… from a lengthy coma.
Truth be told, I was never much of a dressage queen, even when it was the primary type of riding I did. Too chunky, too willing to settle for “good enough”, too averse to wearing white breeches or gloves.
That said, I’ve really neglected my dressage schooling this season with the boys.
My riding ring is populated by weeds of all sorts, the vibernum have grown well into the interior of the fence, and a couple of the boards have come loose from the posts, leaving the whole affair looking more like a broken down paddock than a place where any serious schooling takes place.
And frankly, there’s been little to none of that going around.
A week from tomorrow is the start of the Vermont Three Day 100 Mile CTR so I’m down to the days of simply keeping the boys loose before the ride. So today I tacked up Ned for a little “dressage schooling.”
Now, I will not claim that our dressage was inspiring. But I have to say, the old man still knows how to dance. He did his usual half-hearted refusal to get on the floor, like a man at a wedding who wishes his wife would just leave him alone. But within a few minutes, he was coming round and using his hocks and balancing himself on a curved line, finding more expression in his gaits. Ned actually LIKES dressage, I think; one can feel the joy he takes in his own graceful movement.
As Ned always does, he reminded me when I was too clumsy or too slow or too nagging with a leg. If he’s going to be Fred Astaire, he tells me in no uncertain terms, I can at least try to imitate Ginger Rogers.
And sooner than I would have imagined, we are getting it together. Transitions from walk to canter and back again, smooth changes of bend without any loss of rhythm or balance, the kind of riding that makes you exhale and sit up and think “wheeeeee!”
I kept the session to twenty minutes or so, but decided in that time that I need to trim the vibernum, restain the fence, and drag the footing, and unearth my inner dressage queen, drag her out into the light of day, and get her to help me rediscover my love of half halts and 20 meter circles.
Thanks, Ned.