So you're going to have to excuse the fact that this post is probably going to err on the side of grammatically questionable and linearly confusing. I'll at least try to use spell check.
After Bobby had Monday off, I finally dug my jumping tack out of my locker where it's been sitting gathering mold in the humidity and not being used. I do this really fabulous thing where after I show I don't jump for two to three weeks, and then it's time for another show, and I start scrambling to put in one of two schools over fences the week before.
Well, I am being super proactive this time around. I still hadn't jumped for two week since our last show, but I still have three weeks until Burgundy. So on top of it! What can I say, I just really want to not be an asshole in stadium for once in my entire fucking life.
|in need of jumping pictures. instead you just get bobby being stalked by a kelpie.|
My plan for Tuesday's jump school was to move the jumps from where they were as little as possible because I am lazy as shit.
Oh, wait. I mean my plan was to set low jumps with easy approaches that could still be strung together in a bit of a course and jumped individually. I wanted to work on getting Bobby more connected while maintaining forward, and I wanted to make sure I was sitting chilly at the approach but with an active, engaged brain.
I ended up with two low (2'6"), wide (I don't know) oxers, and a pair of 2' verticals on a line on the diagonal. I warmed Bobby up really pushing for forward on the flat, but in much more of a dressage way of going than the usual strung out-ness I let him putter around in when preparing to jump.
On to the fences!
I shortened my reins about ten inches shorter than they usually are, got into a light seat with my stupid shoulders as tall and far back as I could get them, and then shortened my reins again. That way my hands were waaaaay up his neck instead of waaaay back in my fucking lap. Bobby likes to throw his head approaching jumps, and I like to play into that by flinging my hands up with him. Yesterday, with my newly shortened reins, I planted them up by my grab strap and did not allow them to move an inch on the approach.
Not surprisingly, he went much better with less interference, and I felt a lot more secure just sitting there and making sure I got off his back and off his mouth over the jump.
Things continued on in that fashion for awhile. We were totally rocking it, and I was making us go from jump to jump to jump instead of loitering about as I am wont to do. Then I added in the line across the diagonal. Bobby was not impressed with its tininess and proceeded to fling himself at a high rate of speed over both jumps.
Yeah, no. Unacceptable. I made him halt right after the first jump before picking the canter back up and jumping the second element. He caught on quickly, and when I finally legged him on to carry on to the next fence without halting he was very smart about it.
|the derp, take two|
Towards the end, I think he was starting to get a little fed up with the whole having to work ten thousand times harder than he usually does. He started taking his more collected canter to a whole new level and doing a little canter in place before bursting forth in full racehorse glory to launch himself in a deer leap over the oxers.
To re-install the forward and jumping up and out instead of just up, I kicked him into a gallop and sent him at a single vertical. The first two times he got all hot and bothered and wanted to wiggle all over the place, but the third time he got the idea and gave me a great jump. I gave him a big pat and quit the jumping there. Then we had a nice run up the hills as a reward for not completely losing his shit.
I've had an overload of dressage lately. I really like dressage, but damn can flat work be boring sometimes. Sounds like the perfect excuse to go into jumping boot camp for awhile!