Coming out of the show world, I'm a huge proponent of cross-training for the endurance horse. It's not just about getting them fit and going down the trail: I expect my horses to be responsive to seat, leg, and rein aids, to give to the bit, the use their hind end to provide impulsion, to carry themselves comfortably, and be solid and comfortable at a walk/trot/canter.

It probably helps that I actually like doing schooling and arena work. There is something predictable and immediate about it...a mix of instant gratification (well, sometimes...) and long-term results. I'm not talking about just drilling endless circles around the ring...that's boring. I'm talking about mixing it up, incorporating things like trot poles, cones, barrels, and other brain exercises into schooling routines that help create a more supple, responsive, endurance horse.

I've been fortunate enough that all of the barns I have boarded at have been performance oriented, so I have always had access to things like cavaletti poles, jumps, cones, barrels...and arena space. Some places have had larger arenas than others...currently, I have access to about a 180'x75' sand arena, which is plenty of space to do w/t/c drills, as well as all sorts of trot pole patterns or weave cones.

Basically, the faster you want to school, the more space you need...but basic trot poles can be done at a walk in a pretty small space...and if you're just starting out, most of what you're going to do is at a walk or trot anyway.

I've pulled a lot of inspiration and schooling exercises from patterns learned during my time in the show ring. Reining and gymkhana patterns, or modified versions of parts of them, are great bending and suppling exercises.

Traffic cones and trot poles are usually the easiest things to come by, and take the least amount of room to store, so that's what I've used as my illustrations. For trot poles, I like finding the heaviest wood ones that are still manageable -- they're less likely to bounce  and roll if the horse hits them, and I've had enough occasions where a solid whack of the hoof on the pole was enough to get them to start lifting their hooves. PVC gets brittle here in the sun -- one tap of the hoof and it will shatter -- plus, they're lightweight and roll at the slightest tap, so you'll be constantly resetting poles.

It's really nice to have a helper on the ground when it comes to setting poles, but after a time or two, you'll learn what the best spacing is for poles and what your horse's stride length is most comfortable at. I don't get too worked up over having things perfectly spaced and aligned, either...because I'm also trying to teach them to pay attention to the ground and their feet, and adjust their stride accordingly, which may mean imperfectly spaced poles/uneven ground surface.

Just some (bad) illustrations of some of my favorites: (Disclaimer: My horse-schooling skills are better than my Paint drawing skills.)

So many little white pony ear shots...the only thing that changes is the scenery. Always bold and always perky.

In reading Funder's blog post about her Nevada Derby 50 ride, she had a section where she talked about sled dog racing, lead dogs, and the similarities to that and endurance. She put into words pretty much exacty what I was thinking, so with her permission, I copy it here:

As you might have guessed from the title, I have a love-hate relationship with using heart rate monitors on my horses. I will say that they have their benefits, but they also come with a full set of hair-yanking annoyances.

To start, let's discuss technical details. There are two main brands of equine Heart Rate Monitors on the market: Polar and V-Max, and two styles, either the belt or the electrodes. I have one of each brand and one of each style.

The Polar HRM I have is actually a human chest belt, the T31 transmitter, adapted for equine use with a homemade neoprene belt. They do have an actual equine belt now as well. I have an extremely basic Polar HRM watch that does nothing more than give you the heart rate reading when it's connected.

the belt style in approximately the correct position

The nice thing about the belt is that it can stay on the horse once you pull the saddle, so you don't need a handheld unit to monitor the heart rate. 

electrode style, showing the electrode that gets placed under the saddle. second electrode gets placed on the opposite side under the girth, approximately level with the elbow, in the area you would place a stethoscope. The wires attach to the transmitter, contained within the black pouch, which can then get clipped to the saddle d-rings.

The other style I own is the electrode style, this one from V-Max. This one is also very basic, although the watch displays both the heart rate and the time at the same time.

...to be a brat. Mimi's 19th birthday is coming up on Saturday, and she's still finding ways to try my patience. This morning, she didn't want to work. She wanted breakfast. We currently have access to the vacant property next door...it's basically 4 acres of fenced dirt lot. Because riding in the actual arena would have meant shooing all 10 of the other horses back out to the pasture (always a fun trick), I decided to just ride next door. Pretty fun, because it's a ton of space, and pretty good footing...if you mind the gopher holes.

But Mimi decided that today, she just didn't feel like listening to my legs. I've been making a concerted effort to retrain myself to stay out of her mouth (I have a horrible habit of grabby hands and a distinct lack of release) and force myself to rely on leg and seat cues more. It's a tough thing to do when your pony is conspiring against your best efforts. She did a fabulous "I'm ignoring you" impression as I asked her to circle away from the pasture gate...she curved away, but still managed to keep moving towards the gate.

Wrong answer, pony.

She got thumped on the side with my whole leg for her efforts.

That actually woke her up, and it only took one more decent thump (coupled with some disciplinary "eh-eh" noises and a couple cuss words) to get her actually paying attention to me. Me, unconventional trainer? Yeah, maybe.

And then we proceeded to have a pretty good workout. I kept it shorter today...I feel really bad because I was a bit too overenthusiastic in my last trim job on her...I had let her toes get way too long, so proceeded to do something of a remedial Big Trim on her.

Sometimes I think I've learned nothing in the two years I've been trimming.

So she was pretty sore for a few days afterwards.

I put her boots on today to make sure she was comfortable enough while riding, and that worked great at the walk and trot...but she was still a bit ouchy to canter. Considering her canter is sub-optimal on her best days, we didn't pursue it today. No sense in asking for trouble and discomfort.

Some days I feel like such a bad horse mommy. This isn't the first time I've done this, been overly enthusiastic in my trimming to the point of making her a bit sore. I guess it's all part of the trimming learning curve, and I'm probably taking longer to get it because I just don't trim enough horses to get comfortably schooled in it.

But considering it's now officially summer here, spending the heat of the day bent in half wedged under a horse just doesn't sound like a whole ton of fun...

Inspired by the idea of the 'Top Ten' in endurance, I'm presenting my Top Ten list of favorite equine-related, non-fiction books.

My Top Ten Favorites

(I can go ridiculously crazy with the "bit" puns...humor me.)

I've had my equine knowledge world turned on its head a little bit over the last week or so.  I got a copy of "The Level Best for Your Horse", the book Myler Bits puts out as an in-depth explanation of their different mouthpieces and how they work.

Having ridden for the last 19 years, I was feeling pretty smug and secure in my knowledge of bits and how they work, and all my tidy little theories of why they didn't work for Mimi, and what was happening when they did.

And then I read the book.  (And have been watching parts of the accompanying DVD...but it's like 85 minutes long, so haven't had the patience to sit down and watch the whole thing.)

Eye opener!

I was basing all my theories on years of riding with regular bits and what I knew about how Myler bits were different...so they weren't entirely incorrect.  But neither did they translate over into exactly how the Mylers are supposed to work effectively.

My base assumption, working with the "Levels" system Myler does: Level 1, 2, 2-3, and 3, was that lower=kinder, and therefore the "strongest" bit I own is a level 2, and I ditched the one level 2-3 I had years ago.

Turns out that one I ditched is probably the one I need now.

The whole Myler system revolves around the concept of tongue relief.  As you go up in Levels as your horse has better training, the tongue relief increases and the bit employs other pressure points for communication.  What was surprisingly to me was the Myler's opinion that few horses need to spend much time in a Level 1 bit, and most will quickly advance to not needing the tongue pressure.

That might explain why Mimi fusses at bits...virtually all of mine are Level 1.  *sigh*

Level 2 bits start to offer tongue relief, and Level 2-3 seem to be the best compromise between tongue relief and control, since you give up a little control when you start providing tongue relief.  But the theory goes that by that point, the horse is well-trained enough to listen to the other pressure points: lips, bars, poll and curb pressure, to not need the tongue pressure.

D'you see the irony in me getting rid of the Level 2-3 bit that I had?  It was the first Myler bit I bought, after years of traditional bits, and I followed the guidelines provided of what level to get based on the horse's training.  Mimi was well-trained and appeared to fit into the Level 2-3 category perfectly...what I didn't take into account was maybe I should have gotten her a lower level bit and transitioned her through the levels properly, so she could get comfortable with a bit for a change.

I don't think I'll ever try to move up to a full Level 3 bit...they're designed for "finished" horses with no control issues...and let's face it, unless you have the absolutely Most Perfect Horse on the Planet at rides who trolls along the trail with nary a murmur, at some point, especially during the always fun Ride Start, you'll probably have to take up on your reins and the horse's face for at least a modicum of control.

I don't know about you, but I've never had a truly loose-rein start.  We got to the point where we didn't have shoulder-dislocating pulling, and that was enough for me, and after a couple of miles, she'd settle into a loose rein.

So it seems that a Level 2 or 2-3 is the best compromise, especially for an endurance bit.

After having my eyes opened by reading this book (I really can't recommend it enough...if you have any interest in bits, it's worth getting), I re-evaluated my bits, Mimi, and training.  And we went back to the drawing board.  I'm using the Level One MB02 Wide Barrel Comfort Snaffle mouthpiece with the Kimberwick cheek pieces.  (Myler has a saying: "The mouthpiece is for the horse, the cheekpiece is for the rider."  I love the kimberwick and the options it gives.)  Instead of just relying on the "lip wrinkles" for fit, I pried open her lips to see where on the bars the bit was laying.  On her, a correct fit translates to barely one lip wrinkle.  I adjusted the curb chain correctly.

And in the last week, Mimi has accepted the bit.  We've done nothing but arena work, focusing on getting her to flex and bend and break at the poll.  She's stopped fussing and leaning on the bit.  She's softer and rounder and moving out.  Yesterday, I got the perfect huntseat English trot out of her...the epitome of breed standard "long, low and stretchy."  It was beautiful.

I'll wait and see if this remains a consistent thing, and if it does, I'll look into bumping her up to the level she should be at, now that I'm taking the time to do it right.

It sometimes takes me a while, but I eventually get it.  ;)

I think it's safe to say spring is here, based solely on my pony's behavior.  She was bad, bad, bad on Saturday.  Actually, I take that back.  The day started off somewhat inauspiciously when I went to collect her from the pasture and she wandered off to the far back corner.

She was actually pretty good under saddle, apart from offering the most half-a**ed, lazy canter ever.  And deliberately trying to bang my foot and/or stirrup into the railing several times.  And thinking that offering up several unasked-for flying lead changes might mean she finishes faster.

Sometimes I suspect I might have over-trained my pony, at least when it comes to anticipation and ringwork.

She was even good for working on her hooves afterwards.  After the past couple times of trimming, I've not been thrilled with her feet.  Nothing concrete I can pin down, just that they weren't quite there.  I suspect I might have been getting a bit too enthusiastic with the bar and sole removal...again.  It's a challenge, because her bars grow incredibly fast, and after her abscess a year and half ago, I'm paranoid about "stuff" getting trapped up in her sole again.

You'd think an abscess is the end of the world the way I keep going on about it.  But hey, give me a break.  That was the first abscess I've ever dealt with.

So this time, I took a very conservative, "If it can't come off with nippers and a hoof pick, it's staying in there" approach.  I also wonder too sometimes if I keep trimming her feet down to what I'm expecting they "should" be -- Little Ms. Tiny Feet -- instead of letting them grow and expand.  Because it wasn't like she had excess flare to remove, or ridiculously high heels this time.

Once again, I forgot to take pics.  Fail.

But I was happier with how they looked this time.  A couple small chunks of loose sole came out with a nudge of the hoofpick, then I rasped her walls down, paying special attention to balance (I can balance better with a rasp than with nippers, I will say that) and putting a really good roll on her edges.

We'll see what they look like in a week or so.

There's always something to be learned about this hoof trimming thing, and just about the time you think you have it figured out, the horse goes and does something to change it up on you.

But onto the "Bad Pony" part: After we were all done, we wandered out into the trail course to do some groundwork.  I figured it would be fun to let her "play": do a couple circles and hop over a low telephone pole.  She figured it would be more fun to eat.  That was Discussion One, which ended with me popping her in the butt with the end of the lead rope.

Not Happy.

Then we examined the pole.  Telephone pole, probably about a foot tall.  She could trip step over it in her sleep.  Examined it from both sides, then asked her to trot over it.  From one direction, she hopped over it twice, looking pleased with herself.

Reversed directions, trotted at it, and right at the base of it, slammed on the brakes and moved to wheel away.  She was blocked by the fence on one side and me on the other, and she's finally learned that the consequences of running into me are far greater than whatever she's trying to avoid.

So she backed up, then tried to wheel away.  Didn't get anywhere.  Made her go at it again.  Repeat.  Never mind this is something low enough for her to step over from a standstill.  Backed her away from the whole thing and asked her to circle around her.  She shook her head.  I swung the lead rope at her.  She backed up a bit, pinned her ears, then hopped up in a little baby-rear a couple of times.

Well.

This used to be her favorite trick as a defiant, attitudinal youngster......about 12 or 13 years ago.  She's a bossy, dominant mare who really hates the "submission" game.  I rarely ask for full submission, mostly because I'm much more into an active partnership type of relationship in which both of us are committed to working together, versus one in which I control every second, every footfall, every thought.  Quite frankly, I want a horse with an independent mind and ability to think for themselves and make smart decisions. ("No, you idiot, you just tried to steer us over a cliff" comes to mind...)

But I won't tolerate that kind of blatant disrespect.  When it comes right down to it, I am the herd leader and I will act on it.

So I popped her on the nose with the leadrope.  I don't advocate aiming at the head in most situations...but she's dominant enough to need an immediate I Mean Business wake-up call.  It worked: she moved away from me, did a couple of circles, then hopped over the log.

And we ended it there on a good note.

I was kind of shocked, and I think she was, too.  It's been years since we've had that big of a disciplinary blow-up and subsequent schooling session.  Guess it just goes to show that horses aren't static creatures who properly stay within the mold we try to craft them into.  And they're all capable of reverting back to temporary "Problem Child" status.

And I think we'll avoid doing too much inflammatory groundwork while it's spring and she's in a Mood.

Someone please remind me why I like mares.

Funny how some habits end up deeply ingrained.  Mimi and I have one of those, a carry-over from our show days.

When I was showing, I always wore spurs, for both English and Western.  Not because she was lazy, or because she needed "punishment," but because it was one of those little things that differentiated "work time" from "play time."  When the spurs were on, that meant "Buckle down and work."  Rail work, schooling, things that required her to be "on" and performing.  No spurs meant we could both relax and enjoy: trail riding, gymkhana, casual play days.

Her responsiveness coupled with using spurs also meant I barely had to move my legs to ask for a gait change...always a plus when it came to equitation classes.

To this day, she still does her best arena work when I slip on a pair of spurs.  We can both work without them, but why make things that much more difficult?  Especially when it comes to arena work, something neither of us particularly love anymore.

Today, I embraced the one superstition that I follow -- that whatever you do on New Year's Day is what you'll spend the rest of the year doing.  So I  listened to my favorite music while driving (which is pretty much an everyday given as it is, but whatever...), curled up with a good book, blogged, and of course...




One of the popular clinicians has a game/technique/training tool/exercise called "Cruising" that can be best summed up as putting the horse on auto-pilot.  As in, drop the reins, hang on, and let the horse go.  Only rule is that the horse has to keep going.  No reins, no controlling where they go.  Just hang on for the ride.

For a Type A control freak such as myself, doing this is akin to torture.  Not only that, but I spent my first formative year of horseback riding in a huntseat English environment, which is all about lots and lots of contact, especially rein, with the horse, and that losing that contact is a fast way for your butt and the dirt to get really familiar with each other.

Spending the last 15 years riding a pony that is not only very forward, but has also perfected the art of the "drop-n-spin" (damn Quarter Horse blood), has taught me to ride with pretty constant rein contact, so I have maybe half a second warning before she pulls a fast one.  (The theory being that where the head goes, the body follows...It hasn't always worked...)

So to challenge myself, Mimi and I went Cruising for part of our workout.  On one hand, it was kind of easy.  Mimi has extensive arena training, and would be considered to be a push-button rail pony: get her going and she just tracks along the rail, making circle after circle.  It was easy to get into a rhythm and just hang on while she motored around.  Exhilarating, actually.  Liberating.  One hand on the saddle (let's not be too daring here...'member that spin-n-drop?) one hand free.

(Watching the NFR [National Finals Rodeo] last month might also have shamed me into trying this, if the bareback and saddle bronc riders can stay on a bucking horse with one hand while the horse goes its own way.  Never mind that it's only for 8 seconds and a good many of them don't stay on...minor detail...)

On the other hand: Mimi's a pony.  Which means right about the time I start getting a bit complacent, her new favorite I-want-to-hang-out-at-the-gate-and-not-work attitude wakes up, she realizes that she can go wherever she wants to, and half a second later, she's made a sharp turn and a beeline for the gate.  Yeah, glad I was still holding onto the saddle at the point.  It didn't get her anywhere, since the only rule is that they can't stop.  We looked like a pinball machine for a bit there, bouncing around in the corner by the gate until the pony resigned herself to the fact that her antics weren't getting her anywhere.

And then I had to take up the reins again because I can only give up that kind of control for so long.  But for the remainder of the time, I was much more conscious about how much I was using the reins, and made a concerted effort to focus on lighter contact.

I've always had fairly soft, quiet hands when I ride...they're just controlling and reluctant to give up that release.  (This is another good reason to ride in a hackamore.)  I sort of hate to admit just how much I rely on my reins for control, balance and staying on...but I've had too many instances happen of where I lost my reins and then was totally sunk to be comfortable without that early-warning system that comes with constant contact.

Some days, hands-free lunge line school doesn't sound like a bad idea.

But hey, knowing a problem/weakness/area to work on is half the battle, right?

Caveat/Disclaimer/Et Cetera: I did this in a controlled environment -- a 180' x 75' sand arena surrounded by 3-rail pipe fence and closed gates.  I did this on a trustworthy, reliable, sane horse that I am familiar with.  I kept the exercise to a walk/trot for now.  It's a good trust-building exercise, and great fun for the horse.  But I would be very reluctant to try this on a young horse who isn't ready for this kind of freedom, especially at anything faster than a walk.  It could go to their heads and get them a little overexcited and overwhelmed.  No way I would try this in an open environment.  Just use common sense and good judgment when deciding whether or not you and your horse are ready to try this.

Curious about endurance?  Aarene over at Haiku Farm is doing a series of posts introducing endurance riding and covering the elements of a ride, starting with this post.  She writes really entertaining posts that are also very informative.

It's also been a good refresher course for me to go through and read these posts, preparing for the eventual day when life circumstances allow me to bring a new horse into this sport again.  When I got started in this sport, it wasn't that I was completely unaware -- I had been doing several years of NATRC at that point -- but neither did I know everything that was expected, or even what constituted a "typical" endurance ride, since the only endurance ride I had been to at that point was Tevis.  Not normal.

So I asked a few questions, did some observing, and mostly did what the person in front of me was doing and hoped they were correct.  It wasn't a complete train wreck, but that first ride was a real eye-opener, and I'm definitely glad I got the early learning curve out of the way on a seasoned, (mostly) forgiving pony.

There is so much that goes in to training a good endurance horse, and this refresher course has been a good reminder for me (not known for my patience) of why it is so important to take the time to put that base on them -- not just conditioning, but training.  Some extra time taken in the beginning saves time in the long run, and hopefully results in less retraining issues later on down the road.

(Someone remind me of this post on that "eventual day" when I'm all overly gung-ho to get whatever new equine is in my life out on trail and get competing again.)