…is knowing where to go.
Part of the fun of endurance for me is all the stuff that it can entail. My motto is, “If you can’t ride fast, ride pretty.”
I think this picture makes my point:
…is knowing where to go.
Part of the fun of endurance for me is all the stuff that it can entail. My motto is, “If you can’t ride fast, ride pretty.”
I think this picture makes my point:
Warning: Somewhat delicate, feminine subject matter at hand. To whit: Sports bras and the things they’re designed to contain. If you’re of a delicate nature or have no need of such discussion, please feel free to skip this post. It may get a bit TMI at times:)
To those that are still reading…here’s a topic that’s near and dear to my heart.
*pause for really bad pun* (There’s a reason I shouldn’t write posts past 7:00 at night. And yet, I still do. Besides, I’m waiting for laundry to finish, and it’s either blog or watch “South Park.” I shouldn’t admit “South Park” is on in the background.)
I’m rather…well-endowed…in the feminine assets area. 5’4″, long legs for my height, short torso…but 34D up top.
The majority of my riding wardrobe has been really easy to find. Not had a problem with riding tights rubbing, I can comfortably ride in just about any shirt, and shoes have been a success. But finding effective sports bras has been something of a challenge.
Y’know the old saying about having the choice of cheap, correct, and fast, but you can only pick two? Sports bras are something like that. Cheap, effective, and easy to find.
In my experience, “effective” has been about the only qualification I can hope for, with “easy to find” being a distant second. And I’ve long since resigned myself to paying out the nose for what I do find. But it’s one of those things that’s non-negotiable. Trying to ride in a sports bra that doesn’t work? Isn’t. Going. To. Happen.
One of my favorite brands of sports bras is Moving Comfort. Manufacturer recommendations are to replace bras every year. I…don’t do that. Yeah, they’re less effective after three or four years…but when I pay $50+ for one, I’m going to make sure I get my money’s worth. I also don’t pay attention to the instructions of “don’t stick them in the dryer.”
You can buy directly from Moving Comfort, but they’re also stocked by places like REI. I’ve gotten quite a few of mine from Title Nine, because of their very generous return policy (one year, no questions) that I’ve never actually had to use. T9 stocks the Moving Comfort bras, listed under their own creative names for them. (I included the MC name in parenthesis when applicable.)
I’ve had good luck with (given them my star rating):
– the 3-Reasons Support Bra (MC: Fiona) ****
– a cotton version of the Tech Athena ****
– the 2-in-1 Full-Support (MC: Maia) (love, love, love this one; probably my current favorite) *****
– a front-closure version of the Hallelujah ***
– the Super Lace ***
– the newest addition: MC Phoebe (amazingly found this one on clearance at a sporting goods store and surprisingly effective) ****
I’ve got a couple others in my drawer from T9, but I don’t use them for riding.
I’ve got my eye on:
– the Trade-Up
– the 7 Wonders
– the Last Resort (a good name for it…I know several people that have been happy with this one, but I’m keeping it as my last resort)
Not a super in-depth review, but this is a topic that is really personal in that what works for one person may not work for the next. My advice is either buy them in-person where you can try them on (jumping jacks in the dressing room is a good acid test for posting) or buy them from a place with a good return policy.
ETA: So I completely forgot to add my new favorite source for shopping: amazon.com. Yeah. Seriously. For up to half off. So check amazon first.
(Author’s Note: Wow, this turned into a long post of my ramblings about personal saddle discoveries I’ve made over the years, because I’ve literally been working on it, off and on, all day. I think there’s a point to it. It might just be buried somewhere in there.)
So I grew up with the riding school of thought that said it didn’t matter what the saddle was like, you learned to ride through it. As long as the seat vaguely fit, there was no such thing as taking into account the saddle’s natural balance, leg position, and whether or not it truly fit.
When you end up riding in three different saddles over the course of one show day, and spending a lot of time climbing in and out of those saddle in between classes, it’s easier to adopt that school of thought, and when you subsequently watch videos of yourself riding, just chastise yourself for not spending enough time working on keeping that lower leg still.
Must ride without stirrups more, was a common thought.
Imagine my surprise when I got into distance riding and learned that, Wow, improper saddle fit was making this a lot more uncomfortable than it really has to be. Also on the “Why Did I Learn This Sooner?” list was the concept that things like rise and twist in a saddle make a huge difference in lower leg stability and the ability to retain one’s position instead of falling forward in a heap every time a certain pony would root her head and yank forward on the reins.
I can stop my horse without completely falling apart, position-wise?
It was a revelation.
Never mind the fact it took several years of distance riding, quite a few hours in the saddle, and going through multiple saddles before all these little revelations finally connected in my brain.
Hey, maybe there’s a reason for the fact I’m constantly fighting for a proper position and balance, other than the fact I might just suck as a rider?
But it’s made for an interesting look back at old ride photos and such.
Not going through my old show photos, mostly because they’re a disorganized mess. Someday I’ll get them sorted into photo albums. Today’s not that day.
But I rode in five different saddles when I was showing:
A Circle Y Western Equitation saddle. After Mimi and I both outgrew the first one, I got pretty much the same saddle, in a larger size and with more silver. I couldn’t help but have decent equitation in this saddler, especially the second one. The leather on it was so thick, stiff, and pre-formed, my legs weren’t going anywhere. It was just a matter of keeping my upper body in roughly the same hemisphere as my legs.
When I started, I already had a saddle: a Miller Collegiate Close Contact. I actually had the saddle long before I had the horse…my parents got it for me the first year I started riding. So I literally grew up with that saddle. It worked for Mimi and I for several years, and then my legs finally outgrew that saddle. (I was very excited about this. I was really quite short for my age until about halfway through high school. Now I’m just short-approaching-average. But I’ve gotten over it, mostly because it means I can still ride ponies.)
That saddle was literally the classic definition of “postage stamp of leather.” No knee rolls, very flat seat. No wonder the horse I rode for that first year was able to launch me with such ease. Short little legs didn’t offer a lot of grip, and virtually nothing by way of saddle security.
I replaced that saddle with a Stubben and finished out my show career in that one. Mimi eventually outgrew it, though, and by the time we were done showing, it was definitely too narrow for her. I hung on to that saddle for a number of years, out of sentimental value, and finally just sold it about a year and half ago…to my friend Kaity. So I know it’s in good hands and being used instead of gathering dust in my bedroom. And it was a step up from “postage stamp”: tiny knee rolls and a flat seat. These days, I’ve found that while I still adore and prefer an English-style saddle, I like more security in the form of a deeper seat and substantial knee rolls.
And of course I had my Big Horn Barrel saddle. I used this for most of my lessons and for running gymkhana at the shows. When I started distance riding, this was what I started with. It got me through all of our conditioning up to our first NATRC ride, through the first ride, as well as the next one. All in all, I probably did distance in that saddle for about a year.
Shall we play several rounds of “What’s Wrong With This Equitation?” with some of my old ride pics? (I apologize for the quality…I should have scanned the pics before I stuck them all in an album. Actually, I did have them scanned. And then the computer ate/wiped the flash drive they were on. Nice.)
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| photo by Jane Gray Impressions |
Awww, our first NATRC ride, First of Spring, April 2002, El Cajon, CA. Gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the pony have that much knee action. Sooo, the rider. This one does a really good job of illustrating the faults I tend to make: I lean too far forward., and my legs swing too far back. Back then, I was also still in my “jockey-esque stirrup” phase left over from many years of huntseat riding, in which I equated shorter stirrups with great security. Not always the case…but that one took me a long time to figure out.
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| photo by Jane Gray Impressions |
First of Spring NATRC, April 2003, Warner Springs, CA. New saddle! Well, next saddle after the Big Horn. After surviving two NATRC rides without the pony having a meltdown, I felt more comfortable exploring saddle options that didn’t include the pseudo-security blanket of a Western saddle. One of my knees was also occupying the Complaint Department on a regular basis, so I wanted the flexibility of English leathers again. Plus, I started riding English…riding an English saddle and the accompanying equitation is as natural to me as breathing.
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Still leaning a bit forward…it’s a chronic problem. But I’ve actually got my leg on the horse and in a good position. Because I’m not fighting the saddle and fighting for security, it also means less fighting with the pony.
Y’all know I collect pretty much anything and everything I can get my hands on related to Tevis, especially stories and articles.
I think it’s safe to say spring is here, based solely on my pony’s behavior. She was bad, bad, bad on Saturday. Actually, I take that back. The day started off somewhat inauspiciously when I went to collect her from the pasture and she wandered off to the far back corner.
She was actually pretty good under saddle, apart from offering the most half-a**ed, lazy canter ever. And deliberately trying to bang my foot and/or stirrup into the railing several times. And thinking that offering up several unasked-for flying lead changes might mean she finishes faster.
Sometimes I suspect I might have over-trained my pony, at least when it comes to anticipation and ringwork.
She was even good for working on her hooves afterwards. After the past couple times of trimming, I’ve not been thrilled with her feet. Nothing concrete I can pin down, just that they weren’t quite there. I suspect I might have been getting a bit too enthusiastic with the bar and sole removal…again. It’s a challenge, because her bars grow incredibly fast, and after her abscess a year and half ago, I’m paranoid about “stuff” getting trapped up in her sole again.
You’d think an abscess is the end of the world the way I keep going on about it. But hey, give me a break. That was the first abscess I’ve ever dealt with.
So this time, I took a very conservative, “If it can’t come off with nippers and a hoof pick, it’s staying in there” approach. I also wonder too sometimes if I keep trimming her feet down to what I’m expecting they “should” be — Little Ms. Tiny Feet — instead of letting them grow and expand. Because it wasn’t like she had excess flare to remove, or ridiculously high heels this time.
Once again, I forgot to take pics. Fail.
But I was happier with how they looked this time. A couple small chunks of loose sole came out with a nudge of the hoofpick, then I rasped her walls down, paying special attention to balance (I can balance better with a rasp than with nippers, I will say that) and putting a really good roll on her edges.
We’ll see what they look like in a week or so.
There’s always something to be learned about this hoof trimming thing, and just about the time you think you have it figured out, the horse goes and does something to change it up on you.
But onto the “Bad Pony” part: After we were all done, we wandered out into the trail course to do some groundwork. I figured it would be fun to let her “play”: do a couple circles and hop over a low telephone pole. She figured it would be more fun to eat. That was Discussion One, which ended with me popping her in the butt with the end of the lead rope.
Not Happy.
Then we examined the pole. Telephone pole, probably about a foot tall. She could trip step over it in her sleep. Examined it from both sides, then asked her to trot over it. From one direction, she hopped over it twice, looking pleased with herself.
Reversed directions, trotted at it, and right at the base of it, slammed on the brakes and moved to wheel away. She was blocked by the fence on one side and me on the other, and she’s finally learned that the consequences of running into me are far greater than whatever she’s trying to avoid.
So she backed up, then tried to wheel away. Didn’t get anywhere. Made her go at it again. Repeat. Never mind this is something low enough for her to step over from a standstill. Backed her away from the whole thing and asked her to circle around her. She shook her head. I swung the lead rope at her. She backed up a bit, pinned her ears, then hopped up in a little baby-rear a couple of times.
Well.
This used to be her favorite trick as a defiant, attitudinal youngster……about 12 or 13 years ago. She’s a bossy, dominant mare who really hates the “submission” game. I rarely ask for full submission, mostly because I’m much more into an active partnership type of relationship in which both of us are committed to working together, versus one in which I control every second, every footfall, every thought. Quite frankly, I want a horse with an independent mind and ability to think for themselves and make smart decisions. (“No, you idiot, you just tried to steer us over a cliff” comes to mind…)
But I won’t tolerate that kind of blatant disrespect. When it comes right down to it, I am the herd leader and I will act on it.
So I popped her on the nose with the leadrope. I don’t advocate aiming at the head in most situations…but she’s dominant enough to need an immediate I Mean Business wake-up call. It worked: she moved away from me, did a couple of circles, then hopped over the log.
And we ended it there on a good note.
I was kind of shocked, and I think she was, too. It’s been years since we’ve had that big of a disciplinary blow-up and subsequent schooling session. Guess it just goes to show that horses aren’t static creatures who properly stay within the mold we try to craft them into. And they’re all capable of reverting back to temporary “Problem Child” status.
And I think we’ll avoid doing too much inflammatory groundwork while it’s spring and she’s in a Mood.
Someone please remind me why I like mares.