a note on progress + uncertainty

Last week I mentioned the growing pains of moving up: namely, that our mistakes and oopsie moments are amplified as the stakes get (quite literally) higher. Since it's seemingly a recurring theme, I want to address it as its own topic, rather than just as a lesson recap side note.

can't have a post without media tho, so enjoy these pics from a recent trail ride

For context, our current schooling level (low tho it may be) is uncharted territory for me. Getting back to 2'6" didn't truly constitute 'moving up' in my book - rather it was more like knocking the rust off existing skills (I showed 2'6" through college). But our lessons of today are officially beyond my ken. All shiny and brand new, ya know? Exciting with a tinge of uncertainty.

And that uncertainty is what bleeds through in many of my lesson recap posts.

Kristen suggested a leather curb strap instead of the chain... seemed like a great idea and i improvised with a sheepskin cover to test it out. verdict? mare was less reactive to the chain but the brakes still work. score!

So what is that uncertainty? Why does it exist and what does it mean?

For me, right now, the uncertainty might be about executing a challenging exercise correctly. Or whether I can develop the feel for the perfect canter.

Figuring out why it exists is the easy part. Crashing through rails, refusing fences, botching distances - that all introduces uncertainty: Can I get it right next time? Can I fix it?

this is izzy's idea of paradise

The amplification factor comes in as the complexity increases. A flat canter or a horse that's stuck behind my leg might lead to very different outcomes if the fence is 2', 2'6", 3', solid, wide, spooky, on a down hill approach, etc etc.

So all these nasty little habits that I've allowed to perpetuate and become ingrained are now suddenly impeding our progress. Letting Isabel drift off her line in the last stride or two to a fence has morphed from plain old 'sloppy riding' to a missed distance at a novice xc fence. (Which sure, a missed distance at novice might be nbd for many riders and horses out there... but it has the potential to create quite the hairy moment for us right now).

we're comin for you, bambi!

Meaning, as I manage the uncertainty in myself, I'm also thinking about the implications for Isabel. This puts us into 'trust bank' territory, a concept Nicole wrote about this spring. Basically, she defined the trust bank as the "the balance of trust between you and your horse."

Mindy from That Horse Force wrote about a similar concept, which she referred to as the 'margin of error.' Specifically, she noted that her margin of error with Leo was larger at training level than at prelim, and that a mistake at prelim could mean more disastrous outcomes.

Basically, the smaller margin of error means I have a greater responsibility to get it right as a rider to avoid crossing that line wherein the 'balance of trust' dips into the red.

seriously, you better run!! lol

But what does all this mean for me? The thing is, I generally see the uncertainty as a GOOD thing. An encouraging thing. And I see value in acknowledging it (obvi - otherwise I wouldn't be here droning on about it haha).

Lessons are challenging. They're supposed to be challenging. If it isn't hard, am I actually learning? If I already know the answers to the questions, why take the lesson? Getting the answers right or floating flawlessly over a jump feels incredible, sure - that's really a huge part of why I do all this in the first place. But that's not how I grow.

In a nutshell, I believe progress is not comfortable. That with the right attitude (as described by Lauren), bad rides can be very good things. Any opportunity to identify and fix training holes can only be positive.

sometimes the view straight up is just as good or better than looking around

That sounds kinda preachy tho... and really, when I'm circling in the arena while my trainer resets the jump I just demolished... well, maintaining that rosy outlook is admittedly pretty difficult. 

Which is just one more reason I love having this blog. Because thanks to technology and my insatiable need for documentation, I can watch this video from a rough lesson a couple weeks ago and look beyond the missed distances and knocked rails and refusal to see her canter (esp that first 10 seconds). 

And compare it to her canter in this video from a lesson last fall that I held as the standard for our 'A game' for a long time.

Or I can watch the helmet cam video from last weekend's epic xc schooling, noting Isabel's forward and balanced rhythm and game attitude.

And reminisce about one of our earliest schooling outings in this video. That was a confidence inspiring and very happy ride. Yet Isabel is an entirely different creature from what she is today.

To me, this all boils down to our mutual education. Our lessons are very often not pretty at all. Sometimes they're ugly. But they're changing our shape, changing the entire picture, really.

mare is torn between begging for more treats or booking it down to her friends and the grass

It's super easy to let bad rides or big mistakes weigh us down and sap our motivation. But I'm determined to move beyond the 'good fence / bad fence' mentality and focus on the parameters (as per DOC). What decisions am I making that work? Don't work? How did I achieve that canter, or correct that imbalance? How can I reproduce those good moments? Can I fix it?

The answer isn't always clear, but that's ok. It's just part of the process.