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We Are Flying Solo

Showing posts with label Wofford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wofford. Show all posts

August 30, 2014

Free Riding Clinics For You! A TFS Redux.

God spake to me...& I could not look upon his holy face
Ever wanted to absorb decades of experience like a little fangirl sponge from greats like Jimmy Wofford, Ian Stark, Becky Holder, or Eric Smiley?

Well, aren't you a lucky little fangirl!!  In the spirit of relaxing over the holiday weekend, for those of us who can't access FEI TV (or don't want to), I have collected, in chronological order, our hilarious spectacular performances in front of these phenomenal horse(wo)men & teachers.  I'm sure they felt just as lucky as I did.  *insert sarcasm font*

I also wanted to share with more recent readers some earlier parts of this wild journey.  I'm sure you are spending every free moment catching up on the 500+ posts since August of 2009 (where's that font again?), but in the meantime, I set the time machine in motion.  Encore & I may appear fearless & quasi-competent at times (usually when no one is looking), but those moments are built on the foundation of 1,000 stumbling blocks of trial-and-error that Solo, my un-erringly brave & accidental partner, made with me.

Have no fear, I am unoffended if you point & laugh.  I do (at myself, past AND present).
The only Olympic-quality ride Solo ever got
The Man Who Ruined Changed Solo & I For All Time (or That First Time We Met The XC Grin)
Ian Stark - Summer 2007
(Yes, I was afraid to canter my horse in an arena because he misplaced that gait.  He only had trot & gallop...except on the trail.  I'll let you guess how humbling it is after 20 years of riding, to finally have a horse & be afraid to canter it.  And yes, I did try to make an eventing legend wear my sweaty helmet.  I failed.  Then Solo nearly dumped him.  Thank cod my horse did not gain infamy as The Killer Of Ian Stark.  *horror*)

I Finally Get To Meet God
Jimmy Wofford - Fall 2008
He only whacked my horse on the ass with his baseball cap once...

Becky has not convinced Solo that dressage has merit
We Discover Eventing Mecca & I Become A Bona Fide Stalker (& My Last Clinic With Solo)
Becky Holder - Fall 2010

Ok, he can jump
The Best Christmas Present Ever & Encore's First Proper Clinic (Thanks, Mom!)
Camp Becky Holder - 10 Days of Spring Training, 2013

A Scotsman Started The Fire, An Irishman Throws A New Log In The Flame
Eric Smiley - Summer 2013

Encore's 1st Training course (Fall 2013)
Wander at will & explore the evolution!  Or save it for some rainy day entertainment.  May there be useful lessons YOU can apply next time you swing a leg over.

And not least of all, thank you to my mother, to Jim, to our amazing friend, Beth, and to the victims kind, random people I threw cameras at.  Your support made these experiences possible & each one is a treasure, both in lessons learned & the partnership forged with my horses.  Not only did these incredible teachers raise the bar on my training & riding about 47 holes, but they did so with patience, grace, generosity of spirit, humility, & humour.

For that, I consider myself lucky indeed. 

January 14, 2010

Thought For The Day

I am cleaning out my old cell phone in preparation for switching to a new one, as the buttons are about to stop working (especially the one with the "e" on it!). I found these timeless words from God, aka Jim Wofford, stored in a note from our clinic last year. I stashed them in my phone to remind myself often to keep my horse training priorities straight:

Any system which disturbs the natural tranquility of the horse is flawed.

Need I say more? Words to ponder every day...

October 5, 2009

And Then There Was The Woff

Unless you live in some kind of cave, Jim Wofford is a household name in the horse world. And in eventing-land, he is synonymous with God. Only funnier and less likely to smite.

For over a decade I had longed to ride with "The Woff," (that's right guys, it's skill, humility, & humour that make thousands of women long for you) but considered it about as likely as being recruited to the Olympic team (read: probability = zero). Until I got a flyer about a Wofford jumping clinic being held about two hours from me.

Oh yeah, baby, I pounced. That check got written so fast that the pen burned a hole through the register. And on a cool fall morning in 2008, we trailered up to the mountains for two days of immersion in The World According To Jim.

Each day started with a sit down lecture for about an hour in a room with a whiteboard where Jim drew diagrams, answered questions, and postulated his great theories on how eventing should be done. Just like his writing, it was steeped in experience, insight, humour, and a passion for the horse. I mostly sat there with a stupid look on my face, staring in awe.

Then we'd go get horses ready and move out to the understated little arena at the hosting farm.

It was freaking gorgeous.

I started out so excited -- jumping is our strong suit, so I was sure we were just going to blow Jim away with Solo's boundless heart and enthusiasm coupled with his easy going and calm demeanor. We started to warm up as Jim set up his gymnastics. Then I asked for the canter.

Then my horse vanished into thin air and was replaced by a hopping, bucking, bolting, snorting beast of an animal to whom I claimed no ownership. I was mortified. And Solo -- I mean SatanSpawn, bless his heart, was kind enough to keep it up for the entire clinic.

I dealt with it as best I could, namely, 40,000 half halts, swearing under my breath, getting left behind half the time, and perfecting the leaning circle at terminal velocity. And Jim, in his infinite patience and kindness, refrained from laughing.

Each day started with progressive gymnastics, with an emphasis on a soft, quiet rhythmic approach (which we failed, mostly dismally) and letting the horse work out problems for themselves, as they would be REQUIRED to do on a XC course, where, when the rubber hit the road, the ability of the horse to think for itself was critical!

Then we'd string a few fences together in exercises that varied each day. One of my biggest problems when jumping is that my mind tends to go blank as soon as I start a course. I walk it, I analyze it, I get all prepared, then I get on my horse, and as soon as the whistle blows, all my planning coalesces into an internal monologue like this:

Ok, canter, OMG JUMP, ahhhhh, SLOW DOWN, dammit another jump, AHHH TURN TURN TURN, OMG, no we have to jump THAT ONE!

Yeah, the picture of composure. So as we were doing several exercises, I could hear Jim calmly asking, "Where are you going? The jump is over here?" But he was able to give me some great tips on being a THINKING rider, instead of a reacting one.

Getting tips from the Master

We didn't leave out our dressage either of course -- my lovely mount, SatanSpawn, decided to practice his levade mid-lesson over a terrifying blue jump.

We worked it out in the end.

We left that weekend with a LOT to think about. Jim really changed my approach to riding and training, building on what I had learned from Ian Stark and reinforcing the fact that as riders, we really need to be thoughtful about what we are teaching our horses. A horse can learn something with as little as ONE repetition. So lessons like "you WILL be on the correct lead every time" and "you WILL have a calm, rhythmic canter before proceeding to the next jump" are ones that we are teaching (or UNteaching) every day by insisting that these things WILL occur and not proceeding until they do.

There was much much more of course, but in the interest of moving forward, I will leave you with that. Next time: Tales Of The Blue Lagoon And Confidence Lost.