I trotted Rudy independently for the first time in fifteen months. Most people in the horse world would not consider this noteworthy or impressive, but I was over the moon!
If you regularly read my blogs, you know I fell off a trail horse in 2021 while on vacation in Vermont. It was a big "T" traumatic event for me. I was trapped under the horse while its hooves pounded the ground around my body, including my head. I found myself simultaneously praying and waiting for the impact of a hoof to strike me. I had no control over the outcome of the unfortunate position I found myself in. Lack of power to protect yourself contributes to whether a person is traumatized by an event. I was fortunate to escape a life-altering injury.
I tiptoed back into riding. A friend offered her horse to get me going again. Her horse was a steady, calm mount. She generously allowed me to ride him for a year while slowly gaining confidence. I felt guilty for not riding my horse, but our baggage prevented me from getting on him in my vulnerable state. Eventually, I found my way back to him. I initially was unwilling to do more than walk. Over time, I worked up my nerve to trot on him on a lunge line while in a lesson.
We had several lessons where I started on the lunge line and finished the session off of it. I was cautiously optimistic. One April day in 2022, we began as usual, but it became clear that Rudy was mentally and physically tense. His tension became mine with every step. I was terrified of him spooking. By the time the lesson ended, I was barely holding myself together. I couldn't get off of him fast enough. As my feet hit the ground, I said, "I'm done riding him!" Self-preservation was all I could think of at that moment. It was this ride that led to the prolonged layoff from trotting Rudy.
For a while, I didn't ride him at all, but one day, I decided to hop on him for a casual walk ride in the indoor arena. It didn't take long for us to run into trouble. Out of the blue, he refused to go in one direction or the other, depending on the day. He fought me if I asked him to back up, and when I asked for a halt. The frustration in me mounted and exacerbated the dynamic between the two of us. The only thing that made me feel better was that he tried some of the same behavior with his training rider. She had the experience and confidence to work through these moments.
During the months of walk rides, I worked on myself a lot, including hypnosis. I also leased a quarter horse named Anna. She was what I needed in a horse: quiet and steady no matter the circumstances she encountered. She helped me immeasurably. Her gentle, calm nature allowed my overactive nervous system to decompress while improving my riding skills. As my confidence grew, so did the nagging feeling that I needed to get back to trotting Rudy. It became clear that the problem was something other than Rudy. It was me. Other people rode him with success.
Rudy has a strong personality and is opinionated, but he is fair. He demands riders and handlers be the same. He is in my life to help me be the best version of myself. For years, I longed for a teacher, a mentor to guide and push me to find new, better ways of being. Rudy is that sage.
It's hard to pinpoint when I realized that Rudy behaved as he did to deliver an important message. The behaviors he exhibited under saddle with me, the taking over, not allowing me to steer him, and the kicking out when asked to trot, were all his way of taking control. I left him no choice since I was unwilling to recognize the fear alive in me that resulted in tension and over-management of him. Simply put, I didn't feel good to him. Rudy needed to protect himself from my energy. He also was protecting me from another mishap.
Once I realized this, appreciation and love flooded me. Everything was clear. All the frustration I felt about him and us as partners fell away. I knew what I needed to do. I had to work on letting go of the fear and trauma trapped in my body, and I did.
A combination of timing and the news of his longtime rider leaving the barn led me to trot Rudy again. I started on the lunge line. I had four successful rides under my belt before I rode him alone. With each outing, my confidence grew. He was the horse I remembered before my accident, but I was different. For the fifth ride, I steadied my nerves, focused on what I had done in previous sessions, and squeezed gently with my legs as I envisioned upward motion into the trot. Away we went! It was Rudy and I moving and working together.
Why was Rudy willing to work with me now? Instead of putting everything on him, I trusted him and chose confidence for myself. I took responsibility for my unresolved feelings and fear holding me back. I used Simon Biles' "You Got This" mantra to ask him for that first solo trot transition for an extra boost. It was me who needed the encouragement, not Rudy. My gratitude for my horse and all he does for me is immense. His willingness to show up is one of the greatest gifts of my life.
Diane R. Jones
August 2024
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