Buzzword: Positivity – Great Witchingham 1

I’ve been away for a while, so this report is slightly late! I’ll not dwell on it for long, but the long and short of it is that I decided I’d give up being negative about my riding and myself generally for Lent, and I realised that most of what I was doing on here was pointing out all the negatives in what I was doing, just so that no one else could. I think the thinking was if I put myself down first, then there’s no room for anyone else to. Which is a really awful way to live. So I’ve taken a break, and come back resolute in that I’m not going to be down on myself.

So let’s go!

Great Witchingham – 24/3/19

The story of our second event of the season starts the day before, when I looked at the course pictures on Twitter Eventing. I thought I saw a Trakehner. That was that. I was on the floor.

I couldn’t eat, I felt wobbly, I was stammering. And I was furious at myself. Socks and I can take on Trakehners. We’re fine. So why was it getting to me so badly?

I got down the yard, and whipped out my phone to show Mia why I was in such a state. Then I looked at the pictures again. Not only was the fence I was panicking about not a Trakehner at all, it was an alternative for if I didn’t want to jump a corner.

For God’s sake, Heath. Get a grip!

After that, I felt much happier.

The next day, we arrived at Great Witchingham on a lovely sunny day, met up with a couple of friends, had a lovely chat with my old Pony Club DC who is over the moon that we’re finally jumping again (which was a lovely boost!) and walked the course. There were plenty of questions, but I like a technical course because it means I’ve got more to think about rather than just “oh please I hope Socks doesn’t stop”.

We went down to dressage in good spirits. That was, until I got there and realised I’d learnt the wrong test. Arse.

Luckily, my years of being a full time dressage diva had prepared me well for this moment, and I learnt the new test in twenty minutes and rode through it without any mistakes, coming out with a 35. Not too shabby!

Things only got better when we then showjumped clear.

Phoebe’s advice for the cross country was short and simple: “Heather, you kick like <guess the word> round that cross country.”

Heather and Socks jumping a chair fence on the cross country course — Photo courtesy of Real Time Imaging

I even managed to smile in the start box. Somehow. Off we went, and I was determined. She was not stopping at the first fence like last time. And she didn’t.

Fence four I thought she’d look at – nope, flew over it – fence five was a corner off an odd line and she has been known to decide at the last minute that she isn’t a fan of corners, but not this time! Straight over it. It was fast, it was flowing, and I was having a great time. Such a great time that I completely stuffed up my line to fence seven, a wall into trees, and we picked up some stupid penalties.

But we put it behind us almost as soon as it had happened, and off we were again – two ditches, a steep quarry and the water later and I realised we were nearly done.

Then, this happened:

Not really how I wanted to finish the round!

Coming out of the quarry over a rail, Socks saw something. I still to this day have no idea what. She went from three quarter canter to halt in no seconds flat and I ended up hanging off her side.

I was bloody well not falling off that horse.

After I finally managed to get myself back into the saddle, I got Socks over to the fence, made the correction and we popped over it on a representation. Although the fence judge hadn’t said anything, I knew we must have racked up at least two refusals but I wasn’t stopped, so on I went.

We finished, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Event two, done and dusted.

Mum jogged up to us looking grim. We’d been given three refusals at fence sixteen and we’d been eliminated.

Again, I was FURIOUS at myself. Why didn’t I think better? That was easily avoidable! I am so lucky to have everyone in TWF behind me, because without their encouragement and kind words afterwards I’d have been looking at another week of being miserable and feeling like I’d failed. Not too long after, I realised that actually, the positives far outweighed the one negative. I’d got a decent dressage score, even though I learnt the wrong test. I’d showjumped clear. We’d jumped through all the difficult parts of the cross country phase no problem, and my friends who were fence judging said that the other judges were really complimentary about our round.

All that remains now is to get that elusive double clear. Our next event is the Riding Clubs qualifier at Keysoe, also known as our second home, so I’ll be gunning for a double clear there. Let’s go!

And, just to prove a point:

Here I am, jumping Trakehners not just on Socks but Gem too. THEY. ARE. FINE!

Riding club dressage areas – highs and lows!

After last weekend, I’m all a bit confused. Back when we weren’t jumping, we used to do so much pure dressage – it was like our big, warm, comfort blanket. This year, possibly for the first time ever, I’ve spent most of the winter jumping and it feels like I’ve come back to my old friend only to find that they’ve found a new one.

I should start by saying that Mum and Gem had a fab day – Mum set herself the goal of doing areas when she first got Gem last July and even though there have been times when we thought it might not happen, she’s shoved her nerves aside and made it happen, improving on her last score by 5%. Go on Mum!!

Preparation: better late than never

With all the nervousness around the equine flu outbreak, up until the week before areas, it wasn’t looking like we were going to go at all, but when racing started up again our travel ban was lifted, and I had three days to sort my tests out. I mean, I’ve had less time to learn tests in my life, and they’re both tests I’ve ridden before, but as we all know, I don’t like rushing myself, much less Socks.

Luckily the night before areas, both Mum and I had lessons with Phil Wells, who often comes to our yard to do clinics. And I had a lightbulb moment. Unfortunately, as is often the case with my riding, lightbulb moments often entail an entire overhaul of my position, technique and entire thought process. In a nutshell, I wasn’t going to master it overnight. I realised that I needed to sit still, do less, and generally let Socks get on with it.

As it turns out, being a control freak doesn’t always help.

Off to areas

All winter, we’ve been practising taking Socks and Gem off the yard together and riding them separately without them losing the plot. We thought we’d made some progress.

For the first time, though, Gem got to go out and play first.

Socks was NOT happy.

We’ve always known that she’s a diva, a princess, and a jealous only child, but I’ve never seen her throw a strop quite like this one. She was absolutely furious. Kicking, screaming, stamping, throwing her head around. I’m sure if she’d had the space she’d have got down and rolled on the floor, stamping her feet like a toddler. That was, until we took Gem away to do her test and then aside from a few disgruntled grunts, she settled down.

It’s a good thing she’s pretty.

The next issue came when it finally was her turn, and we came to tack her up.

Some of you may have noticed that Socks always wears ear covers when she’s ridden. This started off as a way of keeping the flies out of her ears in summer. Another thing you need to know about Socks is that she’s hysterically headshy, and trying to plait her forelock is a battle of Middle Earth proportions. Now, do you see why the ear cover is such a valuable piece of equipment when we’re out competing?

We couldn’t find it anywhere.

But…

Just call me Aragorn. I won.

After making out I was trying to brain her for ten minutes, she just stood still and let me do it. I’ll take what wins I can.

After all the excitement, the competing was fairly uneventful. Our first test I thought went quite nicely – Socks stopped calling for Gem long enough to concentrate, she was lovely and relaxed over her back, and I managed to sit still and not rely on my hands. Result! I was buzzing.

A rare image of me actually sitting properly in a dressage test!

The second test was a bit more… hairy. This arena was closer to the lorry park, so Socks and Gem could now hear each other. So, Socks spent the majority of the test yelling. Even though she doesn’t throw her head in the air or anything like that, her focus wasn’t quite there and for me at the time the test just felt a bit hit and miss, with the good bits being really good and the rest being a bit meh.

We couldn’t stick around for all of the results, but we were there long enough to see that the first test only got 62%. I’ll admit, I was pretty devastated. I was so pleased that I’d kept Socks calm and implemented everything I’d learnt the night before, and I just didn’t understand why it hadn’t paid off. Later that night, I found out that our second test had placed 8th! Where had my feel gone?

Looking at the videos and pictures now, I can see that the first test just needed more collection and hind leg engagement, and although the second test felt slightly hairy, the extra energy gave Socks another level of forwardness, engagement and general pizzazz. I was just focusing on the wrong things, and although I was pleased with myself for improving what I’d wanted to, I just needed to take it a step further.

I still haven’t seen the test sheets, or found out what the score was on the second test, but that’s probably a good thing because I’ll be able to read the comments with a bit less rage! As much as I’d have loved to have ridden an overnight fix, that just doesn’t happen and now, I’ve got a better idea of what to ride for next time. Bring it on!

A role reversal

In seven years of having Socks, one thing we’ve never done together is go competing on our own… until now.

We often take ourselves off training without a buddy, but all the extra nerves and hysteria that often goes along with competition never made me thought going on our own would be a good idea – especially not jumping! But, as it happened, both bear and I stayed zen.

We were off to Keysoe, (where else!) two days after mine and Mum’s joint dressage outing for the arena eventing organised by our riding club, sticking at 80. The threat of snow hadn’t completely gone away, we didn’t have a buddy, and Socks hadn’t seen a cross country fence since Horseheath in October. It was certainly a gag-on-your-breakfast sort of morning, but I was about to find out that my horse was going to sort my life out for me!

We know that the reason Socks and I had a lot of confidence issues while I was at university was because I was a bag of nerves, tied with a nice bow of stressiness. Now I’ve decided to take a bit more control of my life and remove as much stress as I can, Socks (and me!) are much, much happier. Up until now, it’s mostly been a case of me pretending I felt confident so Socks would pick up on it, and it seems that it’s really started to rub off.

I may have been slightly jittery, but Socks was as chilled as the gin and tonic I treated myself to later. I’d booked her a stable because I was volunteering, and even when I unloaded her and led her in a completely different direction with a giant plastic (normally terrifying) blue bag filled with a haynet in one hand and a water bucket in another, she was entirely not bovved.

Actually, that’s a lie – she didn’t stay calm when she realised we were jumping. She was bouncing with excitement, bounding forward, ears pricked, and it was joyous. I needn’t have worried about her not seeing a cross country fence for so long.

I went through my usual rituals – making sure I was definitely happy with the course, having a plan, warming up on my terms, and in a role reversal, Socks’ exuberance actually bolstered my confidence.

I can’t tell you how fab it is to have gone from sitting frozen, so nervous that she might stop that I couldn’t ride properly, to having to sit deep and use half-halts because Socks is now so keen and confident she gets too flat. As we turned for the cross country phase, I went to use my whip – only I didn’t need to.

Cross country fences!! Yeeeeahhh!!

– Socks, as soon as she realised we were jumping solid fences.

She stonked round the cross country phase, clear and unstoppable. I couldn’t stop grinning! We one down in the show-jumping, and then the joker as well, but that’s down to me needing to do more to balance her. Ending up with 1.6 too fast time faults, we placed 9th.

Photo courtesy of Hoofprints – sadly one from last year as I didn’t have anyone to film for me!

I can certainly say I’m now well and truly looking forward to the event season! We’ve entered for the 80 at Poplar Park, so fingers crossed we get in…

Mother-daughter dressage!

Ever since Mum and I first became horse owners, a little over a decade ago, we’ve always wanted to go competing together with a best buddy each. This week, we finally achieved that dream!

It was a good day for accomplishing things: I needed to get started on my goal of qualifying for the Area Festivals, and, as Mum challenged herself to ride the riding club dressage areas, we were there for a dry run. Luckily, Keysoe ran the same test Mum will be riding at areas a couple of weeks before!

It was our first time taking Gem off the yard to compete but even though we knew she probably wouldn’t be bothered, Socks and Gem still haven’t quite got to grips with leaving the yard together and then separating. At home, they’ll bicker like proper sisters, but off the yard, they’re suddenly best friends…

Mine and Socks’ first test, Novice 39, just happened to be about twenty minutes before Mum’s, so we warmed up together. I was called in, but didn’t get a chance to tell Mum I was going, which was probably a good thing, because Gem didn’t notice that Socks had disappeared. At first.

Socks, of course, did notice that we’d left Mum and Gem behind, and sadly, the lovely supple, impulsive trot (with actual cadence!) melted away. It wasn’t until the second canter that Gem suddenly realised that we’d disappeared, and yelled across the indoor school. At least I learned something about Socks: she can neigh at the top of her voice, and still maintain a contact!

All things considered, I was actually quite pleased with the test – Socks did (sort of) calm down and did some nice work. Aside from the walk, where she suddenly saw a table and it was the MOST TERRIFYING THING. And then she was over it.

Oh, thoroughbreds.

We got what we came for: the test came out at 64%, so we’re halfway there for our qualifying scores!

Our elementary came later, and although we managed to perform all the right moves, it all just needs a little bit more oomph and pizzazz. We’ll work on it! I was initially disappointed with our 61%, but I had to admit to myself that it was a bit flat. And we haven’t done pure dressage since last May. Call it consistency!

Next, and more importantly, it was Mum’s turn.

She was nervous, but she wasn’t letting it get to her. Gem thought the whole experience was the most exciting thing ever, like, ever, but she didn’t bounce or buck – even when a grumpy lady cut them up in canter and refused to even look at Mum when she apologised.

(I won’t get started on that. Everyone has to start somewhere. There’s no need to be rude.)

It was certainly an experience for me – I’ve helped people warm up before, but never whilst on my horse, dodging other horses. The key was helping Mum to relax her position, mainly in her hands and shoulders, to help Gem to relax and
work in a supple rhythm.

As soon as they turned for the arena, they both visibly breathed out. I even saw Mum smile at the judge! They got through the test, made transitions in all the right places, and cantered on both reins without any mishaps or silliness. Goal: smashed!

And, Mum beat the lady who was rude to her. Result.

We’ve come a long way from having to all but bully Mum into cantering her horse. The difference in them as a partnership now they’ve passed this milestone is just fabulous, and so lovely to see. Here’s one very proud daughter!

Thinking forward and planning for success

It was our first BRC area qualifier of the year, and going on how we’ve been jumping recently, I knew I had to challenge myself. However, sure-fire way of making myself too nervous to keep a hold of the plot is to put pressure on my performance! Keysoe is, for all intents and purposes, sort of like our home ground, so being somewhere comfortable was the perfect time to push myself. As it turned out, it wasn’t just our jump rounds that I was pleased with myself for!

We arrived with enough time to walk the course before the competition started – what a luxury! – especially as, as the organisers were worried about losing the light with one hundred and three riders in my arena, there were no course walks after the class started. Luckily, I was number 55 and not 103!

Maybe it was being among lots of familiar faces, maybe it was my decent planning for once, or maybe because I helped a friend with her warm up before my round, but my nerves felt really settled. Of course I still had pre-competing jitters, but once I learnt the course it stayed in my head, and after having the luxury of Phoebe warming me up quite a lot in the past, I had a plan in the warm up arena and followed it.

She clonked this upright with all her strength, but I’ve read far too many Jilly Cooper novels to look back or celebrate before we’ve crossed the finish line.

In the outdoor arena at Keysoe, I always know that there are two big points to get Socks to get a grip of before we start: the veranda in front of the cafe and any fences with the Keysoe logo. Of course, the fence with the Keysoe logo on happened to be a full-up spread alongside the veranda.

No problem – we got into the arena, trotted up the side of the veranda, crossed around the back of the Keysoe fence, had a quick spook at the flowers at fence 7, and off we went.

All in all, it was a nice round. We chipped in a couple of strides, and took one or two out, but the only time I held my breath was over the final fence, an upright out of a double. As Socks gets more confident, the big thing is to not let her get flat. She clonked this upright with all her strength, but I’ve read far too many Jilly Cooper novels to look back or celebrate before we’ve crossed the finish line.

Miraculously, the pole had bounced up and bounced straight back into the cup, and stayed there. We’d gone clear!

As pleased as I was to get our first clear of the year, I wanted a more flowing and rhythmic round.

Yes, I know, I’m never happy.

At least now I’d achieved what I set out to do, so the pressure was off. But you know me: now I had one clear, I wanted two. And there was no reason why I couldn’t ride one.

When your horse is so confident, she jumps with her eyes closed!

Again, I rode through my warm up, everything on my own terms and with me in control. As we came in the second time, not taking any chances I took the same route as before, adding in a quick trip round the planks which everyone seemed to be having down. Same course as before, just now at 85, and off we went.

I can honestly say this is the first time I’ve truly and properly really enjoyed a jump round. I felt like we were a proper, in-sync partnership for the first time in a long time! Socks took me forward, we met everything on a good stride, and to top it off, the poles were staying up too.

Until fence six, where I merely heard the softest thump as we moved away. A quick check over my shoulder and yes, we’d had it down. Oh well. She jumped the rest of the course smoothly and clear, and overall it was a far better round!

The pole doesn’t look like it’s going to fall, does it?

Looking at the video Mum took, Socks can’t have more than breathed on it, which is irritating! But that’s just how it happens sometimes. And after the final fence in the first round, we’d probably used up all our luck. After a round that felt as good as that, I couldn’t really begrudge ourselves anything!

Practice makes perfect

For me, it’s not just the riding itself which takes the practice. It’s the preparation, and the way I behave and plan on the day which is just as important. What really went well for me this weekend happened because I put myself in control. Instead of thinking: “if x happens, I’ll have to y” or “I hope z doesn’t happen, or I’ll be in a pickle”, I had a plan for every single stride of the round. I knew how I wanted Socks to feel before every fence, how I wanted to place myself, and how I was going to avoid even having to consider any pitfalls.

This is what I need to emulate every single time I compete. That feeling of calmness, because I had control and knew what was going on, was priceless, and it really showed in mine and Socks’ best round yet. (Barring that pesky pole, but like I said I’m chalking that down to bad luck. Or a particularly strong gust of wind. Maybe?)

Now I’m more confident riding in competition, it’s time to practice my preparation and give myself the best possible chance!

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Keeping your head

We’ve taken a step and completed our first affiliated showjumping rounds! But it wasn’t without a whole lot of mental shaking…

Sadly where I am on the Herts/Beds border we’re not exactly spoiled for places to go and compete, so when Phoebe suggested trying out a new venue that was only an hour (yes, for me, only an hour is not too far away…) away from me I was all for it. Variety is the spice of life, and you don’t get anywhere sitting where you’re comfortable.

When Phoebe said she couldn’t make it, that was OK – I mean, I guess she’s allowed some time off sometimes – and Rach and I decided to put our big girl pants on and go anyway. Going showjumping without your trainer is nothing to have a meltdown about, I didn’t have a trainer to come with me when I was a teenager!

What was worth a meltdown was the frankly awful break-up I went through the day before. Nevertheless, I pitched up at Barleylands EC the next morning on possibly three hours sleep, half a bowl of porridge because I couldn’t manage the rest of it, and to top it off, since I was stressed, my Crohn’s had started to kick off as well. Awesome.

Walking the course, I started to feel helpless. No matter how many times I went through it in my head, I could’t stop the little voice that said I was going to forget it.

As far as I saw it, I had a choice – panic, and potentially get myself or my horse injured, or take a breath, get a grip and sort myself out. First stop: water bottle. There’s nothing more grounding than cold, fresh water, and while I couldn’t stomach eating anything it was the next best thing. The second thing I like to do to calm myself down and make myself breathe properly is to sing. Barleylands had music playing which I could not have been more grateful for. By the time I’d tacked up and got on, I could at least think straight.

Although the negative self talk of “she’s going to stop, and you’re going to fall off” doensn’t really happen any more, I still have twingey little nerves when I jump. Luckily, as I said last week, I am incredibly lucky to have a fab group of people around me who know this, know how to tell when I’m feeling nervous, and remind me to kick on and breathe. The other person who makes me feel better is Socks. Nowadays as soon as I get on I can feel her take me forward, her ears prick up and she starts to bounce with excitement. And I think, how can I not give her the best chance to have a fab time?

By the time my number was called, I was ready. Or so I told myself.

I took my time. Had a leisurely trot around all the fences I thought she’d look at. Kicked on. Breathed. The bell went, and off we went.

Before, when Socks looked at things, I’d freeze, she’d stop, and I’d lose the plot. This time, Socks looked at things, I kicked on, she jumped, and we carried on. Even with all the nerves and anxious thoughts, I managed to think straight and not ride like a lemon. Consequently we finished with two down where I let Socks get a bit flat through the doubles, but with a forward, confident round. Even over the water tray!

The second round was slightly more hairy. Being fair to Socks, she hadn’t really picked up on my nerves all day, but when the killer fillers moved in she got herself in a bit of a tizz. But, looking back at the video it didn’t look nearly as bad as it felt. (Story of my life.) And we completed, which was what I wanted to achieve.

Socks going by the old “if in doubt, leave a stride out”.

The fact was, this was my first competitive jump since October, in a new venue, in a slightly wobbly mindset. I can get irritated about not going clear on a day where everything is going my way – for now, I’m taking that as a clear victory over nerves and anxious thoughts. Get in!

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