that girl who rides the horses that dance

In mid-May, I had the TV switched to the NBC Sports Network where I was watching the 2015 Preakness Stakes. American Pharoah broke from the gate quickly and drew away to take the lead down the muddy track. He held the lead into the first turn and straightened away in the backstretch. The sloppy track was making me nervous, and shortly before heading into the final turn, the field caught up with American Pharoah. I sighed. His Triple Crown journey would end. I had been expecting this.

But then American Pharoah drew away again, galloped down the homestretch and under the wire to win the Preakness Stakes by a commanding seven lengths.

American Pharoah holds off Mr. Z in the 140th Preakness Stakes. Photo by Winslow Townson of USA Today Sports

And as you all know, three weeks later, American Pharoah led from wire to wire to take the 2015 Belmont Stakes, ending a thirty-seven year Triple Crown drought.

American Pharoah with Victor Espinzoa aboard, sweeping the final jewel of the Triple Crown. Photo by Timothy A. Clary

I learned the majority of the technical aspects of riding on a hot-headed, sensitive off-the-track Thoroughbred named Teddy. I learned that if I tried to slow him down using my hands, he would refuse to back down, and would take off. Through practice, I learned to sit back, squeeze the reins, and apply some leg. Teddy would magically slow down to a more manageable speed. So instead of careening around the hunter ring at a jumper speed, I was able to collect him for flying changes and to put the right number of strides in a line. I was able to easily ride a line of bounces and one-strides without worrying that he would try to leap over two bounces at once.

The Tedster kicking booty in Short Stirrup at Steeplehill, June 2004 Dear George Morris, help me put my heels down.

Ted Ted schooling at home, March 2005. Dear George Morris, pray for my lower leg.

One of my last lessons on Teddy, May 2005. Dear George Morris, help me find some rust-colored breeches so that I may never ride in shorts again.

When Teddy retired and I started riding Bucky, transitioning into dressage, I learned that this technique worked as well, for a different reason. Bucky was slow enough (some would say he is too slow!) but he was heavy on the forehand. My arms and shoulders would ache from fighting to keep him from dragging his nose on the ground. Through careful coaching, I learned that this same technique would help him shift his weight from his front to his hindquarters, the powerhouse of the horse. Our dressage scores, averaging in the low to mid sixties, took a ten-point jump to the low to mid seventies, and our collective marks increased. As we advanced in our training, with a squeeze of the reins, a small adjustment to my seat, and an applied leg, Bucky was able to come off the forehand, roll his energy toward the hindquarters, lift his front end, cross over his front legs in a large circle, and follow along in a second, smaller circle with his hind legs in a canter pirouette, a move not seen until the Fourth Level or Prix St Georges in dressage.

Dressage lesson on the Buckster, March 2007

I had very well-defined biceps thanks to this horse.

Training Level Test 1 - State 2007

Transforming - September 2007

Mr. Personality at the TTC Dressage Show, September 2008

Bucky, clinicing with Robin Brueckmann, October 2008

Warming up with light contact, January 2009

College-bound frumpyjellyfish takes one last lesson on Bucky before heading off to RIT August, 2009

Ringo, while he is a little inexperienced, is a very beautiful mover, with a big trot and a huge canter. He carries himself perfectly. He's an all-around gorgeous horse, and he knows it. And he's very proud. So as I squeeze the reins and apply a little leg before sitting down and driving him forward with my seat, he explodes in an extended trot, often crossing the diagonal of the arena in a few strides. I gently squeeze the reins again, and he collects himself around the short end of the arena.

Green bean Ringo's first dressage lesson! August 2009

Bean's first dressage lesson - isn't he cute?

BIG TROT! June 2010

Rocking horse canter July 2011

Big-boy wraps and pad! July 2011

This technique is called the half-halt.

So, what's the point, you may ask. What does a Triple Crown winner have to do with an ex-racehorse-turned-jumper-turned-hunter, with a dressage horse heavy on the forehand, and with a very big mover?

The point is - as American Pharoah turned into the final turn of the Preakness Stakes and the field caught up with him, his jockey had squeezed on the reins, slowing him down and giving him a breather before allowing him to extend his stride and win the Preakness decisively.

The point is - to keep control, I learned how to squeeze on the reins, to sit back and apply a little leg to remind Teddy that I was still the boss, that he should take the seven stride line in seven strides, not four, and that he needed to do a clean change in the corner instead of cross-firing.

The point is - to avoid having my horse tumble head over heels, I needed to squeeze the reins, sit back, and apply leg to remind Bucky to lift his head, lean back, and transfer the energy to his hindquarters for increased impulsion.

The point is - as I came around the corner and squeezed the reins, sitting back, Ringo was able to take a breath before pulling out all the stops on his flashy stride.

The point is - no matter the situation, everyone needs a half halt, to take a little breather. And once that has been done, things can go as proceeded.

I used to think that life was a full sprint. One would erupt from the crib, race through school, plunge headfirst into college, shake off the water (and debt), do a front flip into graduate school, and then leap into the workforce.

Living in the Hudson Valley has taught me that it's okay to ease back on the reins, to shift the energy, to take a big, deep breath.

You know what? Maybe life isn't a sprint. It's not a marathon either. It's not a leapfrog race, or a potato sack race. It's a journey. And you don't rush through a journey (unless you're Frodo trying to destroy the Ring, then yeah, you might want to hurry up a little).

Lots of love for my little state winner! Bucky, State 2007