Classic Horse

My Arabian taught me much about dressage...but he never did like getting his picture taken. Gotta love how he glares the camera!

The past few months of dressage riding have reinforced something I knew to be true: if you’re squishy in the middle, you have your work cut out for you.

Let me back up a few steps. I’ve been riding since, oh, well, pretty much as long as I can remember. Until my mid-20s, ‘riding’ consisted of slapping on the Western saddle, hopping on and going for a ride. No form, no lessons, no particular strategy other than having fun and making it home alive (a real concern depending on what horse I was riding). Then, in my mid-20s, I started taking riding lessons. It was a sporadic venture as I had to do it when the planets of time, opportunity, and money aligned. I opted for learning dressage so I didn’t have to un-learn my bad Western habits…and because it looked really cool. I totally underestimated the dedication and physical requirements of this discipline: it looks so easy on TV!

My first horse is an Arabian gelding. In all honesty, if we had been able to start sooner, he probably would have done reasonably well at dressage. As it was, he was in his mid teens when we were finally able to get regular lessons and, well, rather set in his ways. We learned a lot. Mostly that he stops a lot better with a double bridle and he really likes being the center of attention. We got as far as First Level when ringbone claimed his show and riding career. He’s now a very hairy pasture ornament with a knack for getting into trouble.

So, for the past couple of years, I’ve been riding whatever lesson horse was available. Once again my riding was a sporadic venture, but it was fun to learn on different horses with vastly different temperaments and abilities. Turns out, Shalom taught me a thing or two. Some of it was even good. Unfortunately, it’s hard to develop skills with irregular lessons, so this year I started the ‘horse hunt’, which culminated a couple of months ago. Enter horse number two a Danish Warmblood with lots of potential. He’s also three.

It’s been a rather, um, humbling experience. “Riding 101” comes to mind. I feel like I’m starting over completely. I have lots of bad habits, a horse with a touchy clutch and a three year old noodle-y body … and I feel like a jelly doughnut. It seems that in spite of months of Pilates and yoga, there’s not enough ‘core’ to support me and control my horse – at the same time. I suppose part of this is the downside of nearing middle age and finding jiggly bits where there weren’t any before and a body whose ‘muscle memory’ seems to be suffering from a form of Alzheimer’s…but that knowledge doesn’t make me feel any better.

In fact, it’s embarrassing being in a riding lesson having my trainer call out “Tighten your core. Stop leaning forward. He’ll stop bucking if you use less lower leg and more thigh!” … and I realize I’ve given it all I’ve got. And I’m only ten minutes into the lesson. When did this get so hard? Why do my legs start flopping when I’m concentrating on tightening my core? When did I pull that muscle in my inner thigh…?

Fortunately, my trainer is a very patient person and doesn’t seem to mind repeating herself. One day I’m going to get this! In the meantime, I’ll keep practicing…and I’ll skip the doughnuts. They make me self conscious.

I’ve often wondered what it is that attracts people to horses. Women, in particular (no offense meant to the menfolks out there, but I’m a woman, so this is from my perspective – it’s the only one I’ve got), seem especially attracted to horses. Since some of the earliest cave paintings are of horses, apparently there’s been a connection for a very long time.

I’ll say first that I have no real answers to this question, but have spent a lot of time musing the possibilities.

For many, it starts when we’re young. For me, my first memory of horses is drawing an eight-legged version – that looked more like a fat tick – and proudly handing it to my Mom to post on the ‘art door’ in our house.That was followed by being allowed to sit on a horse named Amigo that belonged to the friend of a sister. (It’s impressive that I can remember the horse’s name since I was about three at the time.)

Others meet their first tired pony at a county fair, walking in endless circles toting squealing children. Some get to pet the nose of a patient mounted police horse; a stray ‘escapee’ may wander into their yard; they may be fascinated by the colorful spectacle of a carousel; marvel at the history attached to the horse, or catch a glimpse of the competitors at an Olympic event. A lucky few are born into a horse-centric family. No matter how it occurs, a seed has been planted.

Those of us with a penchant for the equestrian seem to seek out any way to encourage that seed to grow. In all reality, it may lie dormant for years like a seed awaiting the warmth of spring, but that yearning does not go away. Why not? I mean, life … it intervenes in our best laid plans and fills our time with responsibilities and loves of all sorts, so why does that desire for all things horse remain?

I think it has to do with a relationship and a personal connection you don’t find elsewhere. Once you’ve spent time with a horse, you begin to see life a little differently.

From the ground, you find new dimensions to friendship. There’s an ear available when all you need is someone to listen. You find grooming to be dirty, relaxing, and incredibly therapeutic – for both you and the horse. You discover the value of merely spending time together. And the natural perfume of apple slobber. Many times, there is no other human around, but ‘lonely’ never crosses your mind.  Who knows what stories you share with each other in those moments? You may not even need to speak with words: the flick of an ear, the swish of a tail, the nuzzle that makes you laugh, the nicker that melts your heart. You find that no matter the problems you face, it makes no difference at all when you are with a horse: it cares not what tomorrow may bring, all that matters is your time together at that moment. How beautiful it is to NOT be judged for what you are or are not!

From its back, you discover new horizons and you learn so much. You learn new meanings to the word ‘balance’: balancing your time between the horse and family or school; being a balanced rider to help the horse carry himself properly; helping the horse develop its own sense of balance while training it to be a better athlete; and balancing a budget with horse expenses added to the mix. You learn to look out for the ‘scary things’ in life, and then may find out that they are not so scary after all. You learn that the ground is hard but his muzzle is soft. And you learn that losing your temper doesn’t solve anything. You know you will make mistakes, but you also know you will be unconditionally forgiven. You find freedom and trust.

This four-legged beast is an animal, to be sure, but over time you have discovered that it’s so much more. The seed that was planted has grown into a personal relationship different than any human relationship could be. Not better, just different. Without judgment and with much patience it’s taught you confidence in yourself, how to give of yourself, to try new things, that it’s OK to be you … and most importantly, how to be a friend.

I’m sure there are many reasons we find ourselves attracted to horses – and no doubt the ones I’ve listed speak largely to my own life’s experiences – but one thing can be said of all us all: being involved with horses is very personal.