Tag: sorority girl

Horowitz On OTTBs, Presented By Excel Equine: Like OTTBs, No Two Snowflakes Are Alike

If horses could talk, this is what I imagine the responses would be if my wife and I asked each of our top event horses, “Can you do (fill in the blank with something we'd like our horses to do)?”

Ashley's chestnut mare Tiny Dancer (JC: Emily's Pegasus) would respond, “Yes, I'd love to!” There is definitely an exclamation point on the end of Sussy's response to express her excitement about literally everything. That excitement sometimes results in overjumping a cross country fence by a foot, but she wants to do all the things.

My chestnut mare Sorority Girl (JC: Grand Moony) would respond, “I don't know, can I?” There is definitely sarcasm on the end of Moo's response. This is the response you've probably heard from a smartass child who may not want to do it and points out how the question only asks if she is able to do it, not that the person asking actually wants it done. Moo is opinionated and questions whether she has to do something.

My wife and I celebrated our one-year anniversary this month and are grateful to be living our dreams through our event horses. However, the path each of our top event horses has taken so that we can continue to chase those dreams has been very different. The lesson of this second part of the three-part mini series “Not Every Horse” that I'm exploring through this column is that horses, just like people, have very different personalities and learning styles. It's crucial to take those into account when training a retired racehorse for a new career.

That may seem obvious, but when the evaluations of horses are based on their physical performance, the effects of the horses' personalities on their learning styles may more prominently influence their physical progress than their actually physical ability.

A racehorse may have all the physical talent in the world, but without the desire to fight and go for a small opening on the rail, that horse's physical talent won't come out in its fullest. Most retired racehorses can physically do anything their riders will ever ask them to do. However, a trainer must bring it out in a way that matches a horse's personality and learning style. Otherwise, the retraining will stagnate or possibly decline if horse and rider can't get on the same page.

My wife and I have similar looking chestnut Thoroughbred mares with similar physical strengths. However, how we've each been able to bring them out has been different because not every horse responds to the same training techniques.

For Ashley, Emily's Pegasus retired from racing at Fonner Park in Nebraska as a 4-year-old on May 13, 2020. One week later, she arrived at our Super G Sporthorses farm in Parker, Colorado. One month and one day after her last race, Sussy competed at Intro at the Mile High Derby about 10 minutes from where we live and finished fourth in a field of 21 at Intro in the combined test featuring dressage and a challenging, winding cross country course of 21 obstacles, including water, a ditch, and a bank.

“She had no idea what she was doing,” Ashley said, looking back. “She was just excited to be doing it. I just had to point her at a jump, and she was like, 'Yes! I'll do that!'”

Sorority Girl and Jonathan Horowitz (top) take the same jump at Archer in Wyoming as Tiny Dancer and Ashley Horowitz, but their journeys to this point have been quite different because of their horses' personalities.

Ashley also rode Grand Moony during the mare's first year off the track as a 4-year-old. Like Sussy, Moo showed promise among big fields at the 2017 Thoroughbred Makeover, placing 11th of 83 in Show Jumping and 10th of 44 in Freestyle.

However, Moo was not excited about her retraining before the competition and would sometimes plant her feet and refuse to move. Ashley, although admittedly annoyed, never panicked. She recognized this was part of Moo's learning curve. She would ask me to stand nearby and gently pull Moo's bit when the mare stopped. It was a low-cost way to convince the chestnut mare to move forward without a fight.

I bought Moo and did my first recognized events with her in 2018. Because of Moo's personality as a horse that questions what is being asked of her and evaluates whether or not she wants to do it, we've had our share of setbacks. 

After completing our first recognized event at Beginner Novice at the 2018 Spring Gulch Horse Trials, our next three recognized events included an elimination for refusals at cross country jumps, a fall at a ditch on cross country, and an elimination on dressage after she planted her feet, refused to move, and backed out of the arena while kicking over the “A” block.

Because of these setbacks, she's been a tremendous horse to learn on and has forced me to step up and be a better rider. I'm proud that in six years of riding, I'm now competing at Novice on a horse I used to announce in races and at the Thoroughbred Makeover.

I've learned to appreciate the extreme highs and lows and life lessons that the sport of eventing offers. Arguably my favorite riding picture is from this year's Spring Gulch Horse Trials in May when Moo, unhappy due to the combination that we were doing dressage while other horses were jumping and that I still struggle with being balanced during dressage, decided she was done with our dressage test, made a scene, and planted her feet. Although the judge gave us plenty of time to recover, she eventually honked her horn to signal our elimination…on dressage. However, Moo still wouldn't move. I turned to the judge, smiled, and shrugged, and we both laughed at the scene my mare was making.

Moo is never dangerous and never bucks. She just sometimes acts like her show name of Sorority Girl. On the other hand, she loves to jump and is also an exhilarating ride.

As talented as Sussy is as well, she also has her challenges. She has made scenes in dressage, too, but those have come from overexcitement that manifest themselves differently than Moo's metaphorical eyerolls. Ashley has received comments that judges have written on her dressage tests of “buck leaps” and “I bet she loves to gallop” this year in her first full year of competition.

Yes, she does love to gallop, and Sussy is now turning in double clear cross country rounds at Training level as a 5-year-old. She and Ashley are headed to the upper levels, but Ashley also realizes that Sussy is still learning. 

Although I'm still waiting until my dressage is more consistent before I move up to Training, Sorority Girl and I have joined Tiny Dancer and Ashley in taking lessons and schooling Training cross country and stadium jumps. As much as I questioned whether Moo was the right horse for me during our early struggles, I appreciate that adapting to her personality and learning style is paying off.

Ashley restarted both of these mares, and if she insisted on a single route that both of them had to follow, neither of them would be as successful as they are today. Like OTTBs, no two snowflakes are alike. By adjusting to when a horse's personality starts to come out and they begin to express their opinions, there's a better chance of creating an effective partnership where horse and rider enjoy the ride and have fun and a few laughs in the process.

The post Horowitz On OTTBs, Presented By Excel Equine: Like OTTBs, No Two Snowflakes Are Alike appeared first on Horse Racing News | Paulick Report.

Source of original post

Thoroughbred Makeover Diaries Presented By Excel Equine: Riding Lessons About Nothing

I had my most valuable but optically boring riding lessons ever at the Super G Sporthorses farm my wife and I run in Parker, Colo., this month. I loved them, but I recognize that it was in the same way that George Costanza in Seinfeld loved pitching TV executives to create a show about “nothing” in the episode “The Pitch.”

To the outside observer, or at least those unfamiliar in the nuances of dressage, the lessons I did on my OTTBs Grand Moony (barn name Moo, show name Sorority Girl) and The Gray Man (barn name Uno, show name Rocketman) would have looked like they were “about nothing.” All we did was walk and trot on the flat at a time in our evolution that I've been jumping bigger on each horse.

I can almost hear you saying, like the TV executive character Russell Dalrymple did on Seinfeld, “Nothing? What does that mean?”

George responds, “Nothing happens on the show. It's just like life. You eat. You go shopping. You read. You eat.”

George eventually walks out. “This is the show, and we're not going to change it,” he insists, although the TV executives don't actually care.

However, the joke is actually on the TV executives. In real life, the whole brilliant series of Seinfeld, one of the most influential in television history, is critically regarded as an entire sitcom about “nothing.”

It was April 14, and I started that Wednesday in a somewhat foul mood with a lot of work and distractions. At midday, I needed a break and decided to ride my horses.

Since the start of the year, I've embraced the importance of emphasizing a strong riding foundation by focusing on dressage and not just trying to up the jumps or the excitement. I've also learned to appreciate the moments whose significance I don't understand at the time and that “Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither are OTTBs.”

With that in mind, my wife and trainer Ashley guided me through walking and trotting on Moo and Uno. Optically, those gaits seem like the “nothing” part of riding. You don't even see them in two of the three phases in eventing, as riders canter, gallop, and jump on cross country and in stadium jumping, rarely ever breaking to the trot or walk.

Because the walk and trot also happen to be the hardest to master, Ashley was really using this opportunity to introduce a whole new theory to implement into my riding during these lessons.

Up until this point in my five-and-a-half-year journey going from broadcasting horses to riding them, I had evolved from “hold on” to “backseat driver.” By the former, I mean that I would sit on a lesson horse and get a feel for what it's like to ride a horse at the different gaits and then over my first jumps. By the latter, I mean that I would try to influence what the horse did.

However, in neither of these situations was I actually the one in control. It takes years just to develop balance on and adaptation to the variety of movements that a 1,000-pound animal with a mind of its own is capable of, especially a Thoroughbred.

Moo and the author in the midst of an exhilarating cross country round at Spring Gulch

Now that I've started to get the feel for riding horses and the ability to follow their movements, Ashley felt I was in position to begin to raise my game to being the “leader.”

“You want to be like a friendly dictator,” she said. “You influence and support every movement. Is the horse doing what you want in that moment? If they are, you don't just give it away but continue to tell them to maintain it.”

The first steps toward leading that Ashley insisted I maintain were establishing contact with the outside rein, then bringing the horse up to the contact through my legs and hips, then maintaining a frame and not letting them fall onto the contact.

It was a lot to manage, and that's why we worked the entire time at the walk and trot. It's kind of like how much genius went into the one of the greatest TV shows of all time that ultimately critics agree was about “nothing.”

The upshot of all this focus on the two gaits that I don't even use on cross country and in show jumping was that those phases got better.

Four days after these lessons, I went cross country schooling at the Spring Gulch Equestrian Area. At the end of last year, Moo and I moved up to the novice height of 2-feet-11, and she and I have appreciated the bigger jumps and faster pace. That Sunday at Spring Gulch, I started staring at some of the training level jumps that have a maximum height of 3-feet-3.

“You're going to do them,” Ashley said, sensing how intently I was studying them.

And we did. There's still room to improve my rhythm and form for me to be proficient at the higher level, but what I'm most proud of is that my focus on the basics is what actually made this opportunity to grow possible.

Then, one week later on April 24, Moo and I had an exhilarating cross country round during our first show of the year at the Spring Gulch Combined Test.

 

We were competing at novice, and we blazed around the course with no issues. We even had to slow down fairly significantly at the end of the course to avoid incurring speed faults. There are still aspects of my form that I can improve, and those will come by going back to basics.

I also reaped the benefits from the focus on foundation when schooling Uno on cross country at Spring Gulch on April 26. He won't even be four years old until May 3, but he took a number of beginner novice jumps, the first United States Eventing Association recognized level at 2-feet-7, with eagerness. He felt proud of himself afterward. Before this, the times I jumped Uno were often marred by micromanagement on my part. This time, I was there to support and nurture his talent, and it showed through in spades. I did “nothing,” and that made all the difference.

 

Those moments are amazing and are why the hard work and heartaches that come with riding horses is worth it. But afterward, it's important to get back to real life. “You eat. You read. You go shopping.” No TV show did it better, and no approach to riding is better than the one that emphasizes how significant what seems like “nothing” can be.

The post Thoroughbred Makeover Diaries Presented By Excel Equine: Riding Lessons About Nothing appeared first on Horse Racing News | Paulick Report.

Source of original post

Thoroughbred Makeover Diaries Presented By Excel Equine: Horowitz Learns That In Eventing, Winning Isn’t Everything

“For when the one Great Scorer comes to write against your name,

He marks—not that you won or lost—but how you played the Game.”

—Grantland Rice, sportswriter, in “Alumnus Football”

 

“Winning isn't everything; it's the only thing.”

—Vince Lombardi, NFL coach

Grantland Rice is a major reason why sports are such a big deal in the United States. His syndicated column, “The Sportlight,” described by Britannica as “the most influential of its day,” anointed some of sport's greatest legends. It helped college and professional sports tug at America's heartstrings during the Roaring 1920s, and a nation of sports fans has never second-guessed its devotion since.

Rice created the “Four Horsemen” of Notre Dame and the “Galloping Ghost” of Red Grange—monikers still steeped in lore 100 years later and so influential that I once embarrassingly asked my high school English literature teacher how was it possible for there to be “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” in the New Testament when I thought Grantland Rice coined the term.

Not only did Grantland Rice write and broadcast sports, but he also gave advice about how it should be played. It's “not that you won or lost—but how you played the Game,” he wrote in his oft-quoted 1908 poem “Alumnus Football.”

Yet, as much as I admired Rice—again, I instinctively believed he was also the author of the Book of Revelation—I thought his advice about “how you played the Game” was a bunch of crap.

That's because Vince Lombardi, the coach of the NFL's Green Bay Packers who was so influential that the trophy awarded to the winners of the Super Bowl is named in his honor, came along about five decades later and said, “Winning isn't everything; it's the only thing.”

That's what the goal of sports has come to be about. There are similar phrases that roll off the tongue.

“Second place is the first loser.”

“No one remembers who finished second.”

“Nice guys finish last.”

And so on.

I started competing in the equestrian sport of eventing in 2018 at the age of 33 with my sights set on winning ribbons. Never mind that I had only been riding for three years on my journey from announcer to rider. Never mind that my first horse, the 2013 chestnut mare Sorority Girl (JC: Grand Moony) that I used to announce at Arapahoe Park, had never competed in a recognized event either, although she had performed well in freestyle and show jumpers at the 2017 Retired Racehorse Project Thoroughbred Makeover with my trainer and wife, Ashley Horowitz.

Our first recognized event was the 2018 Spring Gulch Horse Trials in Colorado at the Beginner Novice level of 2-feet-7. I also announced the show and would take a break from announcing for our dressage, stadium jumping, and cross country rounds.

I made it through all three phases, which eventers treat as a significant achievement given the number of obstacles that have the potential to eliminate a competitor. I even managed to place 12th of 21 in my division. So, I honestly thought that the ribbons would start to come — no, they would have to come for me to prove my worth in my new sport.

The ribbons did not come. I found a variety of ways to be eliminated from my next few shows. We were eliminated for too many refusals at cross country jumps at our next recognized event, the 2018 Round Top Horse Trials in Colorado. Then, I fell at the ditch on the cross country course at the 2018 Event at Archer in Wyoming.

A disagreement about a ditch at the 2018 Archer event resulted in Horowitz and Sorority Girl parting company

And then came the coup de grâce at the Spring Gulch Horse Trials in May 2019 when Sorority Girl put on the brakes during our dressage test, refused to move despite my kicking her to go forward, and backed out of the dressage arena. Adding insult to injury, she kicked over the “A” block for good measure.

I thought these results made me an outcast, but the eventing community, especially in our area, is incredibly supportive.

“Everyone has been there before,” Ashley said. “This is how you learn.”

Things then started to click for Sorority Girl and me. We had our best dressage test to date at the 2019 Round Top Horse Trials and didn't add any penalties on cross country or in stadium jumping to finish on our dressage score in sixth place out of 18 at Beginner Novice. That earned us earn our first ribbon. I realized that going through the challenges of being eliminated the year before made this achievement more rewarding than if it had all just happened perfectly as I scripted in my head.

We ribboned again at our next show, a return to Spring Gulch where the announcer filling in while I competed made sure to remind the crowd, “Hey, everybody, fingers crossed Jonathan and Moo stay in the arena.” One of the dressage judges, whom I knew through my role of announcing the show as well, told me that she caught glimpses of my dressage test from the other arena while judging a rider in her arena to see what fireworks there might be in my test.

So, lesson learned, right? I appreciated how my failures made my successes more rewarding and embraced the importance of both Grantland Rice's “how you played the game” and Vince Lombardi's “winning.”

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Just as things were starting to click for Sorority Girl and me, I started retraining a Thoroughbred straight off the track, the young 2016 bay filly Cubbie Girl North, who has provided me with a roller coaster ride that I've been chronicling during a roller coaster 2020 in this “Thoroughbred Makeover Diaries” series.

Looking back on our first year of retraining, I realize it would have been absurd to think that “winning” should be on the table immediately given that Cubbie was completely new to eventing and I was still learning. While I appreciated some of the moments where we would click, I wasn't appreciating the end result.

Things came to a head at Spring Gulch in August when we finished with an improved score, but I was sour about the mistakes a green-horse-with-green-rider combination are inevitably going to make. Instead of seeing the progress, I saw the failure — even though nearly everyone that has followed our journey has been encouraging.

Ashley sternly and tactfully told me that I was entirely missing the point of eventing and that if I continued to be this way at shows that I could get someone else to coach me at them.

That's when I made the biggest change and the most progress in my three years of competing. It didn't come from adjusting how I rode or what equipment I used or anything physical between me and my horses. It came from embracing what the sport is all about and why the people that compete are so attracted to it. It came from putting more of an emphasis on how I played the game over winning the game.

I started changing my focus to how much fun it was to travel to shows, especially if I was also announcing, and on how rewarding it was to spend time doing what I love with the horses and people that mean so much to me, especially on the adrenaline-inducing cross country courses.

This all took the pressure off winning, but, frankly, winning is incredibly elusive in eventing. The sport requires nearly flawless dressage, cross country, and stadium jumping rounds where one missed movement or one dropped rail can knock a competitor down the standings. At the USEF CCI4*-L Eventing National Championship — the highest level offered in the United States this year — held at Tryon, N.C., this month, a rail that fell on the very final fence knocked leader Elisabeth Halliday-Sharp and Deniro Z from first to fifth.

With a new outlook on the sport, I did manage some good results. Sorority Girl and I finished on our dressage score in seventh of 16 at Beginner Novice at The Event at Archer in August. Then, we moved up to the Novice level of 2-feet-11 and again finish on our dressage in sixth of 18 at The Event at Archer in September.

Horowitz and Cubbie go through the water at the Event at Archer

However, the “result” I'm most proud of came during the first time I've traveled a long distance for a show to the Windermere Run Horse Trials in Missouri a month ago. That was also the first time that I've competed two horses at a recognized event—perhaps because it was the first time in more than a year that I wasn't also announcing.

Needless to say, we didn't get the “results” as Lombardi would have liked.

About two minutes before Cubbie and I were scheduled to enter the dressage arena for our Beginner Novice test, Ashley asked me to try to take up more contact on the reins during our warmup. Three days prior, Cubbie told me exactly how she felt about contact on the reins when she ran me into the walls of the arena on our farm. So now at our final show together for the season, she planted her feet and decided not to move.

“Don't do anything,” Ashley said. “Just go in and get through the test.”

We pulled off the second-worst dressage score in the entire competition across all levels. The dressage scribe, a friend that had traveled with us from Colorado and was volunteering at the show, told me that the judge, whom I also knew from announcing at previous shows she's worked at, turned to her during my test and said, “I thought Jonathan was a better rider than this.”

It's true. I did no actual riding because I really had no other option if I was going to finish the test. We even scored a 1.0 out of 10 for one of our movements that I knew Cubbie and I were doing wrong but knew she would not allow me to correct. However, after this glorious performance, we had clear cross country and stadium jumping rounds because Cubbie likes to jump and I could effectively manage her crappy attitude for those disciplines.

Sorority Girl and I competed at Novice at Windermere and had a good dressage test for where we're at, as well as a clear stadium jumping round. However, we had two refusals during the last three jumps on cross country.

“I need five minutes, and then I'll be good,” I told Ashley when I came off course, determined to appreciate what went positively and not dwell on what went negatively.

“That's fair,” Ashley responded.

What I ultimately took away was how this was a learning opportunity. I had slowed our tempo at the end of the course because I was worried about getting speed faults. Sorority Girl took my cue and backed off, so she, understandably, wasn't as bold as she had been for the first three-quarters of the course. For those keeping score, we ended up last of 13 in our division.

We fixed this the next month at the Texas Rose Horse Park Fall Horse Trials and went clear on cross country with a more consistent pace that helped my mare gain more confidence as we progressed through the course. I had my best finish ever at any event, placing fifth of 11 at Novice and, unexpectedly but happily, taking home a large pink ribbon.

Travel to events can be hundreds of miles, and there's a significant cost when you add up transportation, lodging for people and horses, entry fees, and more. The time actually spent competing across all three disciplines of an event is a total of about 10 minutes. However, there's so much more—the experience, the camaraderie, the bond we get to have with these special animals through the moments that click and the moments that frustrate—that make eventers so addicted to the game.

After three years and 12 recognized events, I'm glad that I've finally learned how to play the game.

The post Thoroughbred Makeover Diaries Presented By Excel Equine: Horowitz Learns That In Eventing, Winning Isn’t Everything appeared first on Horse Racing News | Paulick Report.

Source of original post

Verified by MonsterInsights