Today’s lesson was focused on jumping, with three fences set up in the indoor. They were confined within a 20m circle, with a cross-pole at the 2 o’clock position and a double at the 5 and 11 o’clock positions from entering at the top of the school. I saw it set up that way earlier, so I knew it was coming! I was also pleased to know I’d be on Murphy as Guinness had just done two consecutive lessons.
I got on and despite giving me his alert face for 5mins of warm-up, Murph thought he’d try to switch off. Fail! Despite the fact I knew we were jumping, I also know how uncomfortable and staccato his action is when he’s not going forward. I therefore decided that I wanted the same quality flatwork out of him before we started jumping, and that’s what I asked for. As he’d switched off it took a lot of backing up the leg with the crop at first, but eventually I got a forward walk, which led smoothly into a forward trot and canter after that. Phyllis asked for soft transitions again today (the idea of not being able to see the aids, especially for canter) and we managed it. Subtle squeezes and my voice were enough once I’d made clear they were to be listened to – it felt great.
After some good work on both reins, we started on the cross-pole for practice. I know that Murphy tries to die out in the final strides, but also that to put your leg on or tap him then completely interferes with his movement. Any adjustments must be made before the final 3 stride point. Often a tap at 5 strides is a great way to make him listen without interfering, but I was feeling so confident in my legs and voice that I didn’t, and we got over it several times tidily from a forward canter. Given that I never see anyone else jump Murphy without consistently preventing him from cat-leaping, I was chuffed.
When it came to the double, I did the same – lots of leg and voice several strides out, and while he took the first smoothly and forward, he died out a bit and jumped much more weakly over the second. I told my RI immediately that I’d be tapping him before doing the double again, but no way was I putting my legs or crop anywhere near him in the middle of that two-stride double.
I was turning the corner as I told her this to get back on my original rein and try again. I hadn’t expected a response, but after a silence came this delighted voice, over-excited at how aware I was about how this horse goes, and how I was avoiding the mistake that even regular competition riders make of pushing their horses when they’re best left alone. So, I went over it again, concentrated and chuffed with my RI’s remarks and it was simple as peas after a reminder of who was boss. I had a forward, smooth jump from Murphy at both parts of the double.
Once it came to put the whole thing into a course, mixing fences and reins, I started to falter a bit. Murphy started to anticipate the turn into the double from the other direction. Subsequently he came off the wall almost 2m shy of where I wanted him too, and with one stride from wall to fence, I didn’t have time to correct. My balance was a little to one side, got over the 1st okay, but my imbalance and straightening him up meant that we died out completely and I got a horrible choppy jump off a tranter at the 2nd part of the double. I was so annoyed at myself, especially as some of the yard girls had peered in then. Why didn’t it happen when I was working him so well! My alarm was going off saying I had to warm down to catch the bus, so I asked if I could do the double off this more difficult rein and angle again. This time I held him and got the line I wanted. I just hadn’t pushed him enough so the 2nd part wasn’t perfect: it could have been more forward to aid smoothness, but it was in canter and I wasn’t out of sync, so that had to do. Still a bit annoyed though as one more chance and I’d have had it perfect on both reins… grrr!
I was also pleased that I kept pushing him as Murphy really seemed to be getting frustrated. He always throws his head up when you tap him on the shoulder (beats him bucking when you tap him behind the girth, especially when approaching a fence)! His throws were getting more and more animated therefore more difficult to ignore, and I honestly felt that if I asked much more he was going to throw a tantrum and try to get me off. (He’s done this before in the derby paddock, and failed entirely in unseating me, but he is capable of it). I didn’t let that stop me though: I wasn’t being unfair, and I was only pushing him more when he was giving me less. I also know that you can’t prevent a horse being moody either – if we all rode in the fear we were heading for a broncing, I’m not sure we’d ever get anything done! lol.
That’s the condensed version of the lesson – I’m sure I jumped the fences 5 times as much as I’ve reported, but that’s the main of how it went. I was pleased that my RI said it was like I’d never been away (with the lesson fiasco I haven’t jumped properly in a while), and how she really liked me on Murphy. She felt he was much more of his full potential with me on board, and with so many people failing to push him and allowing him to be lazy, it was a pleasure to see. It was certainly a pleasure to be told as much! She also said that out of all the lessons she’d taken today, I was “the ONLY” person to get all the lines right, especially into the more difficult double. Everyone else had apparently come off the walls too early, and then were trying to adjust straightness. Well, I was on a horse that I know better than to adjust before a fence, I couldn’t afford not to!
I honestly don’t see the fuss my RI makes of my lines sometimes. I see a fence and I know exactly where the ideal approach is. I see a course, and I know exactly what’s a bend, where I should dog-leg, what’s a turn. I see a jump-off, I see extra turns that’ll cut down strides, and I know which point of the course will sort the winners from the losers. It seems so basic and logical to me though that it doesn’t feel like rocket science. My RI however, seems to think it’s amazing and sings my praises like a choir on a sunny Sunday morning. I just genuinely don’t gather how more folk don’t seem to either get it, do it, or both. It seems like entirely obvious to me! The only thing I still need to get hold of is seeing strides: while it’s very often I put a horse to a fence on a bad one, I still don’t ‘see them’ per se – I just look, turn and it’s okay. I think it really requires more riding time than an hour a week to develop that though: maybe it’s something I won’t be able to get until I own my own horse. Still, it’s always exciting in riding to remember where you’ve come from and where you’re going. That’s why I started this blog after all – to comfort me in those times I really hard on myself and need to see some record of improvement!
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