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Against all expectations
This week I had another of those hit-by-a-bus days. Hard to tell what brings them on–full moons, weird weather fronts, my imagination. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t being hit by an actual bus, because I’d remember that.
I decided to go riding anyway, on the assumption that moving around would be good for me. My trainer, who is awesome, turned the lesson into a physical therapy-like session. My job–my only job–was to relax and let the horse move my hips.
Easier said than done. But one of the things I realized is that in normal lessons when I try to “feel” the horse moving, what I’m really trying to do is control that movement–almost like I’m trying to lift his hip with mine and then push his hip back down. The reverse of what should be happening, in other words.
This week’s lesson made it clear that I work way too hard while riding. I’m not using my seat as an aid; I’m using it as a sledgehammer. It’s interesting that it was easier for me to figure all this out and feel what it’s like to be correct when I was feeling so lousy, but as my trainer pointed out–I didn’t have much choice except to give in and relax.
The horse loved it, I think. He marched down the long sides in a lovely walk and as we came out of the corners we’d straighten out and he’d immediately lighten his front end. It was all very cool, and I ended the lesson more relaxed and, in a way, energetic than when I started.
Something to think about next week, for sure. Meanwhile, I’m kicking the cat out of my room tonight. She likes to sleep in the middle of the bed, and while I don’t understand how a twelve-pound cat can shove me over to the side while I’m sleeping, she manages it. It’s just a hunch, but I don’t think sleeping in the Twsited Pretzel position is helping me out here.
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