Ticks on necks and other clues that I'm still learning

Timmy, 14.2 hands of Paint awesomeness!

The title of this post is attributed to the fact that Timmy had a tick under his chin and I didn't notice during my grooming session, but, luckily, my instructor did! She pointed out that they get them from eating the grass. Now I will be adding that to my routine.

My new instructor is J and I am p-r-e-t-t-y sure is younger than me (but by the way I awkwardly follow her around and she confidently owns at life at the barn who could tell?) and she is awesome! She asked what I'd been working on and I told her I've been really getting to know the posting trot, but that I do know how to canter (hint, hint) so we started some cantering in the lesson! She wanted me to start from a posting trot, sit for a couple beats in the corner and then get a canter going, but I was terrible at kicking hard enough to get going while bouncing around in my "sitting" trot. When I didn't get it the first try I was having even more trouble asking for a canter from the trot. I got it once in each direction and then the lesson was up.

As Deborah from My Examined Life were discussing in the Comments Section, it's one thing to understand what you're supposed to be doing as an adult, and a whole 'nother to actually do it! I recall being able to sit the trot quite well on a horse at my old barn (but just one of the horses) and this pony is proving a challenge.

In other news, I graduated from physical therapy this morning and have started the 30 Day Yoga Challenge which really eases me into yoga and I am now committed to! I get very competitive and push myself too far with running so I am trying NOT to do that with yoga (and I am limiting myself to short runs of 3 miles a couple times a week right now).

I have a lesson on Friday morning because that is my one day off before starting my new job and I'm pretty stoked to be at the barn during a quiet time. I'm also praying I can move to weekend lessons because I wont be able to do Fridays anymore with my new job (at least, not at first).

10,000 hours to being an expert? How about 350 to being a confident rider?

Me trying to remain in control when B tugs the reins!

Today is my last day with my instructor and I'm more than a little frustrated at the fact that, just as I got into a steady relationship, she's leaving! Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for her - she told me she's going south to get a steady job with a 401k...something in her late 40's that she does not have. Living your dream in the horse industry does not make it easy to have a retirement fund, it seems. As a 26 year old with a 401k bigger than my savings account (oops), I'm glad she's found a way to get what she needs!

Anyways, I needed some perspective on the slow-going of being an adult beginner. Sometimes it feels like, in these two years, I've made very little progress, partly because I've been off an on and also, I thought, because I'm not a "natural" like kids that start young get to be. So, to put it in perspective, I did a little investigative journalism to see if I was progressing so slowly after all.

The teenagers at my barn tell me they rode for about six years before competing seriously in the hunters. One jumper told me that was the same for her, and she did four years of hunters before showing in jumpers. That was after weekly lessons, a couple weeks of riding camp in the summer, and then later a weekly lesson coupled with a team lesson and practice ride (basically, going up to riding 3 times a week or more when they started doing hunters). So, six years of weekly lessons plus a week or two of summer camp annually is around 350 lessons! (And don't worry, I'm not going to calculate what that means cost-wise. None of us need that in their lives.

I guess my point is that, even for the youngsters who, I admit, I get more than a little jealous of, it takes time in the saddle to get to where they are now. I think it also seems more slow-going as an adult beginner because our instructors know we are able to focus on good technique and forming good habits rather than getting bored to easily and needing to move on to jumping when our trot isn't quite there. And when you consider what they say about 10,000 hours required to be an expert - which I by no means expect to ever be as an equestrian - I'm pretty happy with the prospect of 350 hours in the saddle to looking like I know how to get through a course.