BY GRACE SPECKMAN
While everyone else in Indiana was focused on the Indianapolis 500 over Memorial Day weekend, I was 30 miles north of the Speedway in rural Lebanon, Indiana. No deafening track noises. Just horses. A different kind of horsepower.
My longtime riding friend and now professional trainer, Michael Burnett, hosted a three-day clinic with Olympic showjumper Chris Kappler at his own Burnett Farm. Although Burnett Farm has hosted Chris for six years now, this was my first time attending, and I had no idea what to expect. Chris won gold and silver medals in showjumping at the 2004 Olympics aboard his mount Royal Kaliber. Needless to say, I knew he was incredibly accomplished, but what I wasn’t prepared for was how encouraging, positive, and reassuring his training style was.
Three days of auditing later, I think I benefited just as much, if not more, than the riders themselves.
I drove up the gravel path to his property Friday morning, past several cows grazing on the dewy grass. It was early, around 6:45 am, and cold. I’m talking, “had to get a horse blanket to put on my lap sitting on a freezing metal chair”, cold. By the end of the weekend, it was rainy, hot, and muggy. That’s Indiana for you. They were long days, and by the time I departed each day, the riders were still hard at work at the barn caring for their horses or allowing a leisurely graze around the property.
Each day started around 8:00 am with a freshly dragged indoor ring and a tidy, thoughtful course set by Chris and crew. The crew? Fellow clinic riders, spectators, and your typical, helpful “barn kid”. There were 18 horse and rider pairs ranging from high school-aged junior riders to adult amateurs in their 60s to seasoned professionals. The horses varied just as much as their riders. Some were newly acquired by their rider, while others were longtime, steady partners. Three groups of approximately six rode for about two hours each day. I was exhausted just watching (and occasionally setting a jump or raking the arena), so I couldn’t imagine how the riders were feeling.
But Chris’s soft, melodic voice, carried by the loudspeaker, carried everyone through the weekend. I laughed as one rider and her mom said they wished he had a podcast or audiobook just so they could listen to his supportive, calming voice. Who else can say that about their trainer?!
It wasn’t just the tone of his voice, but also the carefully chosen words that made the whole experience so enjoyable and memorable. Each session started with the basics, then built as the day and weekend went on. Day one focused on the base: leg, seat, hands, eyes… bottom to top. Everything done on the left lead, then done on the right. Circles, serpentines, track. Eyes up! But said in a soothing tone, of course. “Supple, give, more trusting” echoed from Chris throughout the day. Phrases often repeated rhythmically for emphasis… “Read the line. Read the line. Read the line.”
It was all about communication and release. When the horse does something correct, immediately relax the aids. That’s how they know they did something right. “Once you get your point across, look to be agreeable.” I think this can be said for just about anything in life, but especially with horses.
Day two incorporated more lateral work and added a gymnastic exercise. “Walking with impulsion is what’s very important… forward first, lateral second… when you’re doing the lateral work, don’t let it get slow.” He also threw in the classic exercise of holding up a few fingers in the corner and asking the riders to announce how many were held up. Eyes up. Always.
Later that day during a lunch break, I asked Chris about something that caught my attention… how little emphasis he put on correcting leads in the corner before continuing down the long side after an exercise. He paused, thought for a moment, then calmly said he simply wanted everyone to survive the jumps. All that looking down is not so positive. He said 60-70% of the time the horse will follow you and correct themselves. Fence to fence to fence, there’s too much to think about. As time goes by, you just get a different level of comfort. Then you start adding in the leads. With experience, things slow down between the jumps. You’ll get the lead. Ride a good track. Balance.
Details compound. By day three, I’d noticed a difference in the horses, in the riders. Things were coming together beautifully. Some slight tack adjustments further helped a few pairs. Everyone was tired, yet motivated and ready to finish strong. They went back to lateral work with a strong emphasis on the counter canter to get that haunches out feeling. The gymnastics and fences got more interesting as the days went on. The last group had an increasing-height bounce exercise down the center line, a narrow, stacked box jump on the quarter line, and two combinations on each long side. The occasional pole or cross rail was added on the edge or at the end of the ring to mix things up.
It was about making little, subtle improvements every day. To Chris, anything more than that is too much, especially for the young horses. Subtle! “Do as little as possible to help the horse, but as much as necessary.” Rhythm, energy, straightness, connection.
I appreciated the importance he placed on planning one’s ride from beginning to end. “The first fence starts everything. It’s really important to start on that right foot. Always finish. Finish the line. You’re always schooling.” Throughout the weekend, there was an intentional end to each exercise, whether it was a lengthening of stride down the long side, or a smooth stop followed by turning in the opposite direction the horse was going. Everything was intentional. “You’re either training the horse, or you’re untraining the horse.”
More than anything, I appreciated how mistakes were handled. “No big deal, no big deal”, often repeated after anything went awry. It was always about looking ahead and on to the next thing, never about punishment or negativity.
I drove home Sunday afternoon with dust on my clothes, arena sand in my barn sneakers, pages of chaotic notes, and a camera roll full of photos. Exhausted, yet inspired. The thing that stuck with me most wasn’t a training exercise or a technical correction. It was the simplicity and pureness of it all. Show up. Pay attention to the details. Communicate clearly. Release when they get it right. Be a good horseman. And whatever you do, keep going forward.
Chris didn’t say everything in summation like that, but he didn’t have to. Three days at the rail and it was impossible to miss. You’re either training, or you’re untraining. The same can be said for most things in life. Eyes up. Keep going forward.
Grace Speckman, CFP® is a financial advisor to clients in the equestrian world. She works at Meridian Investment Advisors in Indianapolis, Indiana. Before her career in wealth management, she grew up in the equestrian world riding hunters and jumpers, where it takes discipline, accountability, and partnership. It takes that with money too. Today, she works with successful individuals and families to bring those same principles to their investments, financial planning, and legacy. Grace publishes all things equine on her popular Instagram page, Dollars and Horse Sense.
