That personality trait is not at all conducive to dressage.
The other day, I had a lesson on Courage. He was SUPER. He let me ride. I learned so much about how little I actually know how to ride. The next time I rode, Redheadlins came out to do media. She's always happy to remind me what I need to fix in the saddle, which is priceless when you can apparently remember nothing. NOTHING. I used to be a smart person who could ride. Now I'm like... a strange lump that is stiff in weird places and can't both post and steer. RAWR EXISTENTIAL ANGST.
Anyways. If you're super bored and like watching me walk, trot, and canter in a circle, here's video.
If you don't like video, here are the highlights:
I mean. If you look at how Courage is going, he's obviously improving in general and that's great. But like. You don't have to be God's gift to riding to see that I need help.
But then I went out to our old barn and hoped on a fun fancy jump horse who looks like a teeny pony when I ride her.
The next day, I dragged a pony friend out, dropped my stirrups two holes, and tried to ride Courage like he had 5 more years of training than he really does.
This was good.
|proof I can perch in any length of stirrup|
This was less good.
See, I was kind of hoping that the difference was the saddle or the stirrup length or the sitting trot or basically anything I could fix without spending YEARS training my horse to get to that point.
Fun fact: it isn't.
A large part of the problem is that I'm still working to develop a correct seat, which (just like jumping) is the foundation for everything else. A less-large-but-still-substantial part of the problem is what my trainer keeps pointing out--Courage just isn't ready to be ridden like VA VA VOOM DRESSAGE HORSE. Even if I had that skill set right this instant, he can't handle it. Remember how we're trying to eradicate the flailing instead of make it worse? Yeah.
|one hole down from normal|
But hey. It was an interesting experiment. I learned that Courage can handle a little more pressure now than he could even a few weeks ago. I learned to be more aware of my position. I learned that I an create an existential hormone-driven crisis out of nearly any situation and I learned that the cure to most crises is still a fantastic outfit, wine, and a good night's sleep.
|it's never a bad day for argyle polos|
And you know, all those things my trainer told me in the first place.
And that's really hard for a goal-driven person to accept.