So... the saga goes on. Last Friday’s lesson was a work out session, half rising trot, half sitting canter. The novelty was the horse I rode. Instead of one of the usual mares, this time I had a 17+ hand stallion. First question of the day: "Where do you keep the ladder?". All in all getting up was not that hard. After leading him to the arena (the fact that I’m leading an animal that weights almost ten times as much as me and could drag me all day long without breaking into a sweat never fails to amaze me) the instructor dropped the stirrup a couple of holes to help me climb. The horse (forgot to ask his name) fidgeted a little while I was trying to mount (I don’t blame him - considering my ridding skills). He missed stepping on my foot by an inch, which was a scary reminder to watch where my feet are in relation to his. When climbing aboard I managed to be rather graceful and smooth – you do not want your relationship with a 17h horse to start with the wrong foot by dumping yourself in the saddle 
!
We started the lesson with a bit of walking and I could immediately tell that this was not a horse commonly used in lessons. He was soooo responsive to the leg, just a brush with the heel and I could feel power surging under me. Of course, fifteen minutes with me and he was as deaf as any other school horse. I know from a reliable source that my nickname among the school horses is "Mr Loudfeet" (sorry about that guys, I’m working on it) a.k.a. "That-Lousy-B******-That-Delays-Our-Dinner-Twice-A-Week-By-Having-Lessons-At-7pm".
The initial exercise my instructor gave us was to leave the oval track the horses from the previous lessons had clearly marked and do the corners as closed as possible. The horse answered beautifully to the leg and reins, so this exercise was not much trouble. The first time we did a circle, his responsiveness and my own lack of finesse made us trample a poor safety cone (the next of kin have been notified:
"Mrs. Safety Cone,
It is with heartfelt sorrow that I must inform you of the sudden demise of your son. It died in action while holding its ground with steadfast determination against overwhelming odds. May its orange soul rest in peace.").
Trouble started with the objective of the lesson. Practising rising trot and sitting canter. I’m improving in the trot, I can now land smoothly one out of three times. The worst was the downward transitions from canter and to walk. The resulting tap-tap-tap reminded me of Heinz Ketchup commercials. The relation can seem a bit stretched, but if you consider that a certain part of the male anatomy is affectionately referred in Portuguese as "os tomates" (the tomatoes), the underlying image of the metaphor becomes painfully obvious !
Cantering went so-so. When I was able to get him to the canter with both feet still in the stirrups, keep him there for more than a few steps and get into phase with him. Then I was able to do a half decent attempt at sitting canter. At least I was not jumping all over the place, which is a lot of progress. My major problem was keeping both feet in the stirrups while asking for canter in a sitting (very loose sense) trot. I have now a better idea of what I was doing wrong, but at the time I was getting a bit sick of it. At some point I said forget it (or some other f-word) and went along with the cantering with dangling legs. After two turns grabbing mane and leaning dangerously unbalanced I knew I’d catch the express elevator to ground level if I’d kept this on (17+h horse remember?). So I decided to apologise myself to the stirrups and return to the original lesson plan.
And so we went: rising trot – sitting trot for a few steps (tap-tap) – canter – downward transition to trot (tap-tap-tap-tap) – downward transition to walk (tap-tap-tap-tap) – get the foot on the stirrup again – rising trot - ... After some time at this routine I was so tired that I would get to canter and be so confused I was unable to commandeer the appropriate muscles for the job. My brain was looking at the nerve endings and going "wait, wait ... I know this one ... to move the lower back I have to use ... this one! ... or is it this one here? ... no, I’m pretty sure this is the one! <wiggles toe> ... OK not that, what about this one over here? <jabs elbow> ... Ohh heck, I give up! Let’s walk around and just cool off.".
The lesson ended short afterwards and I lead him to his box. Taking the bridle off could have been a problem but he was a real chap and lowered his head so I could get it over his ears (I’d still be jumping up and down trying to get it off otherwise – you still remember, 17h?).
By the way, it is now official! I’m officially obsessed with horses and riding. I’m becoming a compulsive buyer of anything remotely equestrian. I long for my lessons so much that I feel tempted to get my half-chaps and jodhpurs out of the trunk just so I can feel the horse’s smell! I’ll personally commit myself to psychiatric care if I ever go to bed embracing my helmet. Someone... anyone... please help me!
Pedro Fortunato
Obsessed in Lisbon
!We started the lesson with a bit of walking and I could immediately tell that this was not a horse commonly used in lessons. He was soooo responsive to the leg, just a brush with the heel and I could feel power surging under me. Of course, fifteen minutes with me and he was as deaf as any other school horse. I know from a reliable source that my nickname among the school horses is "Mr Loudfeet" (sorry about that guys, I’m working on it) a.k.a. "That-Lousy-B******-That-Delays-Our-Dinner-Twice-A-Week-By-Having-Lessons-At-7pm"
.The initial exercise my instructor gave us was to leave the oval track the horses from the previous lessons had clearly marked and do the corners as closed as possible. The horse answered beautifully to the leg and reins, so this exercise was not much trouble. The first time we did a circle, his responsiveness and my own lack of finesse made us trample a poor safety cone (the next of kin have been notified:
"Mrs. Safety Cone,
It is with heartfelt sorrow that I must inform you of the sudden demise of your son. It died in action while holding its ground with steadfast determination against overwhelming odds. May its orange soul rest in peace.").
Trouble started with the objective of the lesson. Practising rising trot and sitting canter. I’m improving in the trot, I can now land smoothly one out of three times
. The worst was the downward transitions from canter and to walk. The resulting tap-tap-tap reminded me of Heinz Ketchup commercials. The relation can seem a bit stretched, but if you consider that a certain part of the male anatomy is affectionately referred in Portuguese as "os tomates" (the tomatoes), the underlying image of the metaphor becomes painfully obvious !Cantering went so-so. When I was able to get him to the canter with both feet still in the stirrups, keep him there for more than a few steps and get into phase with him. Then I was able to do a half decent attempt at sitting canter
. At least I was not jumping all over the place, which is a lot of progress. My major problem was keeping both feet in the stirrups while asking for canter in a sitting (very loose sense) trot. I have now a better idea of what I was doing wrong, but at the time I was getting a bit sick of it. At some point I said forget it (or some other f-word) and went along with the cantering with dangling legs. After two turns grabbing mane and leaning dangerously unbalanced I knew I’d catch the express elevator to ground level if I’d kept this on (17+h horse remember?). So I decided to apologise myself to the stirrups and return to the original lesson plan.And so we went: rising trot – sitting trot for a few steps (tap-tap) – canter – downward transition to trot (tap-tap-tap-tap) – downward transition to walk (tap-tap-tap-tap) – get the foot on the stirrup again – rising trot - ... After some time at this routine I was so tired that I would get to canter and be so confused I was unable to commandeer the appropriate muscles for the job. My brain was looking at the nerve endings and going "wait, wait ... I know this one ... to move the lower back I have to use ... this one! ... or is it this one here? ... no, I’m pretty sure this is the one! <wiggles toe> ... OK not that, what about this one over here? <jabs elbow> ... Ohh heck, I give up! Let’s walk around and just cool off.".
The lesson ended short afterwards and I lead him to his box. Taking the bridle off could have been a problem but he was a real chap and lowered his head so I could get it over his ears (I’d still be jumping up and down trying to get it off otherwise – you still remember, 17h?
).By the way, it is now official! I’m officially obsessed with horses and riding. I’m becoming a compulsive buyer of anything remotely equestrian. I long for my lessons so much that I feel tempted to get my half-chaps and jodhpurs out of the trunk just so I can feel the horse’s smell! I’ll personally commit myself to psychiatric care if I ever go to bed embracing my helmet. Someone... anyone... please help me!
Pedro Fortunato
Obsessed in Lisbon
