Chessington 1

11th May 2010

Chessington Equestrian Centre, Chessington

So after my slightly disappointing experience of riding in Wimbledon, I realised that ‘city’ riding, no matter how close to greenery, was not going to hit the spot for me, and I needed to find somewhere further out to base myself. Especially as I really wanted to have regular lessons to improve my riding and try and break the numerous bad habits that years of hacking had nurtured. With no menage at Wimbledon, this would be difficult to achieve. I started looking around the BHS site at riding schools within walking distance of a station on the Wimbledon line as I figured the easier it was to get to, the more often I would go. With a subsequent recommendation from the H&H forum, I booked an assessment lesson at Chessington Equestrian Centre. This was chosen for many reasons – the location, which is a 15 minute train ride and 20 minute walk from Wimbledon, the facilities, which include a jumping arena, indoor school, and 3 or 4 outdoor schools, the large range of horses, and of course the personal recommendation. The prices were also reasonable, but I figured anywhere further out would be cheaper than Wimbledon, so that wasn’t a key issue. I arrived having got a little lost around the livery yard, as I had not anticipated quite how large the premises would be. I had to ask a couple of people where to go, and they were very friendly and smiley, which immediately put me at ease and allayed my concerns about yard bitchiness and rudeness to newcomers. I eventually found the riding school, and met Diane, who would be teaching me, in the little office. She was also very friendly, and I relaxed and stopped fretting so much about being at a new yard. I was probably more nervous about this that I was about riding. A quick change (I went straight from work) and I was ready to go. Diane brought out a huge hulking monster of a horse, apparently well over 17hh (although on the website it says he’s 16hh) by the name of Luran – an ex-showjumper who loved to jump. I panicked on hearing this. Surely she wasn’t expecting me to go over fences? No, she wasn’t. Not today anyway. I got to the mounting block (chances of me getting onto a huge horse unaided = precisely zero) and adjusted my stirrups. Thus began the first realisation that this wasn’t going to be easy. I generally tend to ride short, but I was firmly told that my stirrups were too short as they were, but I’d be allowed to ride like that for now. To me they felt incredibly long, almost longer than my legs. It was about now that I reflected on my riding experience. I moved on from a riding school far too quickly – after less than a year of sporadic lessons, and had pretty much been taught the ‘basics’ of pull to stop, kick to go, and ‘fold’ over a jump. Years of sharing had perhaps refined my technique a little, and added some subtleties, but as a solely happy hacker, I probably picked up as many bad habits as good ones. Actually, probably more. Into the school, and my fears of riding in a school returned. Since I left the riding school as a 14 year old, I have ridden in schools a handful of times. Each of these times was aboard a horse that would much rather be on a jaunt in the countryside, and the whole session was a battle, especially given my lack of expertise anyway. This didn’t seem like it would be much better, as although Luran proved willing, I lacked the strength, fitness (whatever happened to muscle memory?) and skill to work him properly, thus he did what any horse with a lump on top would do and plodded round for much of the session. After a little walking to warm up, we started trotting, and stayed in trot or canter for pretty much the remainder of the lesson. This was a bit of a shock to me, as the only lessons I had at the riding school were group ones, where for most of the hour you were plodding around, and every now and then trotted or cantered to the back of the ride. Luckily the assessment lesson was only half an hour, else I may well have collapsed. I was disappointed to find that once again riding felt completely unnatural. I’ve had breaks from riding before, but I don’t remember finding it so difficult to pick up again. Every movement felt like a huge effort, and the thought of riding a dressage test or jumping a course seemed impossible. It was clear that my position was far from perfect, and the main thing I need to work on is keeping my heels down. I guess years of riding short has left my leg feeling more comfortable in the ‘wrong’ position, and is now struggling to adapt to being correct. I kept losing my left stirrup, which I had to adjust a couple of times as it was clearly a couple of holes longer than the right, but even at the end when the were even, I kept losing it. My new mantra is ‘weight in my heels’. Other basic errors I need to work on are sitting up (my old habit of tipping forward hasn’t been resolved by 7 years off), chin up and thumbs on top. I’ve never managed to ride with my thumbs on top. No idea why. Laziness? Steering in changes of rein was interesting. I just rode as I normally would, probably a sub-conscious combination of pulling, pushing and willing the horse to move in the right direction, but was told to use the outside leg and outside rein. This made me giggle as there was a debate on H&H the other day about whether to steer from the inside or outside. Either way, as soon as I used the outside leg and rein, I got a beautiful turn. Outside for now then. One interesting point was that early on she pointed out that as the horse walks, the riders obviously moves in the saddle. But I move back and forward (not quite to the point of ‘shagging my saddle’, but close) yet the horse moves more from side to side. I tried to do this and it did feel a lot more natural. It’s a good job that I had already acknowledged my lack of basic skills, and intended to have regular lessons, else I probably would have been in for a nasty shock. Trotting was ok, I was rising too high, perhaps as he had quite a short choppy stride, and I was having to work too hard as I couldn’t get him to work hard enough. I’d completely forgotten about diagonals, and although I knew the theory of when to sit, in practise I always forget (as I’m usually on a hack it’s fairly irrelevant), and I had to keep reminding myself to double sit on changes of rein. I kept losing my stirrups, although Diane laughed as I kept on rising while desperately fumbling to find the stirrup again. I think that harks back to my teenage years, when I figured rising trot would work the thighs well, so went on long hacks doing loads of rising trot without stirrups. Cantering was ok, although the transitions were abysmal (improvement noted by the end of the lesson though) and at first I found it difficult to keep him going, and to keep the trot going when we stopped cantering. He was quite nice to sit to though, which given the earlier warnings from Diane about him being uncomfortable, was a nice surprise. He was quite fun to ride, and I can imagine that for a better rider he would go very nicely. He apparently is fabulous to jump, maybe one day (soonish?) I’ll get to find that out for myself. He bucked a bit, and tried to spook at some wings in the corner, but I was pleased that neither bothered me and I just made him move on. I always think of myself as a nervous rider, but at the end of the lesson Diane told me I was confident in the saddle. As I’m much more of a confident person in general than when I was riding before, maybe that all translates into the saddle too. All too soon the half hour ended, and I realised that I was quite uncomfortably sweaty. I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard on a horse for half an hour before. I really liked the yard. It was very quiet, being a weekday evening, but that suits me fine, at least until I get to know the place and remember what I’m doing. I mentioned that on my hack at Wimbledon, I was given the tacked up horse and then gave back the tacked up horse for someone else to immediately ride out, and was told that I’d be very welcome to turn up early and groom/tack up etc, which will be nice for me to feel more involved again. I’d also been told that there may be opportunities there to share – either one of the liveries, or one of the school horses/hunters. It certainly looks as though I’ll be going to Chessington quite regularly. Just need to work out a running or cycling route to get there, and I can add in some extra cross-training too. I booked in my next lesson, on the lunge to try and get my position sorted. I was a little embarrassed, as I’d explained I couldn’t commit to a regular time at weekends, but could during the week, then proceeded to turn down the first three dates she offered as I’m busy with holiday and work. So 2 weeks to go until I ride again. I want to go *now*…