A Break Through

I had a feeling something was going to happen as I got ready for my lesson on Friday. Just…a feeling. In truth, that’s probably why something did happen, because I was expecting it…and with horses, I have learned, what you expect is what you get. I hadn’t had a very good week, so I was feeling overwhelmed already. And then we practiced jumping.

My biggest problem (I think) in riding, aside from being totally ignorant about what I’m communicating to Fire in the subtle equine language, is that I’m stiff. Stiff + jumping = bad things. I didn’t fall off the first round, but I almost did; and I didn’t fall off the second round, but I almost did. Once I was literally sitting on Fire’s neck, holding on for dear life, and only managed to get back in the saddle because I thankfully hadn’t lost my stirrups.

But he was going way too fast and I wasn’t in control, so I had to redo some things several times. Then Sue told me to do the one reign stop, which I learned about 8 years ago during some stray Western lessons but never actually had to use. So I tried it, but of course, being me, I turned him toward the jump. He jumped, I was suddenly sitting on his neck again, but this time I had lost my stirrups and there was no way I could get back on. I realized it would be better for me to decide when to fall, as opposed to tumbling over his head and being run over, so I dropped to one side and landed in the (thankfully) soft, deep sand.

And then I almost cried. Like I said, it was a bad week, I’ve been struggling with Fire for months, and it just felt like too much. Everything on its own is never that bad, but you all know as well as I do, and probably better, that life loves throwing everything on you all at once sometimes, just to keep you on your toes.

Anyway. Sue showed me the right way to do it, let me calm down before getting back on, and generally everything was okay. I won’t mention the insane bawling that happened later that night, because that would be embarrassing.

After falling off, even if you get back on right away (which you should), I firmly believe you should go riding again as soon as possible after the fall. So I went yesterday, and I was newly determined to make this work; to ride better, to listen to him better, and to communicate better; to be more aware of him and what he was perceiving. I rode for a bit and it was okay, but once I had to do the one reign stop. He was rather surprised when I did this, and even swung his head around to look at me like, “Who are you and what have you done with my usual timid rider?” After that things were much better.

At one stage I got off because I wanted to put a pole down so I could practice the movement of jumping. Usually he just stands there, looking bored. This time when I walked away, I saw him move out of the corner of my eye, and I looked to make sure he wasn’t going to roll or something. But he wasn’t. He was walking after me. When I stopped, he stopped. We stared at each other for a couple seconds, and then I bent down to move the pole in place.

And then I stopped and thought. In a thing called Join-Up, which I won’t go into detail about here, you do a bonding thing with your horse where he chooses you as his leader, and you know it worked if he follows you around afterward. Fire never follows me around unless I have carrots. So I thought, let’s see what happens. And I started walking…and he stayed right behind me. Not invading my space, just staying close, with his nose practically touching the ground. When I stopped, he stopped. A few times he nudged me very lightly on my arm, but that was it; none of the usual pushing and shoving. I did some zig-zags, some sharp turns, and he stayed with me the whole time. And I almost cried again, because this is what I’ve been wanting to experience; Fire being with me because he chooses to be.

So much so that when I was unsaddling him, he tried to come with me to the tack room and was very frustrated by the halter that kept him from following.

Fun or Not, It Still Whips You Good

First horse show, even if it is a fun show. It was a fundraiser for one of the people I take lessons with so she can go to Jozi for a rather important show. Note: all photos were taken by my awesomesauce mommy.

8:40 am: I get there and see there are already three people there. I am forever in awe of morning people who don’t even need one cup of coffee to get up (she says, downing three). Either way, it’s still so early that Fire is sleeping in his stall. Usually he looks semi-happy to see me in a if-I-have-to-work-it-may-as-well-be-you kind of way, but this morning he’s yawning every five seconds and blinking at me in a I-hate-you-forever-and-ever kind of way.

9:40 am: I am finally done grooming him, and possibly skimped on the last bit of brushing. All his winter hair decided to come out today. He’s weirdly passive while I saddle him and I kind of worry that it’s the deep breath before the plunge, but I’m hoping for the best. And I grab a crop just in case. When he sees it he looks even more meek…and then he falls asleep.

10:00 am: After a short warm-up in the small ring, Fire and the other horses are at least no longer droopy-eyed. Apparently small ring=coffee. However, the rest of us, who are used to riding for one hour at a time, are already feeling tired-ish. The grooming alone took three times as long as it usually does (it is a serious arm workout), and we’ve been riding for about 20 minutes. We go over to the bigger ring where the show will take place and walk around, doing our own little pre-show show, so to speak.

10:30 am: And we’re off. A fun show essentially means the following: a) you probably know the judge, b) no show attire unless you want to, but you’ll be very overdressed, and c) it’s most likely smaller than a non-fun show. Also, while you’re doing your thing, you get advice from the judge on how to do better before he/she actually makes a decision, so you’ve got a better chance of doing well. By this time we’ve been riding for almost an hour, and I personally am already tired and my back is aching. However, the excitement of the thing sort of keeps you from feeling too much of that.

11:00 am: I am shocked to find that I don’t ride too badly. I got 4th place for best walk, and a surprising 2nd for best trot. Now it’s on to 3-gaited. This is essentially a judgment on your walk, trot, and canter all at once, and on command; so it judges your ability to control your horse, the quickness of your horse’s response, and the usual judgment on how well you can get your horse to walk, trot, and canter. A note: the walk is the most difficult to get right because horses like to trot. When they walk, you have to make sure they’re awake and taking long, but quick, steps, and their necks must be rounded dressage-style. In the trot, they’re looking to see that the horse is using its rear legs to move itself forward instead of the “lazy” foreleg trot, which is natural to them. In the canter, they have to have rounded necks and…some other stuff…that I’m not sure of. I’m not an expert, okay?

11:30 am: Performance riding. This is an individual thing, and at the show was as follows. First, you walk in a straight line up to the judge and salute. Then you walk to the middle of the ring, trot a figure of eight, trot in a straight line to the judge, halt, salute again. Then you dismount, cross your stirrups over the saddle, put the reigns over the horse’s head, hold the reigns just beneath the jaw, and stand beside the horse to wait for the judge’s nod. Then you turn the horse away from the judge, lead it at a walk in a straight line up to the top, and turn. Now you sprint while the horse trots, and lead it at a trot past the judge. Voila, it’s done. I tied for first in this.

12:00 pm: We’re halfway through the individual games. First was a normal bending race, where you have to weave through obstacles in a row, up and back, as fast as you can. I won the first round but finished last overall. Next was a can race, which is by far the longest. There are six “obstacles” all together; one tire at the start, then a drum, then three poles, then another drum. On the last drum are four cans. You have to bend back and forth, putting cans on the middle four obstacles, then go back again and retrieve the cans, and then race down to the beginning. I finished second. Then was a toolbox race, which was almost the same. By now, we are exhausted. In a show you put in much more effort because you’re being judged, and it drains you, even if it is a lot of fun. So no, you are not supposed to be slouching like I am in the photo, but I couldn’t sit up straight anymore.

12:30 pm: Ah yes, my favorite. The tire race. You bend up, dismount, pick up the tire and put it over your head, and let it drop to the ground. Then you lead the horse as fast as you can [read: you run like a friggin maniac and pull the horse after you] down to the tire. I got first in the first round, and came third overall.

1:00 pm: I’m finished. There were team games after lunch, but I was secretly glad we had to leave because I was way tired. The only other time I’ve been on horseback for more than four hours was when I was eight or so (and much more flexible and energetic) and went on a two-day horse ride in Ethiopia. But this was a lot of fun and I’ll do it again. When I get home, I fall on the couch and lie there until it’s time to sleep, at which point I do, and should have gotten another rosette for my deep sleeping skills.

Overview: I got one 1st place for the performance riding, two 2nds, one 3rd, and two 4ths.I know what I have to work on, and although I wasn’t too keen on shows, I can see now why they’re good to do. You get outside advice and it is fun to see how you do under pressure of competition. I was surprised to find that although I’m not cut throat, I can get quite competitive, but luckily I’m not a sore loser. The horses, on the other hand, were bloodthirsty, and if they had razor sharp teeth blood would have been spilled. Most of them are retired racehorses, so they got a bit…er…crazy. That is, crazier than usual Fire, especially, got very carried away and by lunch time my hands were raw. But it was amazing to have to opportunity to ride for that long, to be with other horse fanatics for that long, and to get rewarded for something you love to do anyway. I’ll definitely do more in the future.

In Motion

Copyright © 2010 by Veronique Kruger

Today I have a little to say about a lot of things, so forgive me if this is choppy and boring. There will be little to no deep thoughts or insights; it is what we call An Update Post.

Firstly, if all goes according to plan, I have precisely 47 days (that’s 1,128 hours, 67,680 minutes, 4,060,800 seconds) until I finish school. FOREVER. After 4,060,800 seconds have passed, I will never have to do anything related to high school again (not counting my potential offspring, but at least I get a decade’s break, you know?).

Secondly, I have completed exactly 61.75 out of 90 hours of horseback riding that is required for my diploma. I can report that these 60-some hours have accomplished the following: 1) I’m not deathly afraid of horses anymore, 2) I can canter without getting a side ache, and 3) I know what those buckle thingies on the bridles and saddles are for.

Thirdly, I am now 19. I just thought I would add that.

Fourthly, my India fund is going well. I’ve received a donation and I’ve sold my bike and am receiving the money in increments, but once I have it all I will officially have R1,350 out of R9,000, or $180 out of $1,300. Once again, any donations and/or prayers are greatly appreciated, and you can email me at africanstardust@gmail.com if you feel like dropping your spare change in my pockets.

Fifthly, I am going to write the South African National Benchmark Tests on Saturday, which include Math literacy and English proficiency evaluations. I’m not too terribly nervous, but I would appreciate your prayers on that day. I will be writing from 7:30 am to 4:30 pm, so please be praying that I stay energized and refreshed and that I can stay focused for all that time. This has everything to do with my admission to UCT, so it’s quite an important day.

That’s all. I thank you if you stayed for all that rambling. If you visit (which is unlikely since most of you live across The Pond and the others, you know, have lives), you will be most warmly welcomed, especially if you bring coffee with you.

<3 africanstardust

The Future Calls

Yesterday I mailed all the extra forms required for application to study at UCT in 2011. I’ve been waiting for today for five years, and in the abstract for twelve. This is the next stage of life, and probably one of the most important.

I feel oddly relieved. I’ve done the best I could so far with school and the forms and getting everything together. All that remains now is to get stellar grades on my current classes (which, not to be arrogant or anything, seems very likely), and to cross my fingers that the admissions people decide I’m worth having as a student. It’s out of my hands now, so there really is no point in stressing about this anymore. All I can do is to do my best in my work now, which I am doing and will continue to.

“What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?” – Vincent van Gogh

In other news, since university is (presumably) fast approaching, I thought I’d post some goals I’d like to have done by the end of the year. Or at least before February next year.

1. Get license

2. Sort out pack rat room and give things away/sell things/throw away junk

3. Get shutterstock account properly set up

4. Get elance account properly set up

5. Finish school (obviously)

6. Make detailed packing list

7. Buy pjs and socks, which I seem to have a perpetual shortage of (they’re dryer food, after all)

8. Finish a good portion of Shard

That’s all, really. But seven months is not at all a long time, especially not when you’re trying to cram four full-year classes into four months, complete 90 hours of horseback riding and not die or be overcome with such a love for horses that you run away with one and never come back, and emotionally prepare yourself to study medicine.

I!Can!Do!It!

<3 africanstardust

PS My apologies for the weird photos of late. I still haven’t recovered all my files from when Charlie crashed, and my camera is in Cape Town.

Our Unnoticed Teachers

I promise that there will be another post at some time in the future in appreciation of all the amazing human teachers out there, but this is not about them. It’s about horses.

First of all, I don’t presume to know all about horses, or really anything, for that matter. But what I do know is this: we have a lot to learn as humans, and they as horses have a lot to teach us. With horses, you can only be arrogant until your next fall. Regardless of how well or how badly you ride, or how much or how little you know about interacting with horses, or for that matter how well trained the horse is, if the horse is in a bad mood, then a bite, kick, or shove is just around the corner. Someone once said that horses are happier than people, because horses don’t spend all their energy trying to impress other horses. Well, this is more than true; and they don’t try and impress people, either.

This afternoon, I went on an outride with several other people, including my instructor’s husband, who sort of takes her place when she doesn’t come along. I’ve been a little stressed and nervous about Fire all week, because he’s been rather competitive lately with some of the other horses, and it makes him…er…gallop? Gallop is an understatement. Let’s go with race. It makes him race. I’m fully open to admitting I did something wrong, since I’m really only a beginner, but…I didn’t do anything wrong, at least not more than usual.

On the outride, he galloped. Sorry, he raced. There is a difference, at least in my very inexpert opinion. I felt him shift under me, and then suddenly we were going at such a speed that I felt nothing of my body or the cold wind or the hard saddle or my sore back. I didn’t feel anything except an explosion of adrenaline in my chest. We were in a vineyard with creeks and water and turns and bushes, and we went about a mile, probably a bit less, turning this way and that, jumping over pools of water that did not need to be jumped over, and so on. For a brief few seconds, I leaned forward and put my hands forward because otherwise I would have fallen off. In those few seconds, I felt so unbelievably with Fire; it was like I was the one racing. At the first turn, it was very sharp and there was a serious drop on the other side, so I yanked the reins left and leaned back. After that I had to lean forward again. He kept jumping over things. Then, at the next turn, it wasn’t so sharp, it was uphill, and I could see the road ahead; so as he slowed down slightly to make the turn, I pulled his head around hard and quickly so that his nose was suddenly at my knee.

I had to keep this position, as he kept breathing heavily and the whites of his eyes were showing, which usually means they’re afraid or overly excited. The rest of the outride was stressful because he was obviously still charged.

When I got home, after I’d had a while to think, I remembered the movie Dreamer, where one of the major lines is, “You are a great champion. When you ran, the ground shook, the sky opened, and mere mortals parted; parted the way to victory, where you’ll meet me in the winner’s circle, and I’ll put a blanket of flowers on your back.” And I know Fire used to be a racehorse. And then I found myself feeling indescribably sorry for him, and I got tears in my eyes. Because can you imagine? Can you imagine running so that the ground shakes, the sky opens, and everyone parts before you? Can you imagine touching heaven, and then, just because you get older or injured or sick, you’re suddenly stuck in a school with inexperienced riders bouncing around on you, and you never, never get the chance to race? I think I would do what he did, too.

Horses will teach you a great deal; about themselves, yes, but also about you. You find that you have much more courage and bravery than you thought; you might find that you’re strong. Horses won’t reward you for anything you do right, but they will let you know when you do something wrong. They don’t teach by sugar coating, they teach honestly, and they don’t expect you to take anything personally. If you do, that’s your problem. Horses don’t. They are honest with you, and expect you to be honest with them. If you aren’t, believe me; they can see the real you anyway.