"I swear I didn't knock all those jumps." Amy Smyth
giddyup
Last to be picked: In which our hero tries his hand at... dressage and show-jumping
After a summer spent deriding dressage as ‘horse-walking’, Steven O’Rourke saddled up to try it himself in the first in a new series of sporting adventures.
Save for one glorious run to a South Kildare U16 football title, Steven O’Rourke hasn’t been very good at sports. Last to be picked will, therefore, see him try out a new sport every month in 2013 to see what he missed out on.
IT’S 10AM ON a bitterly cold New Year’s Day. After a night of partying, I’ve woken up surprisingly clear-headed.
My stomach, on the other hand, may as well be in Funderland.
It’s not, however, the result of too much alcohol. The knot in my stomach is down to nerves and my nerves, in turn, are down to Jimmy.
Right now, he’s too busy wondering why his daily routine has been broken to concern himself with me. I move a bit closer to get him used to my scent. I don’t know if that works for horses but it tends to help dogs relax so I reckon it’s worth a try.
It’s only when I’m standing directly beside him that I realise how big he actually is. Like all horses, today is Jimmy’s birthday and he has just turned 20. With the exception of a recently removed front tooth, he’s in very good health. Standing 16.1 hands high and weighing in at about 500kg, he’s not the biggest horse I’ve ever seen, but he’s the biggest I’ve ever had to get on the back of.
Jimmy – or ‘Hundred Percent’ to give him his official name – is a chestnut gelding of Russian origin. His owner, Aileen Bryan, has had him since 2001. Together, they have amassed a number of notable wins on the Irish 1m 10cm (the height of the jumps) amateur circuit, including at the Blessington and Boswell Amateur Grand Prixes while, outside of Ireland, they have competed in the Royal International Horse Show in Hickstead and were placed in 1m 20cm class on the Spring Tour in Arezzo, Italy.
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‘How do you start this thing?’
Aileen, who has been riding for 22 years, has also been successful on a number of other horses and qualified for the RDS twice at amateur level as well as winning the Amateur Grand Prix classes at shows such as South County Dublin, Kilkenny, Blessington, Kill and Bel Air.
Out of retirement
Jimmy has been retired for three years though, so Aileen decides the best thing she can do is take him out first to get him used to having a saddle and rider on his back again. While she’s trotting around the ring, my friends Rachel and Jo – both of whom are also very involved with horses and show-jumping – are giving me the tips and tricks they normally reserve for the children they teach.
My wife Amy, who is here to photograph everything, calmly reminds me not to break anything. Given my history of nearly 10 separate limb breakages over the years, it’s sound advice.
When the time comes to mount Jimmy, I realise it’s not a simple as the jockeys in the parade rings at Leopardstown or Aintree make it look. Instead, I resort to a step and when I finally settle into the saddle I realise just how high up I’m sitting.
In an effort to calm my nerves, I sing ‘My Lovely Horse’ over and over in my head. It doesn’t work.
The first thing I learn is that pulling back on the reins to get them to a comfortable length is not a smart move when your feet aren’t fully in the stirrups. To my surprise, Jimmy starts moving backwards because that’s what he’s been trained to do when someone pulls on his reins. Luckily, Aileen has him on a rope at the moment so my panic is short-lived.
Information overload
The sheer volume of information I have to take on board is overwhelming at first. The ball of my feet should sit in the stirrups, in a straight line with my knees and my heels down. My calves should be pressed in tight to Jimmy’s body. My back, prone to slouching from years spent hunched over a keyboard, should be straight while I should hold the reins high and tight, my arms perpendicular to my legs and my hands shaped like I’m holding two mugs of coffee.
And this is just to stand still.
As tempting as it is to shout ‘hi-ho Silver, away’, I’m told this is frowned upon. After I finally listen to the advice that squeezing my right leg against Jimmy will get him moving, we are under way. We do a couple of circuits just walking before slowly moving up to a trot. Jimmy has a habit of turning his head to the right which wouldn’t be such a problem if we weren’t circling in an anti-clockwise direction.
After a while, we try to see how much control I have over Jimmy by getting him to walk in different directions. It’s not easy and I can’t help but feel embarrassed by everything I said about dressage during the London Olympics. Just getting a horse to move for you is difficult; never mind doing it in time to music and in front of hundreds of people.
‘I think I’m getting the hang of this.’
Success
Before we finish up, I’m determined to jump something so Aileen and Rachel set a pole about 15cm off the ground. I knock it the first three times but on my fourth attempt, success. My work here is done.
I may not be threatening the Irish equestrian squad for Rio 2016 just yet, but after just an hour, I have a much better appreciation for the difficulty involved in both dressage and show-jumping. There’s much more to it than the rider being, essentially, ballast; sitting on the horse and pointing it in the direction they want it to go.
Will I try it again? Absolutely. Next time though, I reckon I can clear at least 30cm.
Last to be picked: In which our hero tries his hand at... dressage and show-jumping
Save for one glorious run to a South Kildare U16 football title, Steven O’Rourke hasn’t been very good at sports. Last to be picked will, therefore, see him try out a new sport every month in 2013 to see what he missed out on.
IT’S 10AM ON a bitterly cold New Year’s Day. After a night of partying, I’ve woken up surprisingly clear-headed.
My stomach, on the other hand, may as well be in Funderland.
It’s not, however, the result of too much alcohol. The knot in my stomach is down to nerves and my nerves, in turn, are down to Jimmy.
Right now, he’s too busy wondering why his daily routine has been broken to concern himself with me. I move a bit closer to get him used to my scent. I don’t know if that works for horses but it tends to help dogs relax so I reckon it’s worth a try.
It’s only when I’m standing directly beside him that I realise how big he actually is. Like all horses, today is Jimmy’s birthday and he has just turned 20. With the exception of a recently removed front tooth, he’s in very good health. Standing 16.1 hands high and weighing in at about 500kg, he’s not the biggest horse I’ve ever seen, but he’s the biggest I’ve ever had to get on the back of.
Jimmy – or ‘Hundred Percent’ to give him his official name – is a chestnut gelding of Russian origin. His owner, Aileen Bryan, has had him since 2001. Together, they have amassed a number of notable wins on the Irish 1m 10cm (the height of the jumps) amateur circuit, including at the Blessington and Boswell Amateur Grand Prixes while, outside of Ireland, they have competed in the Royal International Horse Show in Hickstead and were placed in 1m 20cm class on the Spring Tour in Arezzo, Italy.
‘How do you start this thing?’
Aileen, who has been riding for 22 years, has also been successful on a number of other horses and qualified for the RDS twice at amateur level as well as winning the Amateur Grand Prix classes at shows such as South County Dublin, Kilkenny, Blessington, Kill and Bel Air.
Out of retirement
Jimmy has been retired for three years though, so Aileen decides the best thing she can do is take him out first to get him used to having a saddle and rider on his back again. While she’s trotting around the ring, my friends Rachel and Jo – both of whom are also very involved with horses and show-jumping – are giving me the tips and tricks they normally reserve for the children they teach.
My wife Amy, who is here to photograph everything, calmly reminds me not to break anything. Given my history of nearly 10 separate limb breakages over the years, it’s sound advice.
When the time comes to mount Jimmy, I realise it’s not a simple as the jockeys in the parade rings at Leopardstown or Aintree make it look. Instead, I resort to a step and when I finally settle into the saddle I realise just how high up I’m sitting.
The first thing I learn is that pulling back on the reins to get them to a comfortable length is not a smart move when your feet aren’t fully in the stirrups. To my surprise, Jimmy starts moving backwards because that’s what he’s been trained to do when someone pulls on his reins. Luckily, Aileen has him on a rope at the moment so my panic is short-lived.
Information overload
The sheer volume of information I have to take on board is overwhelming at first. The ball of my feet should sit in the stirrups, in a straight line with my knees and my heels down. My calves should be pressed in tight to Jimmy’s body. My back, prone to slouching from years spent hunched over a keyboard, should be straight while I should hold the reins high and tight, my arms perpendicular to my legs and my hands shaped like I’m holding two mugs of coffee.
And this is just to stand still.
As tempting as it is to shout ‘hi-ho Silver, away’, I’m told this is frowned upon. After I finally listen to the advice that squeezing my right leg against Jimmy will get him moving, we are under way. We do a couple of circuits just walking before slowly moving up to a trot. Jimmy has a habit of turning his head to the right which wouldn’t be such a problem if we weren’t circling in an anti-clockwise direction.
After a while, we try to see how much control I have over Jimmy by getting him to walk in different directions. It’s not easy and I can’t help but feel embarrassed by everything I said about dressage during the London Olympics. Just getting a horse to move for you is difficult; never mind doing it in time to music and in front of hundreds of people.
‘I think I’m getting the hang of this.’
Success
Before we finish up, I’m determined to jump something so Aileen and Rachel set a pole about 15cm off the ground. I knock it the first three times but on my fourth attempt, success. My work here is done.
I may not be threatening the Irish equestrian squad for Rio 2016 just yet, but after just an hour, I have a much better appreciation for the difficulty involved in both dressage and show-jumping. There’s much more to it than the rider being, essentially, ballast; sitting on the horse and pointing it in the direction they want it to go.
Will I try it again? Absolutely. Next time though, I reckon I can clear at least 30cm.
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