Dang, Dressage is Hard

I had one of those "I'm going to cry" moments today during my lesson. I haven't cried (out of frustration) during a riding lesson in years, so this kind of surprised me. Nicole's always great about telling me in detail about my progress, so it had nothing to do with her. It was just plain old, "why am I still struggling with this"--this being true throughness of the horse over his back, and my own shortcomings, which include but are not limited to: busy hands, a droopy left shoulder, and a general lack of coordination.

Dang dressage is hard.

"I only want to make it easier for you, so you can feel it," she said, when she suggested she get on.
I waffled, but then decided she was right. Why torture the poor horse when she could get him forward and off my leg and over his back in just a few minutes. It was then, as I watched her, six or seven years younger than me, graceful and coordinated, that I welled up and turned away. I'd give anything to retrace my riding years and get that good, that young. Only now I'm middle aged and only now I'm figuring this out, despite being on horses since I was 12. It is a journey, I know, but sometimes I think I'm running in place.

The lesson ended well-- I got back on and found a nice, soft, round horse. We did a little half pass here and a flying change there. B seemed like he was in a good mood, and certainly he was moving much better than he had been in the beginning of the lesson. Although I don't mind so much when the trainer gets on the horse, I always feel a bit discouraged that it isn't me that did the fixing.