Saturday, September 29, 2012

As The Twig Is Bent..



AS THE TWIG IS BENT                                                                                                                     

Originally published in
 Horse Directory, October 2012

By Tom Gumbrecht


There is a saying that states, “As the twig is bent, the tree inclines”. Put in the context of training of the horse and rider, it could be taken to mean, “A casual suggestion, helpful or hurtful, when uttered from a respected source, may affect the kind of rider he or she may ultimately become”.

In becoming an effective rider, some of the things that need to be developed are balance, stamina, independent aids, patience, and self-image.  The first qualities are obvious, but self-image? What does that have to do with riding a horse effectively?

Having begun my riding career in my mid-forties, my only experiences are as an adult rider.  As adults, there are usually a few things we’re good at: our jobs, raising children if we have them, perhaps a sport or two, maybe a special skill like gardening, sailing or home improvement. We tend to stick to the things we’re good at because… well, it’s more fun doing things we’re good at than doing things we’re not good at.  So that’s pretty much what I did until age 45 when I rode my first horse.  Then it all changed.

Those afflicted with a love of horses and riding need no explanation for what ensued; those who haven’t been won’t understand anyway. While I found that I loved being around horses and learning to ride, I also was a bit uncomfortable at being so bad at something.  I was not what one would call a “natural rider”.  As I developed my balance, strength, and seat, I found that I needed to work on something else as well… my self-image. Self-image is not so much who we are, it’s a kind of combination of who we wish to be, who we’re afraid we are, how we think others perceive us, and what we believe ourselves worthy of.  In the beginning, my self-image as a rider was fragile. An ill-placed comment could discourage me for days; a great lesson had me trotting on clouds.

Curiously, I had an image of myself as riding jumpers almost from the start. Investigating many disciplines, nothing seemed so perfectly correct in my fledgling vision of how a horse should go, than watching a horse and rider on course in a jumper round. I found myself volunteering to help set up jump courses on Friday afternoons before weekend horse shows, and taking photos of the riders and studying them.  I secretly thought my aspirations were a bit juvenile and unrealistic, like a kid wanting to be an astronaut. Still, I designed a logo with the name of the barn I was planning to build that featured a jumping horse…. before I had ever jumped a horse. I saw myself in boots and breeches long before I had the guts to wear them. While I could ride all day, I found it tiring watching other people ride… except for the jumpers.

As months and years passed and time in the saddle began accumulating, it began to seem as if my goal was not totally unrealistic. As small successes boosted my resolve, I found myself becoming more protective of the image of myself as a rider that I was fostering.  Let’s face it, riding requires a major expenditure of mental and physical effort, time, and money.  If I allow my self-image to become damaged to the level that it’s no longer fun, there’s no point. But exactly how can I protect it?

At some point in my riding, I began to develop a point of view of my own.  I developed, or more accurately, became aware of, my own standards of how a horse should be treated and trained, and how I as a student of riding and horsemanship would allow myself to be treated.  I began associating with people who shared my point of view.  I chose to train with those who took the positive aspects of my riding and used them as blocks upon which to build me up as a rider. Those who sought to focus on negatives were left to find other victims.

We all tend to act out the roles we feel have been assigned to us.  That role exists in the image we have of ourselves.  The different facets of the horse world are like a row of doors, locked so we can’t get in, but made of glass so we can see what’s on the other side.  Our self-image holds the key to the one we belong in, and that’s why I’ve grown to protect it so fiercely.

I ride jumpers.  Don’t look for my name in the LI Jumpers Hall of Fame because it won’t be there. I am not accomplished. I am not polished. I am competent.  I used to dream of flight on horseback. Now, when the whistle blows, I can go out in front of a judge on one of those courses I used to set jumps on and fly.

That wouldn’t have happened had I permitted skeptics, naysayers and contrarians to bend the twig that might have leaned the tree in a completely different direction.  I’m grateful for the knowledge, kind words and encouragement from those whom I chose to accompany me on my journey that have helped it stand tall.

                                          High on my list of positive people: Trainer Laura
                                          Ruben of Affari Horse Farms returning from longing
                                          DannyBoy as I walk the course at Hunters' Isle

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Who's The Workhorse



WHO’S THE WORKHORSE?  
                                                                   Originally published in Horse Directory, September 2012




The author and Lola training at Affari Horse Farm
 By Tom Gumbrecht

It’s generally the same question that gets asked when someone finds out that you keep horses:
“Aren’t they a lot of work?” Even though I’ve heard it a thousand times, I’m still sometimes stuck for an answer. I think of work as something that you have to do, and leisure as something you want to do.  But the dictionary says this:


Work  [wurk] noun
 Exertion or effort directed to produce or accomplish something; labor, toil.

So.. maybe horses are a lot of work, because that’s exactly what we do a lot of: directing our efforts to accomplish something.  Sometimes the comment is dismissive, as in, “I would never want to do that much work for a hobby.” But sometimes the questioner seems genuinely interested in what is involved in keeping a horse. Attempting objectivity, I will sometimes run down a typical week in my backyard barn:

Monday- Friday:                    Morning feed, care and cleaning, 6:00am- 7:00am
                                                Riding (when possible), 3:30-4:30pm    
            Afternoon feed, care and cleaning, 4:30-5:30
            Evening hay, care and cleaning, 8:00-8:45pm

Alternate Fridays:                 60 mile roundtrip to pick up feed and bedding

Saturday:                                Normal daily routine, plus:
                                                Trailer out to lessons at trainer’s facility, 8:00am – 12:00 noon
                                                Barn, paddock, trailer maintenance, 2:00pm-3:00pm

Sunday:                                   Normal daily routine, plus:
                                                Trailer out to horse park, 9:00am – 12:00 noon
                                                Barn, paddock maintenance, 2:00pm – 3:00pm

This is a typical week but can change fairly radically when we are showing, or when we have a sick or injured horse, or some major project like ring footing or barn painting. In an average week I spend close to 40 hours on the horses. In addition to my day job, which is a full time, non-horse business.

So, I guess, yes, it is a lot of work. It just doesn’t feel like it. It feels like leisure, but the dictionary says this about leisure:

Leisure [lee-zher] noun
Freedom from the demands of work or duty.

Hmmm. So, I guess it’s not a leisure activity, because it is somewhat demanding work, and there is definitely a sense of duty involved.

The thing is this:  My day job can be physically and mentally challenging.  The work is competitive, and every new bid is like interviewing for a new job. Schedules can be tight and inflexible, clients can be very demanding, and payments can be slow. That’s when it feels like work. But sometimes clients actually look forward to us coming, respect and appreciate what we do and show it, and the transaction feels less like business and more like a means of exchange of love and service to our fellow man.

That’s how my horses make me feel, all the time. I feel missed, needed, appreciated and loved. That’s why the time I invest in their care, training and performance doesn’t seem like work. That, and the scores of people I’ve met over the years who feel just the way that I do, has made mine a much richer existence.  For a long time, I didn’t really know exactly how I fit into this giant puzzle called life.  As someone else once said, “When I’m with horses, the question of where I want to be and what I want to do, has been answered.”

Perhaps we need a new word to convey that which is hard work, but at the same time fun, relaxing, rewarding and fulfilling.  What do you call someone who works hard at a job that is never done, but seems to never tire or grow weary of it, and never wants it to end.  How about just call me lucky.

The Author and DannyBoy in the dressage ring at Good Shepherd Farm