It’s cold outside, hardly a surprise given it’s August, however this winter has felt cold, miserable and long. Canberra is a cold place, that’s for sure, but we often start with a heavy frost, followed by glorious sunny winter days and it’s usually not very wet. This year has been so different, days and days without the sun, rain all the time and very muddy and wet. Perhaps if you hail from the UK, you might think, well that’s just winter - but we are just not used to it here. I’m not complaining about the rain, the drought and fires of 2019 and 2020 will be burned into my mind forever,I felt so despondent during that time, I wondered if it would ever rain again so I don’t complain, but I do acknowledge it makes it harder to motivate oneself to ride.
Almost every lesson I have been to this winter, has started with the same conversation.”I haven’t done much at all since last time, due to the weather!”. Everyone is in the same boat and so I’m seeing horses that have done nothing for weeks. Of course they don’t care at all, but it’s not ideal for us, as the longer a horse is out of work, often the more nervous and overwhelmed we get about bringing them back in. It seems to be directly relevant to the amount of time off too, nerves increase directly proportional to how many weeks the horse has been off.
What starts out as a little crack in the pavement you can step over, increases into a terrifying abyss, that we start backing away from at a rate of knots. How will we ever get back on? It starts to seem further and further away from the realms of possibility and all of this starts compounding into more anxiety and then more time off and the ball rolls on down the hill, gathering momentum as it goes.
Sometimes at this point, we start thinking about the possible ways we can get back to where we want to be. Do we send the horse away to a trainer? Just to get them back into work, iron out the kinks, get some miles up and then we will take them back on? Do we ask a more experienced friend, or a confident teen from pony club to jump on? Book into a clinic that might be a good place to start things back up? We’ve all had these thoughts at one time or another, myself included - probably more than people might think.
So it’s been cold, wet and miserable and there is nowhere dry to ride other than the trails and roads and we are no way confident enough to do that. So now, we’ve hit that point where even just envisaging getting on the horse turns our stomach into a swirling pit of snakes. Butterflies are a nice concept, but I tell you what, when my anxiety has a hold, it does not feel like something as pretty as butterflies! The complete overwhelm that one can feel when faced with riding a horse that has been totally loafing around in the paddock for months, can be suffocating.
So how do we bridge the gap? For me, it’s just starting to go outside with purpose and intent to interact. If you agist, it might be just making the time to go outside and get in the car to drive to your horse and commit the time for more than rugging and feeding. It’s always going to be easier to walk back inside your front door, when that blast of an icy southerly takes your breath away, but for everyone, turning up is something we can fairly easily get done.
So, I go outside with the intention of interacting with my own horses, that’s the first thing I do. No expectations on what I will achieve, just go outside and turn up. I have several horses, however two are currently out of action, so after this latest hiatus from riding after injuring my back again, I’ve decided to just focus on the other two. I decide who comes out based on which one gets to me first when they see me and if I have time, I might bring both out. I’m fortunate that I have a dry arena to work on, but if I didn’t, I would think about small things I could do every day that would lead me toward my goal.
So I’ve turned up and let’s for a moment say that I’m in the same boat as a lot of other people. The ground is saturated, there isn’t anywhere safe to groundwork or ride, it would be so easy to just say oh well, I’ll wait till it dries out. Spoiler alert - they have forecasted a La Nina for spring this year, so that may just not happen till summer. If you don’t plan to ride until summer, I guess that’s ok!
So what can I do instead? Well let’s think for a minute about the two horses I have and what’s going on with them. Both have a few little niggly things about them that I’ve always meant to address, but haven’t had the time or made them a priority. One of them isn’t great with his back feet, so that’s something I can work with, I’d really like to not have this issue with him anymore and it’s also an interaction that can get me looking for progress, gives me a focus. The other can be a little bit antsy about being tied up on his own, so I can spend time helping him to find comfort in that task, rather than anxiety.
Both are out of work, one has a saddling issue as well - I can saddle them every day, tie them for a while, maybe go for a handwalk down the road. I can work on the saddling issue with the sensitive one. What little things have you had niggling away at you that you have always just worked around? Anything you could spend this time working on every day, that you don’t need perfect riding weather or a dry surface for? Maybe write them down, so you have a clear blueprint of what little things you could work on.
I like to think of it as a commitment to interaction and try to avoid having further expectations of where it will lead. Each day that we turn up and get something done, acts like a stepping stone, or one plank of a suspension bridge that we are building across the gap. On the other side of the canyon is us on our horse, riding, smiling, doing all of the things we thought we would do when we owned a horse. On this side, we just stare over there, wondering how we get there? We build a bridge, that’s how, one plank at a time. It might seem like just catching your horse for a brush and then playing around with his feet is still a world away from riding off into the sunset, but I promise you it’s one step closer than sitting in front of the fire thinking about it.
For me the most important thing here is to remember you are far from alone. It’s easier for me to be aware of that, as I see lots of people and know directly how many of us feel this way. There is so much stigma in the horse world around the concept of being a nervous rider. Of course we can be nervous! Our primal survival system would be letting us down if it didn’t speak up and say ‘hey girl - you sure about chucking a leg over that 500kg ball of energy that hasn’t done anything for months?’ That thought process is there for a reason - to keep you safe. Sometimes it’s gets a little over protective sure, there are ways to help with that, but for the most part, acceptance that these feelings are normal goes a long way toward cutting yourself some slack.
Today I had my first ride in just on four months, post back injury and a sprained ankle. The horse I hopped on hasn't been ridden for three, but I've been commiting to interacting with him daily now for a couple of weeks. First just a little groundwork each day, then we added the saddle each day, then the bridle for a couple of days and today it just felt like the natural progression to step on. It was super successful, but a few weeks ago it felt miles away as I was in post injury protection mode and couldn't really fathom riding, especially horses that have been out of work.
For anyone riding in this boat with me right now, I say welcome! The more people you share the boat with, the more oars you have to paddle you all to shore. So chat to your friends, your fellow agistees, touch base with your coach, book a clinic (COVID pending!) and start putting together a plan, but first and foremost just turn up.
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