How I Nailed Down My Confidence

I've ridden pleasure horses all my life and we've had horses for over ten years.  Yet from my first fall at age five, I've always had to deal with confidence issues, more so now that I'm older. 

Champ was our daughter's Performance Horse.  He was never an easy horse for her but she was an advanced rider and with the help of trainers, she achieved positive results with him.  When she gave up riding and headed off to college, my family encouraged me to step in and call Champ mine, knowing it was a dream I'd always had to ride such a horse.  I recall not being sure about taking on this task and their assuring me that I was a better rider then I thought I was.

Still boarded where she'd ridden him, I signed up for lessons to learn how to ride 'correctly'.  As I planned for an early retirement, I had dreams of spending my days with Champ, becoming his best friend, going to shows and experimenting with other disciplines of riding.

I'd been used to 'loving' my horses.  But I found that if I tried to give Champ any "love" his behavior escalated totally out of control.  He was definitely a give an inch take a mile guy.  He greeted me with flattened ears and bared teeth when I'd approach his stall.  Entering his stall, he'd charge me or try to flatten me against a wall.

I couldn't engage in any conversation around me when I had Champ out of his stall.  If I talked at all, Champ's behavior would became worse to the point I could barely control him.  My barn pals learned to not talk to me and I endured silence to ensure his behavior wouldn't escalate.

Hand feeding Champ created an even worse monster.  As a result, I posted a sign on his stall that said (and still says), "Please Do Not Hand Feed".  But well-intended individuals at the barn would still slip Champ treats.  I could always tell when I arrived if Champ had been hand fed.  He had no focus but being aggressive.  He'd hang his head out his stall door as far as he could and try to bite anybody who walked by.  Well-intended individuals soon learned better after encountering Champ's snake-like behavior.

Yet I rode him through the spring/summer and fall.  I achieved my dream of showing in October and had a great time.  But I had to literally tip-toe around him to ensure I had good behavior.  As winter and cold weather came, our relationship went totally sideways.  My rides became so bad that I felt in danger when I was on him and in late-November I stayed off, using the "holiday season" as an excuse to not ride.

My breaking point came in early January.  After staying off for five weeks, and now being retired, I went to take my lesson and stood in tears next to Champ as I told my trainer that I was too terrified to get on.  I cried so hard, mourning all my lost confidence, the good rides, the lope I'd started to achieve and the relationship (I thought) I'd made with this horse.

My trainer must have been as frustrated with me as I was with me.  She suggested I sell Champ, telling me that he was the kind of horse where one would never know what they have until they got on.   I told her my family was totally against the idea of selling him; I'd already brought up the subject.  So either I dealt with this behavior or turned Champ out to pasture.  Having lost my older riding horse at home a few weeks earlier to Colic, sending Champ home left me with no horse to ride.

My trainer told me that I then needed to accept what I have and commit to taking steps to 'fix' the problem.  She really laid it on the line.  She told me flat out that if I was going to keep riding with her, keep riding at all, that I needed to introduce ground work to Champ and my relationship.  She warned me that it would take full commitment on my part and the road wouldn't be easy.  She expected to see me at the barn every (and she stressed that word) day, working with Champ.  I asked her if she could give me some pointers on ground work and she agreed, but only if I'd be present and utilize what I learned.  I nodded my head and agreed to the "contract".

A fellow barn pal asked me if I'd like to get in on an order for rope halters from Clinton Anderson.  I'd already been following a monthly article in a magazine on his work with a person who had some of the same issues I did.  I ordered the halter and found the knots across the nose made a difference when I worked with Champ.  He was so out of tune that initially they cut his face but the halter soon set a tone when I put it on him and he gave it great respect.

I had a stick at home.  I brought it to the barn and carried it with me every time I was around Champ.  If it wasn't for that stick I don't think I'd be here.  In our earlier days of ground work, Champ would turn on me and with ears pinned and teeth bared, he'd charge me at a full gallop.  I'd swing my stick from left for right in front of me.  There were plenty of times I thought he'd run me over but I stood my ground and he'd turn at the last minute.  I then knew (and he did too) that I'd won that round.

I spent every one of my newly retired days with Champ, following the articles in the magazine, referring to old ones, using my lessons and pointers from my trainer.  Yes, I had extra time to work with Champ but I'd estimate that once I got my ground work routine down and Champ's behavior started to come around, it only took me an hour or so each day.  Even though I didn't ride, the ground work and positive results it provided gave me confidence.

About 3 weeks later I felt ready to climb back up on Champ (after we completed our daily ground work).  I had the most incredible ride and from there they got better and better.

About 5 or 6 weeks into ground work I learned the lesson that nails down my confidence every time I ride:  Knowing what I have before I climb on.  Both Champ and I were now comfortable with our ground work and I was able to judge from the licking and chewing, lowered head and overall demeanor, when it was ok to call it quits and ride.

Sure I didn't know 100 percent what I was going to get.  Initially, when my confidence level was still low, I'd see the above-mentioned signals but I'd work Champ longer.  Many times he was a sweating mess before I'd call it quits to ride.  Interesting that on those days, he was so tired from the ground work that he was obviously relieved when I went to ride him.

I can only describe that like building blocks, the ground work and each ride got better and better to where I am today.  Champ and I will be going to meet cows this Thursday and give a hand at sorting.  Something I'd never have considered before.

Ground work now comes before riding, and it always will.  I nailed my high level of confidence down tight with my mantra of knowing what I have before I climb on, using ground work as the tool to determine when we're ready.

Champ is a different horse.  As soon as he hears my voice in the barn, he's at his stall door with ears pricked.  Entering his stall, he makes room for me and waits patiently for my next move.  I can visit and chat with my pal's as Champ stands patiently in the cross-ties.  Walking to the arena, indoor or out, he walks at my shoulder and stops when I stop, backing a few steps. 

Yes, we still have some issues but nothing that challenges my confidence or that I can't accept.  Champ is an inquisitive horse and always will be.  I haven't figured out if he's too intelligent or not intelligent enough, but either way it's maxed out on that side of the bar.  He's normally lazy and I have to get his motor engaged when we work at the lope, etc. 

He gives me "try" these days and it thrills me when he's consumed in listening to me and trying to do what I'm asking.  He accepts correction when he's wrong, as if he knows it!  Yet he gets grumpy when he's corrected and it's the rider's fault, not his.

Today I'm a rider for all seasons, not just a few.  I no longer dread going to ride, but look forward to my time with Champ and the fun it brings us.  I received the highest compliment recently when my husband told me, "You've become the rider you always wanted to be." 

I owe my thanks ground work.  It helped me nail down my confidence tightly and achieve the special relationship Champ and I now share.