By Jennifer Bryant
© 2006 United States Dressage Federation. Used by permission. Reproduction prohibited without prior written permission of the publisher.
Show long enough, and the unexpected is bound to happen to you. From the mundane (you ride off course) to the once-in-a-blue-moon (a twister bears down on the showgrounds), it’s wise to steel yourself for whatever show nerves, technology, or Mother Nature dishes out.
To help you be more prepared than an overeager Boy Scout, we talked with two women who have seen it all: a well-traveled dressage judge and an experienced competitor, USDF-certified instructor, and “show mom.” Together they’ll toss you lifelines for (almost) every imaginable nightmare scenario.
Rescue strategy: Desensitize him at home. “If the resistance lasts longer than 20 seconds, you’re eliminated,” says Melissa Creswick, a USEF “S” judge from Clovis, CA, who’s also a USEF Dressage Committee member, a former USDF Region 7 director, and a past California Dressage Society president. “If your horse is truly afraid, it’s not prudent to keep pushing him toward something he’s really scared of.”
You may not be able to rectify the problem at the show. Instead, chalk the busted test up to a learning experience and plan to address your horse’s fears at home, before his next outing.
“In my arena at home, I have wind socks, shiny things, plastic chairs and flowers, plants, a plastic owl, and the radio on,” Creswick says. “The sprinklers sometimes come on while I ride. The point is to make the environment at home as much like a show environment as you can.”
Rescue strategy: Stop; listen to the judge; and keep your cool.
“So often, people become unraveled when they go off course,” Creswick says. If you zig when you should have zagged, the judge will alert you by ringing the bell or blowing the whistle. Halt and listen carefully while she tells you where you went wrong. Then “take a deep breath and say to yourself, ‘It’s only one movement; it’s only two points’” (deducted from your total score for the error). Go back to the place where you went off course and pick up the test from there.
“I forgot my rein back in a test once,” Creswick relates. To help make up for the lost points, she “knew I had to nail that halt and rein back. I went back, got an 8, and won the class with a 69 percent.”
Most “errors of the course” are nervous mistakes—but don’t blindly assume that the judge is always right, especially if it’s early in the show season and new tests have just come out, Creswick says. “The judge can be wrong.” If you’re certain that you should circle at B but the judge blew the whistle, politely raise the question. Whoever’s mistaken, acknowledge the goof graciously and put it behind you.
Rescue strategy: Adjust your riding accordingly.
A downpour an hour before your test left your ring looking like a map of the Seven Seas. Most judges will understand if you skirt those giant mud pits a teensy bit, says Crystal Gaskell, an FEI-level competitor and a USDF-certified instructor through Fourth Level who sees plenty of bad weather in her hometown of Cazenovia, NY.
“Look at the arena before you ride,” Gaskell advises. “Make a plan of how you’re going to ride your test if the footing is mushy or really hard. Very hard footing, for example, tends to make horses not want to go forward. Think about how your horse will react, and plan your riding strategy accordingly.”
Rescue strategy: Ride him a little deeper than normal.
“When a horse is calling during a test, he’s on alert, and his head is usually high,” says Gaskell. “If you can keep them a little deep, with their eyes a little below the horizon, they relax. If I’m riding a horse that starts calling, I ‘shake’ the bridle or my leg a little bit—not pulling, but just vibrating it enough to get his attention.” The good news is that, as long as he stays otherwise correct and on the bit, you shouldn’t be penalized for his vocalizing, as long as he quits after a couple of clarion calls.
Rescue strategy: Start your test.
If you’re riding in a multi-ring show, find out in advance whether the signal for your competition arena is a whistle or a bell, Creswick says (ask the ring steward if you’re unsure). If you still can’t tell whether the bell has tolled for you, “you can enter the arena” (assuming there’s no one in it at the time!) “and halt and salute. If the judge hadn’t signaled you yet, she can tell you to leave the ring and start over, or she may quietly blow the whistle and let you go ahead. Either way, you won’t be eliminated.”
Rescue strategy: Scratch.
“You see this a lot with young horses, whose tests are usually the earliest of the day,” says Gaskell. “They’re too fresh and too ‘on the muscle’ to do a Training Level test at 8:00. If this happens, I’ll scratch and put them in at 10:00 if the secretary permits. Then I’m able to give them the longer warm-up that they need.”
What if you, the rider, are the one who’s too wound up? Happens all the time, and you can do the same thing, says Gaskell, whose students include lots of adult amateurs and junior/young riders (including daughter Emma, a member of the 2005 Region 8 North American Young Riders’ Championships dressage team). If Gaskell suggests to an overly nervous student that she scratch a class and regroup, “she’s usually relieved.”
“Just being at a show is experience enough” for the overwhelmed, usually inexperienced competitor, whether equine or human, Gaskell says. That’s why she likes multi-day shows: “You have another class or another day” to give it another try.
Rescue strategy: If the judge permits, leave the arena.
USEF rules specify that, if there is no backup sound system, you may ask the judge’s permission to leave the arena if your music stops, Creswick points out. You’ll be given the opportunity to complete your freestyle at a time that causes the least disruption to the show schedule—most likely during a break or at the end of the class.
When it comes time for your reride, you may choose either to take it from the top or to pick up from the point at which the music stopped, Creswick says. Even if you start over, judging will not commence until that point (so if you had a big mess-up early on, you haven’t lucked into a do-over, which isn’t permitted in dressage competition).
Rescue strategy: Just keep going.
“Just ignore it. You can’t stop,” says Creswick. If the hat happens to land right on a line where you have to ride, skirt it as discreetly as possible.
“That exact thing happened to Emma once,” Gaskell says of her daughter. “Her hat fell off right at X. She changed her line slightly so as not to run over it.”
Got another test coming up? Stuff tissues in the hat to snug up the fit. After the show, get a better-fitting hat.
Rescue strategy: If instructed, stop and wait; if not, soldier on.
Try as you might to block out everything outside that 20-by-60 sandbox, sometimes you just can’t—such as when another rider gets dumped, sparking a general commotion and cries of “loose horse!” If this happens while you’re in mid-test, the judge may well tell you to halt until the errant animal is rounded up, Gaskell says. If the judge doesn’t stop the action, then press on if you can. But if you feel your safety or your horse’s is in jeopardy, then ask the judge’s permission to stop.
Rescue strategy: Ask to be excused, if the judge doesn’t beat you to it.
USEF rules allow the judge to eliminate a competitor because of fears for the rider’s safety, says Creswick. If the judge believes that the piece of broken tack renders you unable to continue safely (perhaps in the case of a rein or a billet strap), then he will stop the test. But if the judge doesn’t consider the broken tack to be a safety hazard (a broken stirrup leather might fall in this category), then he may say nothing and allow you to continue. Again, however, you as the competitor are ultimately responsible for your welfare and that of your horse, Creswick says. You’re always within your rights to ask to be excused if you believe you cannot continue.
Rescue strategy: Do what’s best for him.
If it was a minor “eek!” moment, then you might as well go on, says Creswick. Let’s say some papers blew off the judge’s table and into the ring: “If the spook was only for a stride or two, the judge can choose to ignore it [not penalize it] because the spook was effectively caused by the judge.”
Creswick assures competitors that judges are sympathetic (really!) to the plight of the rider who must deal with the unexpected. Once, while she was officiating at an Alaska dressage show, “a large animal crashed through the trees next to the arena. I gave the competitor a reride,” she says. Another time, she ordered a rider to seek cover as a tornado bore down on the showgrounds.
But “the judge is in charge of that,” she says. If you’re faced with a situation you don’t wish to ride through, you may ask to be excused. (If you leave the ring without the judge’s permission, you face elimination from the remainder of the competition.)
“The important thing to me is the training,” Creswick says of the stay-or-go decision. “You as the rider have the responsibility to make it a positive situation for the horse. I once was riding a test when someone started dragging a saddle rack across concrete, out of view of the arena.” She was excused.
The fear factor is part of the equation; says Creswick; the other part is the importance of the ride. “If you’re going for gold at Young Riders, you’d better try to work it out.”
Rescue strategy: Ease his tension.
You might assume that stopping calls for a good whack, but that’s not always the case, says Gaskell. “My horse Figaro started stopping on the center line, and he also did it with Emma [in her Young Rider tests]. It was because we’d been training hard and we needed to ease off. I would stand there, relax him, walk forward, take the tension away from him, and then, as of the next movement, he’d be better.”
Rescue strategy: Borrow a buddy.
“It’s stressful for a horse to leave the crowd in the warm-up ring and go to the competition arena all alone,” Gaskell says. “If my horse or a student’s horse is showing signs of nervousness, I’ll ask the rider of the horse in the ring ahead of us to stay in the vicinity.”
Rescue strategy: Depends on whether it’s in or out.
“If the arena gets knocked over to the inside, you have to hope the judge blows the whistle to stop and have it fixed,” says Creswick. “If it gets knocked to the outside, you have to live with it.”
Rescue strategy: Get back to business ASAP.
Dobbin’s klutziness “only affects the movement being ridden. It doesn’t eliminate the rider,” says Creswick. (All four feet have to leave the arena for you to get the boot, per USEF rules.)
Once, while judging, “I saw a horse straddle the arena with one front leg and one hind leg, for four strides,” Creswick recalls. “I gave it [the movement] a 4.”
Should your hapless horse find himself part way out of the arena, “correct it and go on as fast as you can,” says Creswick.
Rescue strategy: Mind your geometry—and that gap at A.
Even if your mount isn’t having a full-scale herdbound meltdown, the presence of other horses can produce an irresistible gravitational pull of sorts. Circles bulge on the sides closest to the “herd” while their far sides are lopped off. And more than one unsuspecting rider has found himself powerless to stop his horse from making a quick getaway while passing the gap in the arena rail at A.
If your horse seems a little too interested in getting back with his buddies, ride defensively, suggests Gaskell. Use extra inside leg to prevent him from cutting in on a circle or corner, and establish a strong defense with outside leg and a “guarding” outside rein to keep him from bulging out. As you approach A, weight your inside seat bone more heavily and ride strongly forward. Gaze intently in the direction in which you want him to go. Avoid the temptation to look at the yawning gap, as you’ll inadvertently shift your weight and so may give him the exact opposite aids of what you intend.
Rescue strategy: Ask to be excusd.
“Marked lameness” is cause for elimination, but ultimately, your horse’s health and welfare “is the rider’s responsibility,” says Creswick. If you just know something’s amiss, even if the judge hasn’t “rung you out,” you must be your horse’s advocate by stopping, saluting, and explaining why you wish to be excused.
Rescue strategy: Stop and alert the judge.
Yup, judges have dealt with rider health emergencies too. “I’ve called the EMTs,” Creswick says. “I’ve gotten out of the judge’s box, held the horse, and helped the rider get off.”
Our sport’s full show regalia is notoriously athlete-unfriendly, particularly in hot weather. Heat exhaustion or full-blown heatstroke is not unheard of, especially in senior citizens, Creswick says. “When I judge older adults, especially if they appear to be over seventy, I’m very careful. I listen to their breathing. Usually they know something’s wrong and they stop and say, ‘I don’t feel good.’”
Health problems aren’t the sole province of the elderly. When she was in her early teens, young rider Emma Gaskell “had an anxiety attack in the middle of a Fourth Level test for which she hadn’t been able to prepare properly,” mom Crystal recalls. “She couldn’t breathe and asked to be excused.”
Let’s face it: For most of us, our dressage tests aren’t the Olympics, and you’re not going to be called a hero for going on with the show despite physical distress. “If you don’t feel well, there’s always another ride,” says Creswick.
Rescue strategy: Don’t blow it out of proportion.
Every horse is subject to, well, being a horse, and every rider has had her share of forgettable tests. Pros know this, and so they understand that occasional disappointment comes with the territory.
Less-experienced competitors, however, tend to think of showing as a bigger deal. A poor performance may be regarded as a catastrophe instead of a “better luck next time” learning opportunity.
In Creswick’s experience, adult amateurs tend to get the most rattled by a subpar test. At a stage in their lives when most have some sense of comfort and mastery in their jobs and personal lives, adult riders—especially if they’re novices—are working to learn new skills and (sometimes) struggling to accept the fact that the horse doesn’t always do what they want. “They can come unglued because they get embarrassed or scared,” Creswick says.
Perspective is key to preventing one bad ride from ruining your day (and that of everyone else around you). “It’s only seven minutes,” Creswick says of the average dressage test. Your scores and completed test sheet “only indicate how things are going for that day, that seven minutes.”
Young people aren’t immune to getting a major case of the lows after a poor ride, either. That bad test may loom large in the psyche of the child who feels pressured to excel, or who hasn’t learned to handle failure. Seeing others grapple with similar problems can prove comforting to the kid who feels she’s the only one to whom this disaster has ever happened.
Gaskell says that some veteran dressage competitors helped her daughter, Emma, to put less-than-stellar rides into perspective. “My daughter once saw a professional whose horse piaffed backward out of the ring,” she says. “The rider couldn’t do a thing about it, and she was just laughing. Seeing adults who were able to laugh at themselves and their mistakes made a big impression on her, and helped to change her outlook on competition.”
Still feeling unprepared for the show ring? See “Keep Time on Your Side” WHERE for advice on ridding the experience of any unpleasant surprises. Then get out there, and have fun!