Compare and Despair

Back in the day, when Saturday Night Live didn’t suck, there was a skit performed by former cast member and current Minnesota Senator Al Franken called “Daily Affirmation with Stuart Smalley”. The gag was that Stuart, a very fractured persona, ran a self-help program although he was “not a licensed therapist”. This on-going skit spawned many catch phrases, some of which I still tell myself today (snickering the whole time–who knew I’d actually get self-help from a joke about self-help?).

• “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”
• “That’s just stinkin’ thinkin!”
• “You’re should-ing all over yourself.”
• “I’m a worthy human being.”
• “Compare and despair.”

This last one has become a mantra of mine for the past, oh, 20 years or so, but who’s counting. As people, and as riders, we are constantly comparing ourselves to others. Some of this is healthy–when doing a dressage test, for instance, we have to compare ourselves to the “ideal” or the “standard”, and indeed, this is how we are judged at competitions. It’s helpful for me to visualize a top rider’s form while I’m riding to help be aware of and correct my faults. (As an aside, I remember watching videos of some top female dressage rider and thinking–”It just looks like she’s sitting up there directing traffic”–another image I use to this day for my riding visualizations.)

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But too often, we also “compare and despair”. I’m quite guilty of doing this, and while I now recognize it and throw it away before it has a chance to set up residence in my brain, it wasn’t always that way. It started with my first dressage partner, Kryptonite (aka James). James may have been the coolest horse of all time. A 1/4 Clydesdale-3/4 TB, I purchased him as a 15.2 hand yearling and stopped sticking him when he was a hair over 17.0 hands at age 5 because I just didn’t want to know. He had average gaits but the most pleasant and willing disposition with the heart of a giant. He packed my arse around from the age of 3–although I had a coach, she didn’t show much–so we did schooling shows all over northern Virginia and USDF shows at Morven Park usually alone. By and large, we actually were successful, too–James and I got to tour the Dixon Oval at Dressage at Devon in the Materiale for 4 year olds, where we placed 10th out of 19 entries! Also as a 4 year old he placed 5th (out of 45 entries) in Training level at the BLMs and as a 5 year old we again placed 5th in another huge class at the GAIGs at Training, and just narrowly missed placing at First level, but with a respectable 64+%. I could go on and on about James (just ask me!), but it was that near miss at First level at the GAIGs in 2005 that made me realize that by succumbing to “compare and despair” we really do ourselves, and our horses, a disservice and have vowed to not do it again.

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For all James’ finer points (he never spooked, always tried his best, needed little pre-test schooling, was even and straight and never missed a square halt…), all I could do as I rode around the warm-up was look at all the other horses in my class. I was surrounded by one fancy horse after another–they were all beautiful with big lofty trots and likely big lofty price tags. I began to doubt myself and James and decided we were out-classed before we even got to the ring. So despite qualifying like every other person there, I could only see what we were not and I did not go in there and ride my test like I had all season. As a result, I made two huge mistakes (a jig in the walk and a break in one counter-canter loop–both coefficients and neither of which we had ever done before) in the test. Imagine my devastation when I saw my good score of 64+% just barely putting us in 9th place, landing overall in the middle of the pack. I had “compared and despaired” myself right out of the ribbons. I literally walked back to my stall and cried into James’ neck (I was also 12 weeks pregnant, so I cried a lot anyway ) apologizing profusely to him for letting us both down by doubting he was worthy.

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No matter who you are, there will always be a “fancier” horse than yours. There will always be someone who is a better rider. There will always be someone with more money to train than you. But, “compare and despair”! If you only see what you “lack” compared to those you perceive as better, you will miss all the wonderful things you DO have. We need to ride our horses competing against the dressage standard, striving to do the best we can to match it, and not worry what the other horses are doing.

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After all, that DQ with the fancy horse is bound to have an off day!

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The meaning of success

It’s been a big week or so for Bravo. In the last 10 days we did a recognized USDF show, then a dental “power float” on Monday, and today (Sunday) we were back in the sandbox–this time at a schooling show at Susie Wiedman’s Encore Sporthorse in Sanford to benefit the Misty Creek Ranch tornado disaster.

Bravo is not a big spook-er, and for this I am grateful. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t get affected by the stuff around him–in fact he gets quite anxious and internalizes it. When I was working with local natural horsemanship guru Linda Hoover, she described Bravo as “wearing it”. The problem with this is that you can only “wear” your anxiety for so long before it gets to you, and in B’s case this usually involves wheeling and bucking back to safety. With this in mind, at the USDF shows I always take gobs of time letting him settle in (with varying success–unfortunately sometimes it’s all good until I start applying the pressure of a warm up before he decides leaving Dodge is his best option). At schooling shows, you don’t get as much time, but the experience is no less useful. We arrived today about an hour and a half before my test, which proved to be plenty! I have discovered that part of the key is letting him look about, on the buckle, for a good 10-15 minutes. It’s no pressure on my part, he can put his head up like a giraffe and gaze at everything (usually he is mesmerized by other horses in the distance, as though he’s never seen one of these fantastic 4-legged creatures before in his life!) with no agenda from me other than we keep moving.

After he had his share of being a looky-loo, we had an easy, confrontation free warm up–first in the warm up ring, then in the grass right next to the covered (competition) ring. He was not as supple as his usual, but in it’s place he was super rideable (ah, to get all the pieces at one time–it’s so elusive!). Unfortunately, the footing in the indoor is nearly polar opposite to the home turf, and while it was soft and inviting, we felt a bit like we were swimming compared to the firmness we’re used to for our daily rides (amazing how much difference various footings make–particularly when you are “used to” a particular type). Regardless, there were some highlights in our Second level Test 3 ride: the walk pirouettes were BOTH active and correct, the free walk included the heretofore missing stretching out and down with the neck, and every piece of the test was performed precisely where and when I asked.

We finished with a respectable 65.9+%, winning our class and the series championship! (OK, full disclosure–we were the only Second level test of the day AND of the whole series of 3 shows, so all I had to do was stay in the ring to triumph. )

But fancy ribbons and Encore Sporthorse swag-winnings aside, the real accomplishment was just being there–more time in the tack, more positive experiences in the “bank”, and another test at a new location under the belt with no histrionics. The bonus is getting to see all the friendly faces–mostly “old” and a few new–enjoying themselves and their horses as well!

Climbing out of the “Pit of Despair”

“the pit of despair”: idiom/USDF R judge Jan Jacobson (2007); referring to Second Level

My last USDF show didn’t go exactly according to plan. I’ve been working really hard this winter–training, schooling shows, etc.–but I was a little nervous that I could have another tragic weekend of competition. Not only did I still feel demoralized by how poorly I had ridden in Williamston last November, but my last attempts at Second Level (with James and Graham) led to the coinage of the above phrase by Jan Jacobson, which I still use to this day.

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I am happy to report that the demons in my head did not defeat me, and the show was a HUGE success for Team Aloi.

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Anne and Doc Holliday had great scores for super rides in the Developing Horse test Friday and Saturday, and the Chyro-saurus was brilliant.

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Keni got her remaining Silver Medal score at PSG on Friday (with a spare on Sunday) with Princess Snarky Pants.

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Bravo was 3 totally different horses on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday which is always a challenge for executing an effective warm-up. I can say in all seriousness that without Anne, I’m not sure my end result would have been the same (Thanks Anne!). Thursday started out with the drama of a lost shoe. Of course, I did not DISCOVER said missing shoe until I was tacking up in Pinehurst (and I always look at B’s feet when I bring him in from the field, so apparently I am partially blind). The farrier on call was unavailable until Friday morning, so luckily I had an Easy boot in the trailer and we soldiered on, largely unfettered. I lunged for a bit, then rode in the warm up ring near the barn without incident. Once I moved to the other side of the field to the competition rings, however, the story changed and there were a few tantrums. The bad news is the tantrums still exist, but the good news is they are so much reduced in intensity. We finished up and I felt really optimistic.

Armed with a newly placed shoe, I had 2 tests on Friday and Bravo was hot as mustard. Bravo is not normally a lazy horse, but I would not characterize him as “spicy” in general. Having a horse that would like to wheel and gallop back to the barn AND is twitching like a cat had me honestly a bit unnerved. Anne schooled me before the first test and had a few profound observations. My favorite new saying of her’s is: “If he’s going to run back to the barn with you, he should at least do it in a 3-beat canter instead of this fractured 5-beat thing you’re doing now.” Point taken! (Although in my defense it does take some digging deep to give the hand 2 inches and kick on when my horse is threatening to leave the county with or without me.) She offered that Bravo has plenty of “up” and so we needed to focus on the “out” to lengthen the neck along with several other “pearls” to digest. The second warm up was even more challenging because we had been caught in the rain, forced to retire to the barn for a 1.5 hour rain delay, and then return with a less-than-ideal amount of time to get ready for the second test. Anne came out and asked how it was going. My answer was “Shit.”, followed by “I’m gonna scratch.” as we skittered sideways squealing and hopping. Anne would have none of that, and put us back to work exactly as in the morning. I’m pleased to report that I won both tests, with 64+% and 68+%.  Bravo was hot in the tests too, but on the aids, and in particular the second test (Second Level test 3) felt pretty effortless.

Saturday was a different story. I did a quick lunge to let out the morning bucks, and could tell immediately upon mounting that I was in big trouble. I felt like I was riding a teenaged plow horse with legs made of lead. Seriously–from hot head to dead head in less than 24 hours? Ugh. He was perfectly behaved in the warm up, but ultimately was a fraction behind the leg for most of my test. OF COURSE this was the sweepstakes class for money, although our effort landed us in second place (with a payout coincidentally about equal to my retail therapy/new breeches!).

Today I had the best of both worlds–I skipped the lunging, and Bravo was just a teensy bit on edge out in the field. Anne headed back to Virginia first thing, so I replayed the tape of my previous 3 warm ups to the best of my ability. Bravo was right on the aids–quick to the leg, but super-responsive to the half halt. This Second Level test 3 had a few minor pilot errors, so didn’t have quite the flow of the one on Friday, but still garnered a 67+% for the AA Dover Medal to finish our weekend. Apropos, the judge was Jan Jacobson!

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There is also just a tiny amount of fun to be had when the ponies are all tucked away for the night, and with our successes all weekend, we had a lot to celebrate. Couple that with stabling with Team Marley (Hey, gurl!) and you have the ingredients for some serious partying! Three nights, five gallons of margaritas, eight bottles of champagne, and two full moons later, a good time was had by all.