George and I had a lesson yesterday afternoon. Although TrainerCheryl complimented us on our much improved and very forward trot, I was disappointed in my canter work or, quite frankly, lack thereof.
My name is Walktrotcanter and I am afraid to canter. Yep, let’s just put it out there.
I. am. Afraid. Big. Chicken.
We can be going along in a fine groove and I will think, “Gee, perhaps I will try the canter”…with visions of the wind on my face and my hair flying in the breeze as we zip right along. The problem is not that my hair is not long enough and I wear a helmet so it wouldn’t fly in the breeze even if I COULD get a nice canter going; the problem is that when I cue George, all hell breaks loose in my body and I end up flopping about like a noodle in the saddle, all legs and elbows. George then says to himself, “WTF?? What is she DOING up there??”, and decides whatever it is I am doing, he had better slow down.
And off we trot.
Cantering has always been a bit of an issue with me, I don’t know why. I think it is because I feel like all of the sudden everything is MOVINGVERYFASTANDHOWCANISTAYWITHTHISSPEEDINGHORSE. Of course, when I watch someone canter while I am standing on the ground, it does not look at all like the blur of speed I seem to feel when I am riding. I agree with TrainerCheryl in that I just need to do it and do it and do it and my comfort and coordination will come. I also agree with TrainerCheryl in that George is not going to take off in a bucking rampage so he is a good horse as far as learning. I just need to do it. And learn it. And not be afraid.
In other, more exciting,news, George has moved to a different stall at the barn. This move is somewhat of a *promotion* for us, as we are now only steps away from the tack room. This is the *elite* section of stalls that the long-term boarders normally call home. (We are in the IN Crowd! We are POPULAR!!) Now, instead of hauling our saddle and bridle and assorted miscellaneous items down the loooooooong corridor of the barn with several trips back and forth because I usually forget something, I am only steps from my tack locker. Now, George will also be tacked-up faster thus allowing for optimum riding time. I am more thrilled about this than George is, of course; so to make him happy I told him we would go to Target and get some furnishings for his new penthouse apartment. Maybe a cool chair and some tab top curtains so he fits in with the popular rich kids next to him.