Firn's Blog post # 12: On Independent Jumping 

I can always tell how well a lesson is going by the mobility of the Horse Mutterer while he's teaching. Not being one of those instructors that run after you yelling (I'm guilty), he prefers to find himself a comfy spot next to the arena and give you instructions as you come by. And if he trusts whoever he's teaching that's how he'll conduct the lesson. It's not to everyone's taste, but it does make for a much lower-adrenaline environment when you don't have someone screaming from the centreline every thirty seconds. Just a quiet, "At the next corner, canter, and be careful to keep your wrists straight".

Alas, this method is impossible with most of the Mutterer's students because they tend to only concentrate for about ten seconds at a time. If a lesson isn't going well, the Mutterer will resign himself to his fate and get into the middle of the arena in order to not have to shout so loudly, which is the way he teaches most people. As soon as the arms start to wave you know that he is probably going to be unimpressed with you very shortly. Once he starts to walk around the inside of the arena after you, there is major trouble and you can bet your bottom dollar on the fact that you're messing up really badly. Should he briefly leave the arena to go find a glass of water, then heaven help you because you're about to be drilled (and probably told that your horse is a saint for not throwing you off yet).

After many years of the drilling, I've reached the stage where the Mutterer is usually stationary for most of the time, a great triumph. But not this Wednesday. No, last lesson the Mutterer had decided that as Magic and I are showing more often and starting to raise the jumps, it's time to raise our standards. Which means jumping in a fluid rhythm every single time... without picking at my horse.

Halfway through, the Mutterer was already doing some arm-waving from the middle of the arena, so obviously I wasn't a lot of good at this.

Unfortunately, I'm a control freak. I know what distance I want to take off at and I want to get it my way, which is usually by taking a few shorter, collected strides right before the jump. I want /that/ magic spot and I want it exactly, so I demand that my poor horse takes teeny tiny strides to make it easier for myself. Also, I want Magic to go slow because he's a thoroughbred and therefore inclined to go fast. I want the dude to *cruise* around that course like a Western pleasure pony. After all, we train our young horses to be really calm and quiet and relaxed over fences, don't we? (Yes, I don't win a lot of jump-offs with this technique).

The Mutterer said, "Give him his head and let him accelerate at the jumps."

I said, "What?!"

Magic does not like my ideas. He doesn't like me to be in his face when he's jumping, he doesn't like to pick the slightly close distances that I like, and he doesn't like to have his rhythm changed every few strides on my whim, all of which is highly understandable. The poor soul tries very hard to do what I want, but he's not happy about it and his jumping deteriorates in direct proportion to his mood.

I got all this, but I didn't want to canter energetically at the jumps with soft hands, thanks. I wanted my tiny little safe canter and I wanted to hang onto the reins for safety. I didn't mention any of this because I should know by now that the Mutterer knows best (else I wouldn't be training with him). So I gritted my teeth, softened my hands, closed my legs gently around Magic's sides and prayed as we approached a bigger vertical, about 3'. I squished the impulse to lock my elbows as Magic lengthened his stride. And lo and behold, Magic tucked up his knees, jumped straight out of his stride and landed happily on the correct lead in a beautiful steady forward rhythm.

When you listen to your coach, good things happen. Mind blown.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how a horse trusts its human. Now it's my turn to work on how I trust my horse. Magic knows what he's doing when it comes to going over jumps and he's going to take care of me. All I have to do is be quiet and tell him I trust him. He's got this.