning and exclaiming that they were now Real Rodeo Horses. Perfect, we’ve arrived.

Nebraska Sandhills

The sandhills of northern NE are basically an ancient desert, dunes now held in place by a sparse grass exoskeleton. The sandhills are a fantasy land for riding horses. Most landowners own vast stretches in the area because, with the sparse grass, that is what it takes to run cattle, the primary interest of the ranchers in the area. If you get permission to ride the ground of 3 or 4 ranchers, you have a day’s trot to get from one end to the other. But you won’t be able to do it, because this is the sandhills, and they aren’t just whistling dixie about that. If you wanted to put some condition on yourself and your event horse, a week or two out here would do it.

Speck surveying the Burwell landscape in 2006

In Eddie’s work at home, we have been focusing on suppleness and elasticity, both laterally and longitudinally. Job One, though, is longitudinal – over his topline. His busy thoroughbred brain has him always thinking, analyzing, wondering, hoping, commenting and more. He’s a chattering squirrel of mental activity. He translates this wealth of drama into his body. He stores it at the base of his neck, which he raises and tightens and then very cleverly squeezes it with the strength of a python out through his poll. He has then become Rock Hard Monster Horsie. Monster Horsie never uses this power for evil, but what would happen if he could use all that drama-muscle for good?

This was my experiment for the weekend then, to see if Monster Horsie energy could be harnessed for better movement or more suppleness or perhaps powering a small city.

I want to make it clear that I had a great time hunting. I watched hound work, I rode beautiful country, I managed to be useful to the hunt a time or two when asked and I chatted with friends at appropriate moments. But, in the same manner that a computer can run one program in the foreground and another in the background as we work, Eddie’s longitudinal suppleness was always running in the background of my mind.

As we trotted out to the fixture in the morning, I focused on elastic contact. When he (predictably) tightened his poll, lifted his neck and dropped his back, I kept my leg on, kept the contact and waited him out until he relaxed the muscles that were causing him to go inverted. He relaxed. It lasted about 2 seconds. He tightened, so I kept my leg on, let the contact passively resist until he softened, and then I immediately focused on being elastic again. Yay, it lasted 3 seconds. Lather, rinse, repeat for two hours. Sometimes the softening of his topline would last for 2 minutes, sometimes it would last for 4 seconds. It was not a linear process by any stretch of the imagination. I consciously avoided attaching any significance to the length of time he stayed loose over his topline. Any proper step from him was welcome and any tightening was passively-resisted without assigning judgement or emotion to it. I doubt anyone in the hunt field knew (or cared, they were hunting after all!) about the conversation Eddie and I were having.

What was happening was that he was learning to use different muscles. Rather than pulling himself with tension from the front, he was encouraged to relax, get out of his own way, engage his hind end and push over his topline. The terrain was helping, too. As he was invited to change his balance while conquering hills and avoiding ruts made in the sand by the cattle, I think I heard him whisper, “Aha! I think I get it. This kinda works better.”

He felt taller, and lighter on his feet. In the best moments, I reveled in the power surging from his hocks across the live wire of the longissimus dorsi of his back under the saddle. A live trampoline had been placed where once a tight hammock had been.

Sometimes a riding breakthrough occurs when I look very carefully at a problem with full attention, and work diligently to fix it. Sometimes I have been the benefactor of some wisdom from a particularly insightful instructor, a good book or article, or thoughtful judge. But sometimes, like finding a faint constellation in the night sky, the solution reveals itself when I don’t strive to find it, but rather use my peripheral vision, wait, and allow it to appear.

“Seems easier to push than to let go and trust, but it’s alright.” Indigo Girls, It’s Alright.

September 30, 2011

Just do it

I got the ginger chicken started and moved on to the 45 minute simmering process. Too long to hang out, but usually too short to ride. But it was a fabulous fall day and we have horses (and riders!) that need to get foxhunting fit. So hubby and I went out, ran a brush over the pretty-clean-already horses, picked hooves, tacked up and still had 39 minutes to ride. (Ok, maybe we could actually eek out 45 minutes yet, it wasn’t going to spoil supper to have it simmer an extra few minutes)

Ok, this is a winter sunset, but work with me here, it was pretty tonight too.

So, off we went on a hack. I should be clear that these horses live out at pasture and are moving around all the time. They don’t require the same warmup that a stalled horse might. We walked for two minutes and then picked up a nice working trot for about half a mile of field edges, a bit of gravel road, over a bridge and into the CRP for a nice long canter. What a spectacular sunset, all the better when viewed from the back of a horse. We continued on our 2.5 mile loop, trotted toward home, walked the last bit, scrubbed their faces with the rubber scrubbie, gave them a thank you pat and cookie, turned them out and went in for supper.

So, their tails weren’t perfect today and we didn’t clean the tack at the end. No we didn’t have them inspection-clean. Would we be this cavalier every day? Um, not so much. Was it infinitely better than watching Cash Cab while we waited for the chicken to cook? You betcha.

September 29, 2011

From the Start

End of test at Otter Creek HT

The horse chiropractor was supposed to come today but he was a bit late. Ok, he was 2 hours late. God love him, he is the best I have ever seen work on a horse, judging from the horses’ expressions, but he has almost literally no sense of time. Well, I knew that, which is why I had the appointment scheduled at my house instead of at the clinic – so that I could ride or putter about the place while I waited.

So I rode a training horse, who was a champion in ignoring the snapping drapes (partial roll-up sides on the arena) in the 45 mph wind, puttered about the barn doing some sweeping and doing a little tack cleaning. I didn’t want to tack up another horse, get into a ride and then have the chiropractor arrive 10 minutes into the ride, when I would have to stop. Well, then I got a call that we would have to postpone the chiro visit until tomorrow.

So, I tacked up Eddie and rode during the time that I had set aside to be with the chiropractor. This meant that I had two and half hours! I don’t know about your life, but found time is rockin’ to me. So I tacked up. I got to thinking about the weekend and the basic difficulty we were having – tightness over the topline. It was directly mentioned in the dressage test, it played a roll in the turn (or non turn) to the corner on xc, and it played a big roll in showjumping. The judge’s comments on our dressage test had also pointed out a lack of acceptance of the bridle and acceptance of the leg. Very good points. We went back to square one. We started with walk and halt, and spent about half an hour on that. Then on to walk trot, and after another quiet half hour had that mostly in hand. Canter work is not even close, but we had a few moments of Not Bad. The best part of the whole day was that the number of relaxed breaths from Eddie dramatically outnumbered the tension snorts that he will let out when confused.

Much praise and done for the day. We’re on the road back.

September 25, 2011

Showjumping

So, yeah, that didn’t work.

Eddie, who jumps just fine, really. Photo courtesy D and G Photography

You may recall yesterday’s blog about the impromptu test run of the air vest. This scientific foray, of course, caused me to be eliminated from the horse trial competition. After cooling Eddie out and freshening up as much as a change of clothes and a deodorant shower in the trailer tack room can offer, it was my time to do that groveling walk of shame to the President of the Ground Jury (POGJ) to ask for permission to ride showjumping the next day.

“So, how’d you get eliminated?” sayeth the POGJ.

“Well, I inadvisedly opted to put the 6th stride in the 5-stride bending line to the corner and then saw a good chance to test whether my inflatable vest works, and, sure enough, it does.” (Rules of begging permission from the POGJ: 1) completely own your stupidity, 2) a subtle bit of humour earns bonus points.)

<all knowing, tolerant chuckle from the POGJ> “Ok, you ride after the last Prelim horse and if you have even one refusal, you must retire.”

“Sure thing, thank you.”

So this morning I warmed up with the people actually still in the competition. Eddie was really very good. I executed all the skills that I and Kyle Muckler of Maffitt Lake Farm have been installing in the last few weeks. Eddie was jumping beautifully. I couldn’t miss a distance. I was fired up for what I thought would be a very nice showjumping round.

We walked up to the show ring and Eddie started to get tight. And I mean tight. Clicking his teeth, tight in his back and neck, short strides. I did some bending exercises and he improved. We went into the ring and he went feral. No button I was pushing worked. There was no bend, no yield, hell, no true canter. There was a skittering, scared-puppy-peeing-on-the-carpet feeling underneath me. I thought he would get better as we got moving, so I went on and cantered down to fence one, a nice square oxer, which he is great at. I made sure I was riding well down to it. He jumped it very well in front, and pulled the rail with his back hooves. “Seriously?” thinks I. “That’s a gimme for you.” Fence two, he jumped in stride, but also pulled the rail, jump three the same. He crawled over 4a, the oxer and of course, pulled it, put two strides in the one stride line and jumped pretty much through 4b.

I was pulling him up to retire when I heard the whistle blow, which of course, was the POGJ telling me to quit scaring the spectators, and also to assist the jump crew by exiting the arena now since they were going to have half a day’s work to put my flying timber back up. Sorry.

So, we went back to the warm up arena and jumped a few jumps which went perfectly fine. Clearly, the atmosphere was the problem.

Back when he was learning to event, I spent 2 years at Novice level to get him to relax.

I remember his first novice level event. The spectators laughed appreciatively at his deer jumps and audible expressions of tension. They cheered lavishly when he completed the course, and I grinned in thanks to them and praised Eddie like he won the Olympics. Everybody’s ridden a greenie around a course and most can appreciate the palpable victory in simply getting the frightened child horse around the course. I had a lot of fun bringing him along, so I actually forgot why I spent so much time at the lower levels with a 17 hand thoroughbred who could jump a small house.

I did it because Eddie needed it. In the interim sunshine of the success we’ve had at Prelim, I forgot his basic nature.

Then, the two years he had out of competition have allowed his confidence to atrophy. His jumping is fine, as evidenced in warmup. I had no show nerves since I wasn’t competing today and really had no dog in the fight. So, I’m not going to wear the direct riding fault for this one. If there is a fault, it is that I forgot Eddie’s general nature.

Had I reviewed where we started, and suspected he may have needed a ramp back up to prelim, I would have started him back at a lower level of course. I need to remember his nature. He needs to remember he is a star.

February 26, 2011

Yeah, what she said

The stalling point

So the arena has been stalled at an unusable point for a month due to the construction crews moving to a cow/calf operation project that had to get done before calving. Um, arg. This has effectively eliminated any chance of riding to days when the footing happens to be perfect in the pasture or on the gravel roads, which doesn’t happen with frequency in February in Iowa. Of course, before the indoor arena project I had an outdoor arena which I could use with some regularity in winter, but the location of the indoor is where the outdoor was, so I am now effectively hamstrung for riding, until construction begins again in mid-March.

So I’ve been reading. The latest book is “Dressage Masters, Techniques and Philosophies of Four Legendary Trainers”. It is an interview book, simply written and it is really wonderful. I bought it because it has my dressage hero, Klaus Balkenhol, as one of the four, but I’ve found also that the other trainers – Ernst Hoyos, Dr. Uwe Schulten-Baumer and George Theodorescu are equally admirable. It makes me feel good every time I realize that all good trainers sound fundamentally the same. They all have first a love of the horse. That seems obvious, until you meet a trainer who doesn’t love horses. I bought this book for my Kindle for like $15 or something.

Ellen Schulten-Baumer

The quote from it that I want to share with you was spoken by Ellen Schulten-Baumer, whose father, Dr. Uwe Schulten-Baumer, trained her. She currently has 5 Grand Prix dressage horses in her barn that she and her dad trained from 3 year olds. I’m just going to share this quote and get out, because I can add nothing to it. Rock on, people.

“I learned something very important from my father. When a horse doesn’t perform a lesson as expected, I first have to ask myself whether the horse is capable. If the answer is yes, then I must think about how I apply my aids. I must use them better so the horse understands exactly what I want. This may involve riding more preparatory exercises. If I can’t get it right fairly quickly, then I go to something else. It is unfair and unproductive to drill a horse; this causes too much physical and mental stress. I tell my students this also. If they just can’t get it right, they can think about their aids overnight and try again tomorrow. Then the horse and rider get a fresh star together.”

December 21, 2010

Bonus!

It is good to have some appreciable level of fitness when your horse does something extravagant and unexpected like this bit of air time... (Luke Klemm, Camie up. Jay with the video camera.)

It is that time of year when lots of people either a) put on the holiday 7 pounds and just learn to love their new shape or b) put on the holiday 7 pounds and go all manic with the workout resolutions, in this year’s case on January 3rd (Too hung over and/or tired on New Year’s Day and this year January 2nd falls on a Sunday, the resolution killer. Who can start a serious workout program with that much lounging to be done?)

Last winter produced record snow for our part of the world and what started out as character-building in January, turned in to absolute will-shattering, never-ending tedium by mid-February. It was absolutely impossible to ride with no indoor. The horses had confined themselves to the 10′ feet around the barn because that was the only snow they could keep trampled down enough to walk around on. I had to do something, so after I cleaned every closet and rearranged every room in the house out of sheer desperation for activity, Jay and I decided to join the local rec center which has some treadmills and a track, raquetball and basketball courts. It was pretty easy to work out every day. It was a big stress reliever and our bodies actually started to take on a some form of a shape, other than “roundish”.

As spring and summer came, we were plenty active around our place so we dropped our membership and picked it up again a week before Thanksgiving this year when the days started getting pretty short. I don’t know about you, but I find it hard to go inside a building and work out when it is light and pretty outside, but when it turns dark early outside, I am attracted to a bright building with people who are actively not hibernating, like a moth to a deck light.

So I started working out and it bummed hard. Of course I was comparing the fitness I had worked into last winter with where I was starting in the fall. I know better than to do that, but I went all momentarily stupid and did it anyway. Active as we were over the summer, apparently the cardiovascular part of the equation is not challenged by mowing pastures and riding horses. Who knew? Jay joined in about a week after I started and hit the same wall. By that time, I was pretty much back on track and, ok, I’m a naughty-bad wifey sometimes, so I’ll own that it was kind of fun to see him struggle as I had that first week. Heh, heh. For better or for worse for sure, honey, but if you are sucking wind and sweating because you procrastinated and I am fairly whizzing along with a light step and glow, I will not stop myself from smiling and cheerfully asking how your workout is going. It’s in the fine print honey, really it is.

And there are days where working out still is a slog for me. Such as, I can definitely feel a drag on my workout if I had more than one beer the day before. Rats! Or too much soda. Double rats! And some days it is hard to get started. “My Ipod is out of charge.” “That dog walk I did today should cover it.” “My socks are downstairs in the dryer.” The answers are “Your Ipod is optional.” “That dog walk was way too easy to be considered exercise.” and “Go downstairs and get them.” Go. Go. Go. Workout. So I do. We try to go every day, but it turns into 5 days a week. Sometimes my teaching gets in the way, sometimes Jay’s work does.

I had no idea, though, that today was going to be a real payoff. Today I got on a client’s horse to help square him up for an exercise they were having a challenge with. I have really long legs and I didn’t feel like messing with her stirrup length, so I just flipped the stirrups over the horse’s withers and rode stirrupless. I did a lot of canter depart work and lots of cantering for about 20 minutes. It never occurred to me while I was riding that I really haven’t ridden much lately because of the footing and the arena project and I am therefore seriously out of riding shape. As I rode, I was so focused on the horse that I didn’t think about that. Then, at the end of the ride, I was sliding off and I thought, “Ho, Nelly, that wasn’t smart, I am going to be really sore. This might even hurt when my feet hit the ground.” And when that is going through your head, it is a long, anxious way down from a 17h thoroughbred.

And nothing. I felt great. Not a twinge anywhere many hours later. And no, I’m not 18 anymore. All that stuff they say is true. Just do it. Or my personal favorite, “Excuses don’t lift up your butt.” You don’t have to be perfect, you don’t have to train for a marathon, and it doesn’t have to take over your life. My walking program is 33 minutes long. I crank the heck out of the elevation on the treadmill for two minutes, then go back to a level that is easy for me for two minutes. I do a little interval training repertoire that I made up. I keep changing it as my body acclimates. It is totally Camie’s made up fitness plan.

Effective, not terribly pretty... Camie on Derith Vogt's lovely mare, Carolyn

So, if you’ve been thinking about getting in a workout program, go on, do it. Do whatever works for you. Go all crazy fancy, swim on Tuesdays, join a spin class, get all yoga-ed or keep it simple. Like cross country riding, a workout program doesn’t have to always be pretty to be effective.

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