Teddy at Centerline

Sounds like a Russian novel

 Right in the middle of my lesson last week, my trainer said the most astonishing thing to me.

"I knew you would win the championship."

"What?" I said. "How did you know that?"

"The only thing between you and winning is your mind," she said casually. "You've got to get used to showing until it doesn't bother you. Why not come to the show this weekend and try again?"

My initial response was that showing the coming weekend was impossible. I hadn't had time to ruminate on another show. I hadn't improved the forward. I hadn't even ridden First Level Test 3 yet!

"Come on, someone has scratched, take their place," she coaxed.

So I found myself heading to a show Sunday morning with no idea what ride times I had or if I would show First Level 3 at all. There was too much left to chance......scary!

As I drove to the show grounds, my stomach knotted up. My stress response was not news to me. As a youngster I had a difficult time performing in front of an audience. Every time I was given the opportunity to dance, sing or act in front of a group of people, I would hyperventilate and not be able to go on stage. 

When I ran in track in middle school, I was fast enough to pick any position I wanted on a relay team. I made sure that I was the anchor, so I could run last. When I crossed the finish line, even if I helped win the race, I disappeared into the nearest building to be alone.

At age 13, I decided to try out for a cheerleader position just to see if I could do it. When I was chosen to be on the squad, I made sure that I was placed as a wrestling cheerleader. I knew that because of the nature of wrestling bouts there were no halftimes when the cheerleaders had to get up in front of the crowd and lead cheers.

As an adult, I wrote and performed a one-woman show in a Berkeley experimental theater. I was, after all, a theater major in undergraduate school. The opening night the theater was packed, I got half way though my monologue and left the stage, unexpectedly. I surprised myself with this one, I woke up several minutes later in a coffee house wondering what had happened. The audience waited 30 minutes for me to come back. I never returned and have never performed since.

When I began showing horses, I wasn't surprised by my immediate stress response. I had hoped that the symptoms would subside. What happens to me is variable. I get tense and cry. I get tense. Teddy gets tense. I can't get him forward. I get angry. The symptoms are unpleasant and no one wants to be around me when I am having a melt down.

My trainer's challenge to get over it was very mild compared to what she said to me after my first ride at the championship show. I left the arena swearing loudly that the whole show was a complete waste of time and Teddy was the worst horse ever. She very quietly but firmly told me to "Stop it or I will take you and Teddy home now."

So here are some observations from this weekend of showing. My internal monologue sounds like a Russian novel. In the warm up arena I concluded that I lacked skill, grace and coordination to ride. I should not be allowed to ride a horse. Everyone in the warm up was better qualified to ride than I. I should just commit suicide before the test and get the pain out of the way. But after several minutes, I dared to look around at the others warming up their horses and decided that there was no problem with my riding at all.

In the arena, I was sure that I could hear the judge marking my ride down. As my ride progressed, all I could see was what was wrong with the test. Teddy took a step backwards after the first halt rather than going forward to the next movement. My leg yields were not parallel to the wall. My canter did not extend enough. It piled up. I left the arena thinking we would be doing well if we got a 60 percent.

In reality, the leg yield right got us a 6 because it was "a little restricted," according to the judge. Not great, but not a disaster. The leg yield left got us a score of 7. "A little tight in the neck but even sideways," commented the judge.

I was right about the canter work. According to the judge much of it was not forward enough, but we still got a 7 in the first lengthen stride. Where we fell down was the working canter one loop. The first score was a 5 with the comment, "clearly avoids difficulty." I was actually happy with this figure because he did not fall out of the canter as I had been allowing him to do in our practice sessions.

The final comments included a "well done" written across the collective marks. I received a 7 for rider position and seat. We won the small class with a 64.7 percent for First Level Test 4. This was a qualifying score for the California Dressage Society's annual show.

Because my second ride was five minutes later, I didn't know I had done so well on the first test.

When we were finally allowed to enter the arena, I could feel that Teddy and I had lost a tremendous amount of energy. It was hot. It was after 1 pm and I had not eaten since 6 am because I was too stressed. I tried to get Teddy forward and then to bring him back, but the only way to do that seemed to be in the in the rising trot and as the First Level tests are ridden only in sitting trot this was impossible.

When the bell was rung and Teddy and I entered the arena, my worst fears were realized. I could not keep him forward. I tried a tactful whack with the whip, nothing. I tried raking him with my spurs (rollers), nothing. This was going to be a slow, plodding test, I said to myself as a dribble of sweat rolled down my face and partially obscured my vision.

So, if it was going to be slow, could I keep my cool and keep it smooth? I tried, but lost all composure when I went off course on the walk portion of the test.Crap!

Now I was sure we were moving down in the percentage points below 60. I was sure I could hear the judge giving us 2s and 3s. I tightened  my knees and hands because I was having trouble balancing in the saddle. We slowed down even more. By the time we came down the centerline for our last halt I was sure we were creeping.

But the result was far from what I had expected. Again we had received a 64.2 (a loss of a few percentage points for the error) and the comments "good horse, needs to be ridden forward. Some good work. Improve suppleness and steadiness in seat and hands to increase effectiveness of your aids."

I was astonished by the score and asked the show secretary if the judge was know to be an "easy scorer?" Her response was to say that most people felt that she was "extremely honest" and there was no "easy pass" with her. "Many people won't ride in front of her because she is so hard," the secretary said.

Well, so much for the internal monologue. Hopefully, this has given me enough feedback to still the overly critical voice and allow me to concentrate on riding.

The photos are of Artisan, a coming five-year-old Swedish Warmblood. His sire is Puritano (Westfalen) and his dam is Afrika (SWB). His damsire is Callaghan (SWB) He is ridden at Training 3 and 4 by assistant trainer Stacy Zwergel. In this show he received a 67 percent for Training 3 and a 70 percent in Training 4. He is owned by assistant trainer Erin King. He has been under saddle for one year.

Calamity Jane shows to win

The only thing you can count on at a horse show is that the experience will be different every time. At one show your horse may be low-key and relaxed; at another he might be a nut case. Let's face it, as riders we are never the same at each show either.

The Northern California Regional Adult Amateur Championship (California Dressage Society) tested my physical abilities as well as my mental toughness. It was a hot and dusty. I did not do well at the two attempts I made to move up a level. But in the end it held a huge reward and the hope that I would be able to move up in the future.

The show took place at the Santa Rosa Equestrian Center and I was looking forward to it until we arrived on the grounds. I am never comfortable in new places and the set up made my heart race. The arenas were situated looking out over open pasture land with cows grazing nearby.

Open land gets horses excited. Cows too can be a strange sight to those horses that do not live with them. The only thing that Teddy did not look at was the heavy equipment shuttling around the property. We have plenty of tractors, end loaders and bulldozers at our own barn.

The cows definitely got his attention. They appeared in their pasture just before we were to enter our first class. His head went up and we backed up. But by the time we were ready to go in, I had his attention.

This was our first try at the First Level 4 test. It went reasonably well up until the working canter at F (movement 19) where we had a few trot steps (when we should have been cantering) and then we took up the incorrect lead at the canter. We counter cantered through the next two movements. These errors cost us a lot of points and the collective marks were also low. I was disappointed, but moving up to a new level is a challenge.

By Saturday the new show ground experience was gone. Teddy was once again a solid citizen and I was focused on getting the true canter during our second test of the weekend. I had real hopes that we would do well and get a descent score. But it was not to be.

At our first canter depart (movement 12), we executed a 15 meter canter circle at A and then Teddy very smoothly exited the arena. The movement was so smooth that I did not realize we were out until the judge rang the bell.  And although I was allowed to school the movement again, I am afraid I was so angry with him that I could not get him to canter at all. It was not a pretty display and it ruined the weekend. It was a huge rider error and we were eliminated. At this point I felt more like Calamity Jane than a dressage rider.

On Sunday it was just plain hot. The temperature gauge said 90 degrees by 9 am and our ride time was not until 2 pm. I was worried about the heat. Not the most forward horse at anytime, the heat seemed to plague Teddy, slowing him even more.

On such a hot day, it is hard to know how much to warm up. I walked Teddy for 10 minutes and then asked for canter and trot. After another 10 minutes, we were definitely ready to go, but we still had 20 minutes left. Thankfully, the coolest spot at the show was the covered warm-up arena.

As we walked to the arena, Teddy's head hung low and he was reluctant to go forward. I was also tired and had begun shaking. Although the judges were allowing competitors to go without jackets, I felt it would look better if I wore my coat  -- after all it was a championship show.

We walked into the arena and I tried to forget everything. The bell rang and we were off. I was concentrating hard on riding the 'perfect test'. Teddy was listening. There were a few small mistakes, but nothing heinous. Then we were done.

When the class was called, I hoped we had done well. There were only five competitors, so I knew we would be in the ribbons. When my trainer and one of my best friends came out into the arena holding the RAAC banner, my heart leapt. Yes, despite the Calamity Jane moments, we had come out on top.

Teddy and I won the Novice Training Level 4 class with 67.4 percentage points. We also won novice high point of the championship, and we won the over age 50 high point for the entire show.

The video of my winning test was shot by Ruth Lake of Lake Web Design.

Big boy's got go

Mar'so is an eight-year-old Danish Warmblood gelding. He was imported by Northwest Dressage in 2006. He is over 17 hands and is well proportioned. He is sensitive, but not spooky. Here is his warm up and a short portion of his second level 4 test from the June 5 dressage show at Yarra Yarra Ranch. Trainer Christine Rivlin is riding. The score on this test was 67 percent. He is owned by Laurel Brown who expects to take him up through the levels in the future.

I used FlipVideo for this series and I am not happy with the quality of the image in low light and the zoom leaves something to be desired. I am currently searching for a video camera I can afford. If you have suggestions, let me know.

Arthritis can't stop her

Here is a video of my friend Nora and her Hanoverian mare Larissa.  She is warming up for her first test at second level. Warming up is very important to Nora because she has rheumatoid arthritis.  This means she tires easily, is stiff and has constant pain. She gives herself weekly injections of a biologic called Embrel to keep the symptoms and the damage of the disease at bay.
 
Nora missed a qualifying score in her second level test 4 by two points. "I picked up the wrong lead and got a four when I should have gotten an easy six or seven. I also found that with the arthritis I'm having a real problem holding onto the reins. This means I'm always fussing with them and that is one reason I picked up the wrong lead. I just ordered some new reins which will hopefully help me keep a better grip on them -- otherwise I may need to go the USEF/USDF and get an exemption for having loops in the my reins so I can hold onto them."

As the average age of dressage riders begins to rise, I wonder what type of accommodations will have to be made for those who want to continue to compete?

It's hard not to smile -- Part 2

On May 3, my trainer and friends traveled once again to Yarra Yarra Ranch for another day of competition. Teddy was very excited. Arriving at the ranch, he recognized at once where he was and started calling out to his buddies. Our horses filled a small barn that is reserved for incoming competition horses. Teddy took up his place at his stall door watching and responding to everything around him with genuine enthusiasm. I wonder if he ever slept!

It is times like this that I really enjoy horse shows. One is surrounded by friends. You are doing what you love. All this makes it very hard to get stressed out about the testing. 

Sunday morning, the day of the competition was quite cold and there was a stiff wind blowing from the west. This is perfect weather for me and Ted. He is much more forward when it is cool and breezy. And while some were having trouble with their horses in the freshening wind, I was not.

The first test, Training Level Test 3, did not go as planned. I went off course and lost points because of it. I had hoped to get better scores than the past weekend and was very disheartened. The test was filled with 6s and 5s and I had not managed to improve my freewalk, nor had I improved the "rising trot, allowing the horse to stretch forward and down." I was rattled.

I had a half an hour to relax, so I took Teddy's tack off and made sure he had hay. I walked up and down trying to relieve some of the stress I was feeling. If I can turn my mind off, things go amazingly well. My friend Nora suggested that one test did not make for a disasterous day. 

I went back to the warm-up arena and got ready for Traing Level Test 4. I felt as though I needed to ask more from Teddy, myself and to listen closely to my trainer who would read the test for me. I got into the arena and stopped worrying and simply rode the test to the best of my ability. Here is the result.

The judge's collective remarks were "nicely ridden test, must work on bending for higher marks." My trainer's critique was that Teddy was not on the bit and he was strung out. After looking at the video, I see a lot of problems, but I also see the improvements that we have made over the past year. I managed to get a 7 for rider position, which was one of my main goals. My overall score was a 67.6 percent. This is the highest score Teddy and I have ever received. Teddy and I were very glad to get back to our barn that afternoon. There was an apple for him and a nice long nap for me.

Zeus at Yarra Yarra

This past weekend I traveled with some friends and my trainer Christine Rivlin to compete at Yarra Yarra Ranch. This is a popular venue because the shows are always well run and the dressage show team is extremely helpful.

On the first page of my scrapbook is Zeus. My friend Wendy imported this gelding from Holland. He is four and this is his second show. He is ridden by assistant trainer Stacy Zwergel at Training 1 and 2. He did quite well, receiving scores of 70 and 69.3 percent. Here is his warm up. This youngster is for sale. For more information, contact Christine Rivlin.

Don't forget your bridle -- Part 1

In the past two weekends, I have traveled to two horse shows in an effort to qualify for the Regional Amateur Championships in Dressage. I've tested Teddy's ability to stand tied to a trailer in 90 degree weather (he did well) and his ability to be forward in weather too hot to move in (he was forward!). We have passed the test and garnered the scores we need to qualify for the Novice Class at Training Level 4 in dressage. We will compete in June 6-8 at the Northern California show.

We started at Hossmoor, a lovely ranch in one of the more remote regions of Contra Costa County. It is a small facility, where I found to my surprise that Teddy is very well-known. Three of us got up early and trailored our horses over to arrive for the first class at 9:30 am. After I discovered that I had forgotten Teddy's bridle at home and managed to fashion a bridle from pieces I had in the trunk of my car, I borrowed a bit and we were ready to compete. The warm-up arena was haunted by a blue heron
(the San Francisco Bay is nearby), which kept Teddy's attention the whole time. 

Compared to the high temperatures and the blazing sun outside, the Hossmoor arena is a cool oasis. It was great relief to compete where you don't have to wear your sunglasses to see the judge. 

My worst fear is that Teddy will stop dead still in a show and I will not be able to get him forward. I have dreamed about this. Over the three years that I have had him, his desire to go forward and his understanding of what I want has improved more than 100 percent. However, the night before this show, I was gripped by the fear that I would be faced with horse that would come to the "halt, salute "and never move again -- not without an inelegant kick from me.

I was able to overcome this fear by telling myself to remain relaxed and even if he was behind the leg, we would look like we had at least "tasted" relaxation during our test. I was also too tired, after being up for several hours worrying, to be tense. The collective remarks for this test were "good forward horse." I felt relieved.

The second test collective marks were also a heartening "well done" with an exclamation point. The test also contained two eights for the last "halt, salute" which was square and another at the "working canter, left lead" after the shallow serpentine. Scores for both of these tests allowed us to qualify for the regionals.

Areas of difficulty for Teddy and me lay in showing a stretch over the topline in the "free walk" and "rising trot allowing the horse forward and down." Because both of these have a double coefficient in the tests, we only managed a second place. My first goal for the next show was to at least get a six on both of these movements. My second goal was to get a seven for position and seat. I was stuck at a solid six and I thought I could do better by relaxing, making my aids as quiet as possible while still being effective. My final goal was to remember Teddy's bridle.

To be continued.......

Photo by Max.

A happy occasion

It is a very happy occasion when one of your friends is given a great honor.  When three friends are honored, it is an extraordinary event. Lyra, rider/trainer Christine Rivin-Henke, and owner Stacy (Hart) McCarthy are headed to Gladstone and the USEF Festival of Champions to compete in the Intermediaire 1 championship.  Chris's and Lyra's final score in competition was 66.961. Here are the most current rankings I could find. I've searched the Internet a little to try to give you information about the competitors.

• Jan Ebeling
• Michelle Gibson
• Melissa Jackson and Christopher Hickey
• Marie Meyers
• Michael Shondel
• Karen Pavicic
• Charlotte Bredahl Baker
• Joe Sandven

A very distinguished group. I look forward to hearing about the show and the competitors. I wish all three well, and hope they prove themselves as something special from Northern California.

Additional info on the rider line up from HorsesDaily.

Gladstone scores posted June 6 on Eurodressage.

USEF press release dated June 15 on day one of the competition.

USEF vet inspection June 14.

It is a very happy occasion when one of your friends is given a great honor.  When three friends are honored, it is an extraordinary event. Lyra, rider/trainer Christine Rivin-Henke, and owner Stacy (Hart) McCarthy are headed to Gladstone and the USEF Festival of Champions to compete in the Intermediaire 1 championship.  Chris's and Lyra's final score in competition was 66.961. Here are the most current rankings I could find. I've searched the Internet a little to try to give you information about the competitors.

• Jan Ebeling
• Michelle Gibson
• Melissa Jackson and Christopher Hickey
• Marie Meyers
• Michael Shondel
• Karen Pavicic
• Charlotte Bredahl Baker
• Joe Sandven

A very distinguished group. I look forward to hearing about the show and the competitors. I wish all three well, and hope they prove themselves as something special from Northern California.

Additional info on the rider line up from HorsesDaily.

Gladstone scores posted June 6 on Eurodressage.

USEF press release dated June 15 on day one of the competition.

USEF vet inspection June 14.

Voice lesson

"It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points (out) how the strong....stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the {woman) who is actually in the arena; ....who knows...great enthusiasm(s);.... who, at best, knows the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if (she) fails, at least fails while daring (to try)......" Teddy Roosevelt

The second dressage show of the season is the make or break show. It's when one thinks seriously about one's talent (or lack there of) and one's pocket book.

Intending to do great things in January suddenly meets the actualities of May.

May is the cruel month that can, if you are wise, bring a full stop to your winter dreams.

May is also the month that brings job cutbacks, losing one's house, ongoing menopausal body pain and oppressive heat. What to do with my "very cute hose with a lot of ability...that must be motivated to move forward?" This must be balanced with the twists of fate (and the heart).

Dressage doesn't allow for an amateur's life. It is a pass time for the professional. The rider who rides umpteen horses a day, every day. Who has the time to refine everything  -- from how you put your shoe polish on your boots; to the absolute balance of your body while a top a horse. The individual who has found a way to get paid to practice, practice, practice the movements for each test.

But I can't complain, I can be extremely happy with a ribbon and a decent score. Teddy and I were ready for this show. A show on home territory where your friends are your competitors. How bad can any loss be when you are surrounded by people you love and respect?

Again, Teddy and I are trying to stay forward at Training Level 3. This test is a challenge because the figures are so difficult. How can a double circle at "X" (the center of an oblong arena) be so difficult? Try it with a horse that seems to sink into the sand. His toes dragging deeper and deeper, all the while he is claiming he is so tired he needs Geritol to get out of bed.

At the same time, this is the horse who is too sensitive to trot past a nasty tree in one corner of the arena because it sports teradactyls ready to pounce. It's a stop-go situation and you don't want to think too much about either. You don't want to use your whip in an outrageous manner and you really can't hop off and give him the pick-me-up he says he so badly needs.

What to do? Put your hands together, smile and sub-vocalize that you will slit his throat if he doesn't behave, now! It's not legal. Not advised to vocalize out loud where the judge can hear. But I am a noisy rider that comments on every mistake made while riding. I yell, I scream, I plead, I beg -- the only way to keep me quiet is to tape my mouth shut!

Teddy and I slowly make our way through the test, all the while I am whispering threats in his ears. "If you do not canter now, you will never get another carrot in your life." He canters, but delays it to the last moment, the moment well past the letter "A." On and on, I whisper sweet nothings under my breath. We finish the test with a perfectly square halt. I was flushed with pride. There were no absolute zeros on this test. I suddenly felt effective. I had cantered and no one could stop me!

On to Training Level 4, one of the most boring tests in existence. I have done this test 12 billion times. I am tired of it and yet, I have not mastered it. We begin well. We halt square at "X." We then nail our shallow serpentine from "M" to "X" to "F." And although the canter depart is against my hand, we again get the canter. "Hurray," I whisper to Teddy. "You are actually paying attention." Then there is a string of 7s -- quality of canter, balance and smoothness during transition, quality of trot, quality of transition and walk, straightness, quality of walk, transitions to walk. A dream come true and then it all falls apart. Teddy has gone to sleep, it's been too quiet from my quarter. We are approaching the shallow serpentine from the opposite direction (who thinks these things up? A better movement, at least for Ted, would be flop down on the sofa at F and take a rest for 45 minutes!). And then the dreaded canter depart. We are moving so slowly there will be no canter depart. My heart chills when I hear myself yell, out loud, right in front of the judge --  "Go!" -- I did not swear. I could have, but I didn't.

Ted kept his cool, flicked his tail and gave me that, "I told you so" look. He was right. My mistake cost us two points.

Photo by Lake Web Design.

"It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points (out) how the strong....stumbled or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the {woman) who is actually in the arena; ....who knows...great enthusiasm(s);.... who, at best, knows the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if (she) fails, at least fails while daring (to try)......" Teddy Roosevelt

The second dressage show of the season is the make or break show. It's when one thinks seriously about one's talent (or lack there of) and one's pocket book.

Intending to do great things in January suddenly meets the actualities of May.

May is the cruel month that can, if you are wise, bring a full stop to your winter dreams.

May is also the month that brings job cutbacks, losing one's house, ongoing menopausal body pain and oppressive heat. What to do with my "very cute hose with a lot of ability...that must be motivated to move forward?" This must be balanced with the twists of fate (and the heart).

Dressage doesn't allow for an amateur's life. It is a pass time for the professional. The rider who rides umpteen horses a day, every day. Who has the time to refine everything  -- from how you put your shoe polish on your boots; to the absolute balance of your body while a top a horse. The individual who has found a way to get paid to practice, practice, practice the movements for each test.

But I can't complain, I can be extremely happy with a ribbon and a decent score. Teddy and I were ready for this show. A show on home territory where your friends are your competitors. How bad can any loss be when you are surrounded by people you love and respect?

Again, Teddy and I are trying to stay forward at Training Level 3. This test is a challenge because the figures are so difficult. How can a double circle at "X" (the center of an oblong arena) be so difficult? Try it with a horse that seems to sink into the sand. His toes dragging deeper and deeper, all the while he is claiming he is so tired he needs Geritol to get out of bed.

At the same time, this is the horse who is too sensitive to trot past a nasty tree in one corner of the arena because it sports teradactyls ready to pounce. It's a stop-go situation and you don't want to think too much about either. You don't want to use your whip in an outrageous manner and you really can't hop off and give him the pick-me-up he says he so badly needs.

What to do? Put your hands together, smile and sub-vocalize that you will slit his throat if he doesn't behave, now! It's not legal. Not advised to vocalize out loud where the judge can hear. But I am a noisy rider that comments on every mistake made while riding. I yell, I scream, I plead, I beg -- the only way to keep me quiet is to tape my mouth shut!

Teddy and I slowly make our way through the test, all the while I am whispering threats in his ears. "If you do not canter now, you will never get another carrot in your life." He canters, but delays it to the last moment, the moment well past the letter "A." On and on, I whisper sweet nothings under my breath. We finish the test with a perfectly square halt. I was flushed with pride. There were no absolute zeros on this test. I suddenly felt effective. I had cantered and no one could stop me!

On to Training Level 4, one of the most boring tests in existence. I have done this test 12 billion times. I am tired of it and yet, I have not mastered it. We begin well. We halt square at "X." We then nail our shallow serpentine from "M" to "X" to "F." And although the canter depart is against my hand, we again get the canter. "Hurray," I whisper to Teddy. "You are actually paying attention." Then there is a string of 7s -- quality of canter, balance and smoothness during transition, quality of trot, quality of transition and walk, straightness, quality of walk, transitions to walk. A dream come true and then it all falls apart. Teddy has gone to sleep, it's been too quiet from my quarter. We are approaching the shallow serpentine from the opposite direction (who thinks these things up? A better movement, at least for Ted, would be flop down on the sofa at F and take a rest for 45 minutes!). And then the dreaded canter depart. We are moving so slowly there will be no canter depart. My heart chills when I hear myself yell, out loud, right in front of the judge --  "Go!" -- I did not swear. I could have, but I didn't.

Ted kept his cool, flicked his tail and gave me that, "I told you so" look. He was right. My mistake cost us two points.

Photo by Lake Web Design.

Potrait of a loser -- Part 2

"Bad to the Bone" became my theme song. My friends shunned me. My own horse would not turn around when I came to his stable door. He wouldn't open his mouth for the bit. He sneered at me when I climbed into the saddle. I quickly went into a mental decline. I was a haunted dressage rider.

Fortunately, I work with mental health professionals who saw the problem and intervened. There was a way out. I could try relaxation therapies (something used by many athletes) and learn the latest techniques in biofeedback. I was hooked to a machine that monitored my heart. I learned to breath deep and visualize my heart glowing. I felt better. I felt like a Californian. I knew there was a rainbow at the end of my story.

I went to my first show relaxed and happy. I breathed deeply as I climbed into the saddle. I knew my tests. My horse smiled as we trotted into the arena. And then the disaster struck. My horse recognized someone on the rail. He went over to socialize taking me with him. I asked for the canter at the same time. He ignored me.

My trainer called out a ringside: "Working canter right lead at A."

Nothing, zip, zero happened. The judges score was "0". She wrote: Ignores rider's aides.

"At A, circle right 20 meters," my trainer called out.

"1" was the judge's score. She wrote: Not achieving canter (an understatement).

On we trotted.

"At C, working canter left lead" – nothing.

"Circle 20 meters" – nothing.

Finally, I threw a fit. I kicked him hard. He cantered.

"E to B half circle (at canter) 20 meters, near center line working trot."

We achieved a 7 (hallelujah!). The judge wrote: Nice canter, but more energy.(Should I feed him methamphetamine?)

The judge's comments at the bottom of the test: A nice horse which has not yet learned to understand the rider's aides for canter.

As soon as I stopped my Tourettes Syndrome, he couldn't understand me.

I got the worst score (48.333 percent) I have ever achieved, yet I was relaxed and happy -- so was my horse. He walked from the arena, towel over his shoulder headed for the showers. I breathed deeply and thought about jumping. There, maybe there was something I could win at.

Photo by Ruth Lake

"Bad to the Bone" became my theme song. My friends shunned me. My own horse would not turn around when I came to his stable door. He wouldn't open his mouth for the bit. He sneered at me when I climbed into the saddle. I quickly went into a mental decline. I was a haunted dressage rider.

Fortunately, I work with mental health professionals who saw the problem and intervened. There was a way out. I could try relaxation therapies (something used by many athletes) and learn the latest techniques in biofeedback. I was hooked to a machine that monitored my heart. I learned to breath deep and visualize my heart glowing. I felt better. I felt like a Californian. I knew there was a rainbow at the end of my story.

I went to my first show relaxed and happy. I breathed deeply as I climbed into the saddle. I knew my tests. My horse smiled as we trotted into the arena. And then the disaster struck. My horse recognized someone on the rail. He went over to socialize taking me with him. I asked for the canter at the same time. He ignored me.

My trainer called out a ringside: "Working canter right lead at A."

Nothing, zip, zero happened. The judges score was "0". She wrote: Ignores rider's aides.

"At A, circle right 20 meters," my trainer called out.

"1" was the judge's score. She wrote: Not achieving canter (an understatement).

On we trotted.

"At C, working canter left lead" – nothing.

"Circle 20 meters" – nothing.

Finally, I threw a fit. I kicked him hard. He cantered.

"E to B half circle (at canter) 20 meters, near center line working trot."

We achieved a 7 (hallelujah!). The judge wrote: Nice canter, but more energy.(Should I feed him methamphetamine?)

The judge's comments at the bottom of the test: A nice horse which has not yet learned to understand the rider's aides for canter.

As soon as I stopped my Tourettes Syndrome, he couldn't understand me.

I got the worst score (48.333 percent) I have ever achieved, yet I was relaxed and happy -- so was my horse. He walked from the arena, towel over his shoulder headed for the showers. I breathed deeply and thought about jumping. There, maybe there was something I could win at.

Photo by Ruth Lake