How Did I Get My First “Clear” Trip at 1.0m?
By Cathy Sobke
Rubber-necking. Train wrecks. Thrills and spills videos. There is something about the human condition that requires us to stop and look when we see a disaster about to happen. You feel guilty about looking, but you cannot stop yourself from a double take when you see impending doom. Do you know when it is not awesome to experience this feeling? Watching yourself ride. But here I was, watching myself on video, knowing it was not going to end well with a pretty ribbon. Even without watching the whole course, you could tell how it was going to end just by
the way I started my round. I was so slow. Yet again.
You would think that all of us jumper riders are speed demons, and while I’d like to imagine myself as one of those flaming fast jumpers like Ashley Bond, the reality is that I go more like the speed of a sloth after Thanksgiving dinner. My poor horse and trainer have been working on my pace for a while now. Phrases like “more pace,” “don’t loose impulsion,” or “keep him going” were commonplace in our lessons. I did my homework and our pace was getting better at home. Yet every time we went to a show, I reverted to my old habit of wanting to just slow things down. At some point, I realized that what I was feeling in the show was just that little tiny bit of nerves and adrenaline that made my perception off. My natural reaction was to want to slow… things…. down… while my brain tried to catch up. Not ideal for a jumper rider where the name of the game is speed. I thought I was moving at the right step and in the meantime, I was getting the add, if not the double add, the weak chip, or the crazy long spot (I definitely have a screen shot where I was left so far back, all that was missing was a few hounds underneath us to complete the lithograph of a fox hunting scene).
My chronic pace problems have been one of the reasons that I had not ever gone clear above a 0.95m. My first attempt at the 1.0m (3’3” height) was back in 2018. Since then, I had attempted that height many, many times and never could be consistent enough to go clear. The 1.0m had become my white whale – just out of reach with every attempt.
This was all playing in the background as I entered a small local schooling show and realized due to the show schedule, I was likely going to have an opportunity to do the 1.0m class. I also realized that if I had my familiar pace issues, my trainer was likely not going to let us try that height again for a long, long time. Watching the recording of my last trip at 0.85 and noticing how, yet again, I was under paced and going so slow (I mean it was honestly painful to watch), I decided it was time to have an honest talk with myself.
Self: “Why do you keep going under-paced? Is it physical?”
Cathy: “No, I have the right pace at home and in lessons, so my horse and I are capable of going the right pace.”
Self: “Fair point. Maybe it’s mental. Are you are afraid?”
Cathy: “I’m not quite afraid. Maybe I am a little bit apprehensive.”
Self: “Why? Of what?”
Cathy: “I guess getting hurt while going too fast.”
Self: “Well if that’s what you’re afraid of, going under-paced is a real good way of getting yourself hurt. So how about going at a pace where your poor horse can get over the fence?”
Cathy: “Gee, self. You have a point.”
Keeping my reflective pep talk in mind when I went into the ring at the schooling show, I tried to make sure I had more than enough step to get down the line. Maybe enough to give myself the option of leaving out a stride. And it worked! We certainly had not resolved our all problems. For example, by the time we did our trip at 1.0m, my horse and I were quite hot and a bit tired, so we still managed to get a three stride in a two (yes, we still got the add but at least I asked for the add intentionally rather than just ending up with two and a half strides).
Were we the fastest? I have no idea. In fact, our time was 83 seconds, which in any normal show would have likely resulted in time faults. However, because it was a schooling show, they did not even have a time allowed. We were officially clear! My mom, who came to watch, was actually so impressed that she came up after and said, “You were so good. I did not even recognize you!” Gee, thanks mom! At least I finally got my white whale.
If you want to step up your mental game, I recommend reading “Ride Big” by John Haime.