I’ve reached new levels of horsey parenting. Long reining the rehab pony is easy; having the toddler on reins isn’t so straightforward! I have started telling her to “walk on” too …
At baby swimming last year I noticed that there was a theme of threes. Each exercise or song was repeated three times. Since then, it’s been in the back of my mind and I’ve noticed this occurring in other areas of learning, and even with my own teaching. I’ve found that whilst I don’t have to explain something three times, it usually takes clients three attempts to fully grasp an exercise, or I have to remind or make a correction three times in quick succession before they manage to make a long term adjustment to their riding.
I googled it to see if there is a learning theory for threes, and there doesn’t seem to be a widely accepted one, but I saw several articles citing that learners need to be given three opportunities to learn something.
I don’t think you want to stick too closely to repeating an exercise three times, in case it goes wrong. You almost want three decent attempts at an exercise before increasing its difficulty or changing it. Ignore the duff ones when horse or rider lost concentration at the beginning. Likewise, if a rider has tried an exercise three times unsuccessfully, it might be wise to change your explanation or simplify things. If you’re just warming up, for example when moving from flat to jumping I usually trot or canter over some poles first, purely to change the horse’s focus. An established horse and rider only need do that once, especially when used to using poles as a subject transition.
Last week I was teaching a young girl who is growing in confidence in her riding, and I keep mentioning the C-word. Cantering, you rude readers!! Until now she’s baulked at the idea, but this time she said she was “nervous but not scared”.
Great. So I talked her through where we were going to trot, what she was going to hold on to, and what to do whilst cantering. I didn’t worry her five year old brain with the transition aids at this moment, after all, I was leading her.
We set off and the first attempt had one stride of canter. Maybe. But on the plus side, no shrieking and she seemed happy enough. Second time we had half a dozen canter strides and her au pair got it on video for her Mum. I announced we were going to do it one more time.
“Why? I don’t want to do it again.”
“Ah well, we have to do it three times because the first is really wobbly and not very good, the second one is better, and the third time even better!”
“Oh okay. Why don’t we do it five times?”
“Because I don’t have enough puff to run that fast five times.”
The third canter was longer, and she was starting to find her seat. So I left it on a positive note. She can reflect on the canter when telling her parents over dinner.
We moved on to jumping. Well practising our jumping position over tiny cross poles, to finish the lesson. My rider told me she wanted to do level four jumping. That means a cross on the fourth from bottom hole. Which we haven’t done before. So I humoured her, saying we needed to start lower and build up to it. I put the cross on the second hole and we went over it a couple of times. Three probably, let’s face it. And she was staying balanced over the jump and quiet! When I put the cross pole up a hole, my rider said she didn’t want to do level four. So I said that was fine. We did it once, successfully, and called her au pair to watch the second go. Unfortunately she didn’t get it on video. This was the conversation we had:
“We need to do it again so she gets it on video. But. But, what if she doesn’t get it … will you have enough puff to do it again so I do get a video to show Mummy?”
“Yes, I’m sure I’ll have enough energy to do the jump twice more if we need to. Now, are you ready?”
How sweet is that?! I was then that I realised I tended to use the rule of three when teaching. Perhaps I should be developing the Learning Theory of Three. Publish a book and make my fortune …
I’ve got a little anecdote to cheer you up on a dreary Friday.
You know those lovely properties with long drives and electric gates? Well it’s not a problem entering, you just hop out and type in the code then the gates open and you drive out. When you leave, the gate sensors recognise you’re a car a open automatically.
However, when you’re on a horse, it’s a different story. For some gates I’ve had a little key fob which I just press to open the gates. Some I just get on after going through the gates. For others I have to rely on being let out and then just get off to key in the code and get back in. One horse I walk right up to the keypad, lean down to enter the number, and hope no cars roar up behind us on the road!
Last week, I saw the nanny in the house before I went to tack up one of the horses I ride out. I asked her if she could let me out when I had gotten onto the drive. Or avenue, as it it lined with trees. However, as I was tacking up I decided to swap the stirrups over as I hadn’t been able to get them just right. This took me a few minutes and as I let myself out of the stable block onto the drive, I could see the large iron gates were already open.
The horse I was riding is lovely, but on the way out on hacks his mind does tend to be on his stable and dinner. When we’ve had a trot and canter he’s up for it. Anyway, we ambled down the drive and, when we reached two thirds of the way down, the gates slowly started to creak shut!
With a couple of pony club style kicks, we broke into joggy trot, closing in on the gates… as they closed just in front of our nose!
“That’ll be four faults for a refusal!” shouts this voice behind me, accompanied with a laugh. Two gardeners had put down their tools to watch me race to the gates! The rather portly one, still laughing, made his way slowly to the large iron gates. Of course, he couldn’t open them from the inside but somehow (and I repeat somehow) he squeezed between the wall which the gates are affixed to, and the wooden fence bordering the property, and went round to the other side of the gates, and typed in the code to let me out. And let himself back in in the process.
I’m glad I provided them with a couple of laughs, but I’m also very glad they were there because I don’t think I could face the embarrassment of going back to the house to ask to be let out!
Hopefully soon I’ll have authorised access to open the gates from my phone, which will make life far less complicated. First world problems, eh?