Overcoming Anxiety: The Power of Relationships
It has been over 12 weeks now since my accident on my young horse Revel. While I am certain that we will face future challenges together, my hope is that this might be my last post about my physical and emotional recovery from that event. Since I last wrote about my recovery, I would like to say that I have been diligent about my recovery plan, riding and spending time with him. But, as is so often the case, life seems to have intervened and much of September was “lost” to other obligations. I continued riding other horses, fox hunting with my sons. And, when I could steal some time, I continued to play with Revel on the ground. As a result, I recovered both my general ease in the saddle and my joy in being with Revel. The dark cloud of the “event” largely faded to the background in my mind.
In October I recommitted to a plan and focused on riding Revel more consistently. Many things seemed to move forward quickly and positively. In a short period of time, we had regained any lost ground in our flat work. We started working on filling holes in his training and mine. Despite all of these positive gains and developments, I continued to experience a nagging low-level anxiety while riding him that ate away at my joy and sucked up a lot of my energy. I frequently felt really tired after a ride and, while I hate to admit it, I often felt relieved to dismount. I have written numerous times about the need for consistent exposure or engagement in an activity in order to overcome anxiety. I figured that it was just a matter time and things would get better. What I didn’t realize was that I was missing a key ingredient to my recovery.
Last weekend a good friend and talented horse trainer Michael Sparling was at my farm working with a delightfully challenging mustang mare to which he has committed himself to start under saddle. I saddled up Revel and kept him company while he worked with the mare. There was time for coaching, refinement, philosophizing and quiet conversation about life, horses and relationships. Over the course of three days I must have spent over twelve hours with or on Revel. Some of it standing and watching. Some of it working. Some of it playing. Some of it grooming. At some point in time during the second day, I had the awesome realization that my anxiety was gone. That I was feeling energized and refreshed by my time on Revel and the vague and draining feelings of dread had been banished to the farthest recesses of my mind.
The easiest way to explain how and why this change happened is to focus on the sheer amount of time I spent with my horse. It would certainly fit with most treatment models for anxiety where there is an appropriate level of exposure to the anxiety provoking stimulus that lasts long enough so that the initial surge of adrenaline with the accompanying angst has time to subside. I think that this is an important part of my experience last weekend but I feel certain it was not the whole picture.
If you have ever spent any time with young children, you will likely have had the experience of watching a toddler explore his or her universe. First comes the tentative steps away from mom, then they stop, turn and look back just to make sure someone is paying attention. Reassured that mom has “got their back” they turn away again to take more steps into the unknown. This process is a clear demonstration of the role that relationships play in our ability to take risks and confidently explore our world. The more consistent and trustworthy a caregiver is, the more comfortable and confident the child is likely to be in exploring their world. You might be asking what does this have to do with a middle-aged man recovering from a riding accident. The answer is everything.
It is an essential part of human nature to rely on relationships to provide a sense of safety and security. It is also an essential part of human nature to need to feel a basic sense of safety and security in order to challenge ourselves to step outside our comfort zone. If we are overly anxious, we tend to restrict our behavior to that which is comfortable and safe. We don’t need to feel completely safe to step out and explore, just safe enough. And, just as it was when we were children, relationships are the core source of this safety and comfort. I am convinced that it was the presence of a competent and trusted colleague and friend that provided the “safe enough” context for me to take the risk to step across those boundaries I had set for myself and recover my ease and confidence on Revel. Sure, the time and activity was essential, but none of it may have ever happened without the added support of a competent and trusted friend.
So, if you find yourself challenged with lingering worry or anxiety. Or, you feel stuck, unwilling or unable to take the next obvious steps forward. Rather than beating yourself up one more time for not being brave enough, ask yourself if you have the people who you need around you that will help you feel supported and safe enough to take the next step. Maybe this is a trusted friend that helps you to feel more emotionally safe, or a trusted trainer that you believe will help you to feel physically safe. Either way, take the responsibility to surround yourself with supportive relationships and you will more easily find the courage and motivation to challenge yourself and move forward.
Coming Home
This morning I find myself sitting quietly, soaking in the pre-dawn calm and beauty of Seneca Lake in western New York. Its been over ten years since my last lake-side vacation and I sit in wonderment at how I feel so at home and at peace in the Finger Lakes. As I gently whittled away the late afternoon hours yesterday with my sons, fishing pole in hand, I realized how much of my early life had been centered on “lake life.” The innumerable summer weeks spent at my grandparent’s lake cottage. The summer camping vacations, lakeside, at any one of a number of beautiful lakes in the Adirondack Mountains. The annual canoe trips and fishing trips with my father and my brother. It is no wonder that taking a soak in the lake melts away the years, lightens my heart, and restores my soul.
Over the last two weeks, since my last post on my recovery from my riding accident, I have been thinking a lot about the balance between pushing forward and the need to rest, recover and reward oneself for one’s efforts. It may seem simple at first. Push forward until you achieve a success and then reward yourself. But, fear and anxiety are tricky playmates. I was exhilarated and relieved after my first post-accident ride on my youngster. As with facing any anxiety or fear, that first step to get back in the saddle is a huge one. What I seem to have had forgotten, despite more than two decades helping people with their anxiety, is that overcoming anxiety is not a “once and done” proposition. I have to admit that, as challenging as it was to get back on the first time, the second and third rides were more personally challenging than the first.
A funny thing about anxiety is that there is nothing more comforting than to make it go away and no better way to make it go away than to withdraw from what makes you anxious. Thinking about this in terms of riding, if I get myself all worked up to face the challenge of the first ride back and then reward myself with a good long break before the next ride, I run the risk of reinforcing the “taking a break” behavior and making the next ride all the more anxiety provoking. It’s like inadvertently teaching a horse to pull back by releasing the pressure while they are panicking. The challenge or the art of recovery, where anxiety is involved, is to understand that it is a process that takes time and requires balance between the challenge and the reward so that you are neither over-faced nor overly withdrawn or backed away.
So what does all this have to do with soaking in a lake or fishing in the Finger Lakes? When we have had a fall or accident so much of our focus gets placed on overcoming the aspects of our riding experience that causes us anxiety and angst that we run the risk of forgetting all of the other aspects of our horse experience that bring us joy, comfort, fun and a sense of accomplishment. Just like I had forgotten the peace, comfort and rejuvenation that I feel on a lake, I initially over-focused on riding this particular horse to the exclusion of all the other horse-related activities that bring me joy. So here is the updated plan:
- Continue regular rides on my young horse focusing on building his and my confidence while refining many of the good things we have accomplished along the way. In time, my apprehension will fade if I am consistent in my efforts.’
- Play more with my young horse on-line and at liberty. I love playing with this horse at liberty. We can build our relationship when I am not on his back. And, it is so much fun!
- Ride my other horses. Each of my horses present different joys and challenges. This helps build my confidence in the saddle while keeping me engaged and having fun.
- On occasion, do what I love with other’s horses that allow me to just enjoy the ride. I went for my first post-accident trail ride with the Loudoun Fairfax Hunt last Saturday. I am looking forward to hilltopping with my sons this fall on the experienced hunt horses from Over the Grass Farm.
- Spend more time in the barn taking in the smells and listening to my horses eat. Some times I forget to take my time and appreciate the simple things.
So, if you find yourself challenged with your own recovery, take the time to reflect on the parts of your horse experience that rejuvenate and restore you. Sprinkle your recovery efforts generously with opportunities to enjoy these experiences to reward, recharge and support yourself. In this way your recovery will be more than just the chore or work of recovery and overcoming fear, it may feel more like, well… coming home.
Gratitude For An Insistent Loving Partner
I don’t know about you, but I grew up in an age where no one wore a helmet while riding. Sure, we had those fashionable little hunt caps we wore during shows that had all the protective qualities of Hershey’s Magic Shell (you know, the stuff that hardens when you pour it on your ice cream). But, I don’t ever remember a discussion about ASTM or SEI safety certification. Like most people, my old habits, preference and prejudices die hard. As time passed and rules changed, I did get an approved helmet for competition. Yet, to be honest I seldom wore a helmet when I didn’t “have to.”
Then, about 14 years ago, my first son was born. I remember the day that my wife came out to the arena while I was riding and she asked me, at least until our children were grown and independent, if I would promise to wear a helmet when I rode. For those that don’t know me personally, my wife is not a horsewoman. She appreciates their beauty and enjoys having them on the farm, but her connection to horses is totally through her love for me and her willingness to indulge my passion. At the time, it seemed a small price to pay for her continued support. I reluctantly agreed to to wear a helmet from that day forward.
I am embarrassed to admit my own arrogance at that point in my life. I remember thinking that wearing a helmet all the time was overkill. Sure it made sense if I was jumping cross country or riding an unfamiliar horse. But, for flat work or other quiet work with a known quantity in a ring? Seriously? But, I am a man of my word and with very few exceptions I honored my wife’s insistent request and wore a helmet whenever I rode from that day forward.
Last Friday we had a gorgeous cool, dry day. The kind that are extremely rare in Virginia in August. I had the day off work and was really excited to finally have the time to spend a full day with a young horse that I have been bringing along. There were several things I wanted to help him with that I didn’t want to rush and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. One of my agenda’s was to introduce him to “the neighborhood.” Just so you have the right image, I live on a dirt road off of a dirt road in a rural area in Virginia. My “neighborhood” is made up of a few small farms and a half a dozen houses. We started on the ground introducing him to all of those terrifying horse-eating monsters like my neighbor’s jeep, mud puddles, utility construction crews, etc. After an hour or so he appeared settled and quiet and I chose to get on. Everything went smoothly at first until we encountered a ridge of gravel at the edge of the road that had been deposited there by a recent rain. So, like everything else we started patiently working at getting brave.
I will never know what spooked him. He spun and took off at top speed. The last thing I remember is making a reasonably calm assessment of my situation. I had lost a stirrup when he spun. I was pulling on one rein with all my strength to try and turn him, but to no avail. I was considering my options. Would it be safer to try and ride it out or get off?
I woke up on the ground dazed and disoriented some time later. I would like to think I chose to get off, but I will never know. Helpful neighbors rounded up my horse and got me home. My wife got me to the emergency room. The CAT scan revealed a minor bleed on my brain which meant a night at the hospital for observation. Since then I have been on the mend looking forward to a day in the near future when my neck and shoulder aren’t sore. Yesterday I returned to my regular routine of feeding my horses and my helmet caught my eye.
As I picked it up I looked at the left side of the helmet to see the damage. I was looking at the left side because, based on all my injuries, that was the side of my body that hit the ground. I assumed that my head hit a rock or something which knocked me out. To my surprise, the left side was unblemished. The right side, however, sustained significant damage. While I will never know what really happened, I suspect that I either got stepped on or kicked in the head.
You may be wondering why I am telling this story. Maybe it is my own process of healing. One of the most powerful ways of dealing with traumatic events is to share our story. This helps us both by connecting with others and making sense of what happened so that we might avoid similar situations in the future. Maybe it is to set the stage over the next couple of weeks so that I can share my own journey as I get back in the saddle and cope with the inevitable fears and anxieties. I have long held that I would never suggest that my clients do something that I would not be willing to do myself. This is not the first time I have had the opportunity to put my sport psychology techniques to personal practical use. I certainly hope that my clients ultimately benefit from my experience.
The primary reason I tell my story today, however, is to simply say thank you to the lovely, loving woman who asked me to wear a helmet so many years ago. Without her insistence I might not be writing this or anything else today. Perhaps if you read this and you were like I was 14 years ago, you might reconsider and suffer the minor discomfort and slight inconvenience of wearing a helmet.
Who Is Judging Whom?
How many times have you entered the arena to compete and found yourself obsessing about what someone else was thinking about you? Sure we worry about what the judges think, but we also worry about what almost everyone else thinks. We worry about the judgments of our trainers, other people’s trainers, family, friends, peers, as well as other competitors. Yet, at the end of the day, we have to wonder how many of those people, whose judgments we worry so much about, gave our performance more than a passing thought. The reality is that we are most often the only ones that are judging ourselves so harshly and ruthlessly.
In the world of equestrian competition, the people who are in the position to judge competitors have experience and training. The higher the level of competition, the higher the level of training and experience. Part of the reason for training judges is to assure that competitors are assessed fairly according to some agreed upon criterion. So here is my question. How much time have you dedicated to training your internal judge? Do you judge yourself fairly according to accepted and reasonable criteria that match your level of skill and experience, or do you judge yourself capriciously and harshly according to ever shifting criteria?
So many of the equestrian athletes I work with who suffer from performance or competition anxiety have an issue with their internal critic or judge. They might say they are worried about what others think, but at the end of the day they suffer most because of what they think of themselves. One of the most effective interventions for performance anxiety is to help athletes focus on judging themselves and their performance by their own internal measuring stick. However, this requires that our internal measuring stick is constructed carefully and fairly. In other words, we need to be sure that our internal judge is adequately trained and experienced so that we judge ourselves fairly and consistently according to reasonable and established criteria that are suitable to our level of skill and experience.
The next time you catch yourself being harshly self-critical try this exercise. Write down the criticisms that you are making of yourself. For each criticism, write down the specific criteria you are using to make that judgment. Ask yourself if the criteria you are using are objective and valid for competitors of your level of skill and experience in your discipline. If the answer is “yes”, set one or more specific goals to work toward before your next competition. If the answer is “no”, identify one or more reasonable, objective and valid criteria upon which competitors of your skill and experience could be fairly judged and set one or more specific goals which you can work toward before you next competition.
We can’t always control what others do to prepare themselves for the role and responsibility of being a judge. However, we can control our own training and in this way prepare ourselves to fairly and competently judge ourselves.