choosing the horse first and the sport second

Choosing the Horse First, the Sport Second

This is such a catch cry, but what does it really mean?

Let me tell you my story....

There was a time when I believed rolkur (hyperflexion of the horse’s neck) was a perfectly acceptable and necessary practice. In my view, anyone who criticized it was an armchair critic who had never ridden "sensitive" warmbloods, which can be incredibly intimidating to ride in certain environments or can show challenging responses to the bit. Rolkur helped me manage and venture out with my horse.

But then, I discovered that I didn’t have a "sensitive" warmblood; rather, I unknowingly added to his anxiety by not understanding how horses learn and by making him uncomfortable. All these mistakes hindered his ability to cope with various environments and prevented him from trusting me. When I addressed these issues, I realized I had a horse with a beautiful temperament that didn't need me to force his nose to his chest in a rolkur position to limber up or keep me safe.

Despite these revelations and although I had learned a lot about how horses learn, my knowledge still had gaps. I recall being baffled by voices within the dressage community criticizing competitive dressage for rewarding horses for movements that were merely "circus tricks."

This baffled me. To me, you taught horses to understand and execute each movement in a dressage test. For instance, how could one horse execute a travers as a "circus trick" and another not, if the definition of a travers was simply a horse flexed in the direction of travel, with its hindquarters on the inside track and legs moving on four tracks when viewed head-on? I found it straightforward to teach any movement to a horse. I broke the movement down into basic steps and fine-tuned their performance by rewarding even the slightest effort. Quickly, the horses I trained understood the cue for travers, performing it consistently until I directed otherwise.

Then, I injured a horse—severely , to the point of requiring surgery—and that's when the "circus trick" analogy clicked for me.

I learned that dressage wasn't just a set of movements you train a horse to understand and obediently execute in a test. Dressage is, in fact, a means of safeguarding a horse against the adverse effects of being ridden, ensuring its longevity and health.

Each line, arena figure, and movement in a dressage test serves as a specialized workout for a horse, focusing on various muscles and aspects of their biomechanics.

My understanding was limited to the mental aspect of how horses learn, and I had overlooked the importance of their physical well-being.

My ignorance led to injuring the horse, as I failed to recognize the strength I needed to build in them BEFORE progressing their training, introducing new movements, or expecting sustained performances from them.

I lacked the ability to gauge their strength and gymnastic progress or to discern if a movement was executed with the correct posture. I'm still on this learning curve, especially with horses of different conformations. However, I now grasp the "circus trick" critiques and how movements can be done incorrectly, harming the horse rather than benefiting it.

There's a saying: "Choose the horse first, and the sport second."

To embody this, we must challenge ourselves. Remove that noseband and address the contact or control issues.

If we can't execute a movement without a whip, recognize it as a training issue. If the horse doesn't understand the cue or is uncomfortable with a movement and requires the whip's motivation, there's a problem.

If our horses require joint supplements or injections for soundness, STOP—we're facing a major issue.

Horses don't care about our ribbons or trophies.

Issues with soundness indicate wear and tear. Our training SHOULD make them more robust, not weaker. Judges evaluate us briefly, but a horse's body reveals the true ramifications of our training.

If we label our horse "sensitive" or rely on calming powders or herbs, we face a trust or training issue that CAN be addressed.

Frustrations with our horses signify that we need to learn more or adjust our approach.

I'm sure some readers are nodding in agreement, while others might be skeptical of my assertions. Regardless of whether you concur or dissent, two things unite us: our love for horses and our commitment to doing our best with the knowledge we possess.

I won't criticize anyone for being on their own learning journey, much like I was. I have the courage to share my story and insights, hoping they might provide a fresh perspective. None of us are flawless trainers, but we prioritize our horses when we listen to them and strive to learn more