Jumping Away From Home

August started off with an absolutely crazy week recovering from Pony Club camp week and judging Demi Dressage tests. Which means my blog has been neglected. But let’s start afresh with one of my latest challenges.

One of my clients has a lovely pony who is perfectly capable jumping at home, but gets a cricket score whenever they go out jumping. Since lockdown they’ve been focusing on arena hire, getting him out and about. But they’ve found themselves stuck in the cycle of one refusal, then he jumps the jump fine. By the end of the session he’s jumping beautifully, but of course that’s not the way a showjumping competition works!

This week I went along with them to see if we can break the cycle.

I had my rider warm up quickly, purposefully keeping away from the fillers and jumps. Meanwhile, I put all the jumps at about 50-60cm, with a central gap between the fillers.

We used the first, plain jump as a warm up fence and made a plan. My rider expects her pony to refuse so rides expecting a stop. The pony stops and once he’s stopped he uses it as an excuse to stop at the next jump. A self fulfilling prophecy. With the jumps as low as they were, he could jump them from a standstill. Therefore the pony learnt that he only had one option – forwards – and that going left, right or backwards wasn’t an option. My rider had to set him up in a straight line, use her seat to send him forwards and channel him straight with the leg and hand. She needed to ride slightly defensively yet positively so that she wasn’t giving him any vibes to have second thoughts. If he stopped, he had to walk over the jump between the fillers. So there was no turning away.

My rider jumped the first, plain fence to set them both up into a positive, rhythmical canter. They came around the corner and he screeched to a halt at the fillers on the first part of the double. She sat back, used her legs and he jerked over the fence unelegantly before trotting over the second element. They picked up canter and approached number three on a long dog leg, with bright, white fillers. He backed off, thought about stopping, but my rider rode so determinedly that he cat leapt over it from a slow trot.

But then the penny dropped. And for the rest of the round, the pony started taking his rider into the fences, fillers and all, without hesitation. Of course, his rider still had to be on the ball and not become complacent, but they seemed to be reading from the same page.

I adjusted the jumps for their second round, bringing the fillers closer and the jumps higher. Again, this went smoothly. Number two caused a problem again, but it was because their approach wasn’t straight rather than anything else. The rest of the course was confident and flowed very nicely.

The third round was up at 70-80cm, with all the fillers underneath the jumps, so much more like a showjumping competition. They flew this time, with my rider not looking twice at the fences.

Finally, I put some oxers in and turned two fillers around so it was a different image at the front. I didn’t want to have them repeating the jumps too many times as they had nothing to prove with the height, but I wanted to keep putting in new questions now that we’d changed both mindsets and broken the cycle.

The ninth jump didn’t cause an issue at all with the change of filler and addition of a back rail, but number two did. When he stopped, I moved the fillers slightly and put the pole down so he could still walk forwards over the jump. Turning around wasn’t an option. As the rest of the course flowed so nicely, with no hesitation, I turned our attention to jump two before we finished.

As the pony was getting tired, I lowered the first jump to a cross as it’s purpose was to set up the canter and start the jumping course. We focused on having counter flexion on the turn to stop him falling through his outside shoulder, and then channelled him positively. He stopped again, but it looked to be more of a test of rider than anything else. I moved the fence again so he wasn’t turned in a circle, and jumped it. We repeated the exercise and then he jumped boldly over, although my rider couldn’t let her guard down! After the double she jumped the third jump, so that they were finishing on a fence where he wasn’t backing off at all.

Next time, I want to start in a similar fashion, with only one warm up fence, and the fillers will start at the side, but closer together and the fences slightly bigger. But still small enough that they can be jumped from a sticky trot. Then hopefully we will progress to jumping with the fillers underneath the jumps quicker. My aim is to give the pony a positive, confidence building experience whilst ensuring that he learns that forwards is the only way to go when cantering towards a jump. In the meantime I want my rider to continue riding so positively, be more aware of how she is setting him up in terms of straightness and the use of her aids, yet starting to change her mindset from “he’s going to stop” to “he will jump it”. Once they can get to a training venue and jump a clear round straight away they can progress to clear rounds and competitions.

Choosing Your Line

I chose a straightforward jumping exercise for a couple of my riders this last couple of weeks. They haven’t jumped for a while due to lockdown and with no lessons so I wanted to get them all back in to the swing of things whilst being aware that they’ve lost their jumping fitness.

I laid out a one stride double of jumps with tramlines between the two jumps down the centre line. After trotting and cantering over the poles, revising straightness and riding lines before and after jumps. I built the jumps up as crosses, still requiring my riders to ride to the centre of each fence, and to stay straight between them. Then I made the jumps into uprights, which makes it harder to stay central. Both of my riders have been my clients for a while so found this exercise very straightforward as I regularly use tramlines in lessons. But it was useful for settling the horses and rediscovering their jumping rhythm.

Next, I discussed with them how sometimes it is beneficial to not jump the centre of a jump. Perhaps on a course the turn is quite tight, or the turn after is tricky. Or you need to shave nanoseconds off your time. Or the previous fence and turn went wrong and you’ve overshot the next jump.

In any of those cases, it’s very useful to be able to chose a different line to ride; be it the inside line that F1 drivers talk about, or the outside line.

I moved the tramlines, leaving one pole in the middle of the combination, dividing the jump into left and right. Then I put a pole before and after the combination to give a visual line to my riders.

Firstly, I had them coming off the right rein, but jumping the left side of the fences i.e. the outside line. Afterward the jumps we alternated between turning left and right, so my riders could get a feel of the effect of jumping off centre. Riding the outside line is slightly easier than the inside line, but if a horse tends to drift around corners then they often continue drifting out along the line of jumps and it is harder to get them straight before the fence. Turning left after jumping the left line of a fence is tighter, which saves precious moments in a jump off, but could have a detrimental effect at the next fence if it’s a short line or your horse is likely to lose balance on a tight left turn.

Next, we stayed in the right rein, but jumped the inside line; again alternating between turning left and right afterwards. This was a tighter turn on the approach which may make it harder for the horse to stay balanced, especially if insufficient outside aids are used. However, the jump itself may be better because the horse’s hindquarters are more underneath them. Turning right afterwards is a tighter turn than turning left when jumping this inside line.

I wanted my riders to compare how easy or difficult it was riding the inside line and the outside line from different directions, and to understand this in relation to their training on the flat and how this might affect their choices when jumping a course.

For exactly, a horse who is stiffer on the right rein will find it harder to jump the right line of jumps from a right turn. This might cause the horse to be unbalanced before the jump and potentially knock the jump down. This can of course be improved by focusing on suppleness on the flat and making the stiffer side of the horse more supple. In an ideal world, a horse will find it as easy to turn tightly from the left rein and the right, but whilst you’re training it’s useful to know which turn is harder so you focus on improving that, but also from a tactical perspective you can choose the lines of your jumping course which are most economical on time with the greatest chance of jumping clear.

With my clients having mastered riding different lines through combinations the next step is putting this theory into practice on a course of jumps. Getting a feel for the difference that riding an outside or inside line can make to how well a course flows, stays intact, and the time it’s ridden in.

Stepping It Up

I did quite a lot of adventuring in the autumn with Phoenix, of all disciplines to give her more experience, but the wet ground cut it short and with Christmas getting out and about went on the back burner a bit. I don’t think that’s a bad thing though, as it gives you time to focus on stepping up a level. Which is what I’ve been doing.

The flatwork side of things I’m slowly introducing novice movements, letting Phoenix think that they’re her idea. Medium trot is coming along nicely, she reins back well, direct transitions between halt and trot are sussed. It’s the dreaded walk to canter which keeps upsetting our canter work which is holding us back at the moment.

On the jumping side, I’ve done a lot of work on the canter and just before Christmas jump schooled her at a lovely, local venue. Through the autumn she was doing the 70cm and 80cm class so that she had a warm up before her level of jumping. However, now a 70cm course involves speed as she overreacts to my aids and is overly confident. Sure she goes clear, but it doesn’t feel controlled or like I have any say in how we go. In December, after jumping a course of 80cm I put the jumps up to 90-95cm. Then, it got interesting. Phoenix backed off the jumps, not enough that it all went wrong, but she had to think about the fences, and then she let me help her out. I could balance the canter and apply the leg on the approach. There were a couple of green errors, a pole down, the odd stop when she didn’t quite have the right canter and take off spot. But nothing unexplainable, and I found that I preferred the feel I had around a bigger course. It was time to step up a level!

With Christmas and the EHV outbreak over, I’m planning Phoenix’s adventures over the next few months. We’ve entered a combined training in a couple of weeks – a pre-novice dressage test and 85cm course. But the next showjumping competition I have in the diary has classes of 70,80,90cm. The first option is too simple for Phoenix, but the 90cm seems like such a jump up. I mean, she’s only jumped a couple of courses at that height non-competitively. Would I be throwing her into the deep end and creating a problem for myself if she scrambles round and loses her confidence?

When I take Phoenix jump schooling I try to go with a companion who will push me without pressure. Who will encourage the jumps to be raised appropriately, but doesn’t apply peer pressure to push us beyond our limits. I think this is really important for ensuring sessions are positive, confidence building, yet progressive.

For some reason, the 90cm class seems more daunting than when I entered Phoenix into her first 80cm. Perhaps it’s because I’ve not regularly jumped her at that height or higher, or perhaps it’s because it’s been almost four years since I was seriously jumping with Otis. And that was completely different: I was younger, had less to lose if it went wrong, was much more confident, knew Otis inside out, etc. I think there’s an element of my nerves as much as anything.

I want to step up a level with Phoenix, so before I made a decision, I decided to take Phoenix schooling again, with the aim of testing both of us around a bigger course to see how she coped and whether I felt that I was ready to give her the support that she needed round a bigger course. After all, it’s counter productive to wing it and get around a course by the skin of our teeth, than to give ourselves another few weeks of schooling at that level. Phoenix warmed up a little wildly over some smaller fences, doing her usual trick of ignoring my half halts and balancing aids and rushing to the fences. So after riding a course of 80-85cm, we built the jumps up so that they were 95cm high and the full width.

I was very pleased with how she jumped. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, she got a bit fast and flat on a related distance and took down the back rail, and we ended on a half stride to the final jump so just brought it down. But she felt powerful, confident, and jumped the height with ease, they were just errors which won’t happen with more experience. And when I rode the fences we’d faulted at again, she jumped them easily. So, decision made, we’re doing our first 90cm class at the end of the month, which should be fine with a warm up competition in the meantime. Wish us luck!

An Unlucky Pole

I took Phoenix showjumping today. She stormed round the 70cm clear, pushed into third place by some whizzy kids. In her first 80cm class, she had a pole down. But was still the fastest four faulter to be placed seventh.

On a side note, before I return to my main reel of thought, I’d like to well, boast really, about how amazing she is to take out. Loads herself, waits patiently and quietly for her class, warms up calmly, waits quietly, jumps her best, and then stands round while her little fan hugs and kisses her neck. She really makes the day enjoyable from that perspective.

Back to my original topic of conversation. That pole we had down. It reminded me of a conversation recently held between friends. One friend was suggesting that there is no such thing as an unlucky pole, and it is becoming an excuse for sloppy riding and a lack of clear rounds.

After every jumping round I do, I come away planning my improvements. Even the clear rounds. Last time we competed and had the last jump of last round – yes, annoying because we were a good ten seconds faster than our rivals – I knew exactly what had gone wrong. In trying not to upset Phoenix’s fairly fragile canter I hadn’t half halted between the last two fences and she needed it. So she had bounded on in a flat canter and basically went through the jump. I beat myself up then for letting her down more than anything, and went away to strengthen the canter and ride related distances properly. That wasn’t an unlucky pole.

Today; what went wrong? I’m yet to see the video, but it was a related distance on a slight left curve. We had the second element down. Phoenix’s canter felt much stronger throughout the day and she wasn’t towing me onto her forehand. She’d jumped big into the related distance because it was a loud filler and I’d really pressed the go button, and I think that this meant the distance between the fences along with the line I rode, and the stage she’s at in her training meant that she just got too close to the second element and brought down the front rail of the oxer.

Now was that unlucky? I think it could have gone either way today. We could have gotten away with it. Neither of us did anything wrong, she wasn’t tired, her technique was neat, and it’s perfectly within her capabilities, but the sequence of events just didn’t flow on the day. It was unlucky in the sense that she was jumping very well and confidently so didn’t really deserve to knock one with such a slight error.

That doesn’t mean there isn’t anything for me to learn from today. Her canter still needs improvement as if I had more scope to collect her I could have adjusted her enough to correct her bold jump into the related distance. I could’ve ridden a wider line, but it’s hard to change course once you’re on it. I also think I over-rode the first element, but I think the more competitive experience we both get together the better as I’ll know exactly how much leg to use and she’ll be less likely to have a second look at a fence. I also think she’ll benefit from a few jumping exercises I’ve got planned to help teach her not to bowl on quite so much through a related distance, as that is a common theme. But we’ll do our homework for next time.

So is there such a thing as an unlucky pole? I think you can be unlucky as a pair in that you deserved to go clear from the way you rode the rest of the round and the minor error which caused the pole to come down. You’ve tried your best with your ability on that day. But that doesn’t mean it’s an excuse. After all, a clear round is the goal and a pole down is a less than perfect result, so improvements can be made at home.

We riders need to walk away from a knock down and try to work out how we can improve on it. Be it riding better lines, improving the canter, practising on different surfaces and inclines, practising with fillers or water trays, changing tack, boots or studs if they’re becoming a hindrance or any other weakness you feel you and your horse have. Then, we will achieve perfection.

The video from the 80cm class has just come through, so I thought I’d share it so you can see our slight error. It was a straightforward course, but full of related distances, which is the area we have we working on most recently so it was a useful test.

The Perfect Salute

All dressage tests finish with a salute on the centre line, and from Elementary level and above there’s a salute at the beginning too.

From a judge’s perspective, a nice salute and a smile leaves a positive, lasting impression on them. So if you finish with a smile and a smart salute the judge will appreciate it, and possibly write more positive comments and be more generous with the collective marks. Their final impression of you is a good one.

Someone told me years ago that you should always smile at the end of a dressage test because if it’s gone well you should show that you’re satisfied with your performance, and if it’s gone wrong then you aren’t berating yourself too much – I guess the phrase “smiling ruefully” springs to mind.

I also like to see horses and ponies getting a pat and neck scratch as a competitor leaves the arena on a long rein. Certainly it’s something I do each time I leave.

Anyway, I thought I’d share with you the tried and tested salute that I learnt as a child. It’s not flashy, being a workmanlike movement, but it means it is as at home in the show ring, dressage arena, or jumping ring.

Emphasis was put, when teaching us the salute, on not rushing it. So we had to count each step to slow us down.

Firstly, ride forwards to halt, as square as possible, but ensure you establish the halt before saluting. There’s nothing worse than a rider saluting as their horse stops. It looks impatient, suggesting you are an impatient rider.

On the count of one, place your whip and reins into one hand. In the show ring you salute with the hand nearest the judge, but in dressage most riders use their dominant hand, or the one without the whip in.

On two, drop your saluting hand down so that it is vertical, just behind your knee.

On three, give a clear nod down of the head. On four, raise the head again, smiling to the judge. Dividing the nod into two counts ensures it’s not a quick bob of the head, that could be missed by a judge blinking.

And on five, bring your hand back up and retake the reins. Then proceed in walk (or trot, or canter if your salute is not the final movement).

I’ve seen a lot of emphatic salutes recently, with great flourishes of the hand, or even naval style salutes. Neither of which appeal to me. But then again I’m a person who likes plain browbands, no frills or ruffles.

I would encourage anyone unsure of how to salute correctly to watch Charlotte Dujardin and other famous dressage riders to see the succinct, crisp, clear way that they salute the judge.

Walking The Course

This has come up a couple of times this season, but unfortunately it keeps going to the bottom of my blog list.

So often when riders walk a course, especially eventing when there’s two courses to remember on top of a dressage test, they focus on remembering the order of the jumps and where they’re going. Sound familiar?

Inexperienced riders rarely pay enough attention to the tactical aspects of riding a course. Yes, they’ll think about which fences their horse may dislike, or the gear that they need to approach a jump in, but what about the factors on course which you can’t influence so easily?

Firstly, the ground and way of going. Yes, you can’t change the fact it’s rained and the ground is soft, almost deep. But when walking the course you want to take the ground conditions into account. It may mean you ride a wider turn so your horse is less likely to slip, or if you know your horse finds one type of going easier than others you adjust your riding to best suit them. For example, accept some time penalties and take a steadier canter to help your horse out. You also want to consider the running order. If you are running towards the end of the day you should be aware that the course could become churned up and deep in places. So adjust your lines to take this into account.

Terrain. Some events have more undulating terrain than others, but as you walk the course you should be looking at all the twists and turns of the ground, and plan your ride so that you take the route which will enable your horse to stay most balanced and rhythmical. For example, a jump may be positioned at the edge of a hollow, so depending on how your horse copes with downhill, you may want to ride a longer line to the jump to give them more time to rebalance the canter after the downhill slope. Whether you are jumping uphill or downhill will also affect how you ride the fence. Going uphill you may need to put your foot on the accelerator a bit more, particularly if it’s towards the end of the course. Going downhill, you’ll need to ride a smaller canter to help keep your horse balanced and off the forehand, which will affect their take off point. Incorporating the terrain into your tactics for riding the course can make all the difference to going clear or picking up penalties as your horse will be better placed to jump confidently and successfully.

The weather conditions. One of my lasting memories of eventing Otis is when we were going cross country at 4.30pm in September. Invariably we’d been delayed, so it was after 5pm, and I was galloping up the hill directly into the evening sun, with a large table at the top. God knows how I managed to get over it as I was very disorientated and nearly steered into the hedge, but Otis got me out of trouble, as always. I hadn’t clocked the impact of the setting sun on my ride, and after that event I was always much more considerate of where the sun would be when I would be jumping, rather than where it was when I walked the course. It’s the same with shadows; if a jump is under some trees, check where the shadows are going to be. It takes horses eyes longer than ours to adjust from light to dark, so again you’ll need to adjust your riding line or gear in order to give your horse the best chance of seeing and judging the question. Equally, if it’s raining or windy, you’ll firstly be questioning your sanity, and secondly, need to adjust your riding whether you’re cantering into the rain or wind, or away from it, as your horse will find it harder when against the weather so will need more positive riding from you.

My challenge to you is the next time you are at a competition, or cross country schooling, to start to take into account the weather conditions, terrain, ground, and shadows, as well as trying to remember the order of the jumps. You should start to feel that although you are making more micro adjustments to your canter, and riding less direct lines, your round will flow more and the jumping efforts seem easier.

Perfect Circles

Last week I had a new experience; I was videoed teaching a masterclass with two young riders for Demi Dressage.

Since Christmas I’ve been involved with Demi Dressage – Which you can read about here – and the theme for the Easter holiday tests is circles, so we decided to have two guinea pig riders of different abilities and record a masterclass to help teach our young competitors how to ride round circles, rather than egg shaped circles.

Considering I’m the person who hated my mentor observing my lessons while I trained for my BHS PTT exam, and she had to leave me with my clients and sneak into the gallery to watch, this was quite a big deal for me. I was fairly nervous, and even got as far as writing down my lesson plan rather than just having the vague agenda in my head.

One of my riders was five, not particularly confident and not ready for canter. The other rider, she was ten I think, was more advanced and cantering competently.

Before we got mounted, we looked at the Crafty Ponies Dressage Arena diagram (not heard of Crafty Ponies? Where have you been) they’re amazing! ) to see what a correct circle looks like in the arena and how circles are often ridden as either ovals or egg shapes. My youngest rider told me that the most important thing about the shape of the circle is that it is round. Whilst my older rider told me that the hardest part about riding circles was making them round.

Whilst the girls warmed up their ponies I got busy with setting up a perfect circle. My able assistant stood on the centre line ten metres from A, holding a lunge line. I then walked the circumference of the 20m circle, laying out small sports cones. These are my new toy; soft and flexible it doesn’t matter if they get stood on (although I do charge a fee of one Easter egg per squashed cone) but they provide a great visual aid for riders.

I used plenty of cones to help my younger rider mainly, but you can reduce the number of cones as you get less reliant on the cones. I also used yellow cones for one side of the circle and red for the other – for reasons that will become obvious later.

I ran through the aids for riding a circle with the girls: turning your head and body to look halfway round the circle, indicating with the inside rein and pushing with the outside leg. The girls then rode the circle in walk so that I could see that they were using the correct aids, and also check their level of understanding. This is more important for the younger rider really. I had gotten the older rider to ride a 20m circle at C in the warm up, with no help so that she could compare her before and after circles.

Using the perfect circle of cones, we could see where the ponies tended to lose the shape. All ponies are reluctant to leave the track and security of the fence line, and the cones made both girls more aware of this so they had to apply their aids earlier and more strongly in order to leave the track at the right place. With my older rider I could talk about the balance of her aids, and fine tune the circle, whilst with the younger one I kept it simple and focused on her looking further around the circle, which automatically applied her weight and seat aids.

The girls worked on the circle in walk and trot in both directions, and then the elder rider cantered it on both reins. The canter was more interesting as we could see the difference in her pony’s suppleness (I racked up a few Easter eggs here!) which led to an interesting conversation on the asymmetry of the canter gait.

With the girls understanding and experiencing a perfectly round circle, we then talked about how to ensure that the second half of our circles are the same size as the first half.

I got the girls to ride their circle in trot, counting their strides all the way round. This part of the session would go a little over my young rider’s head, but I felt she’d still benefit from learning to count her strides and the theory. The bigger pony got 32 strides on the whole circle, so then we tried to get sixteen strides on the yellow side of the circle and sixteen strides on the red side. With the cones to help, she pretty much nailed it first time.

With my younger rider we aimed to get twenty strides on each half of the circle, and whilst she struggled to count and get the circle round, it did help improve her understanding of the previous exercise, and she did manage it with some help from Mum counting aloud with her.

I didn’t do this exercise in canter as I felt my older rider had enough to digest, and she can apply the same theory to it another day. However, I did set her a challenge to finish the lesson. We tidied up the cones, and I asked her to ride a twenty metre circle with sixteen strides on each half.

Which she did correctly first time! And could analyse the differences between the circles she’d ridden in her warm up, and her final circles. Overall, a successful and enjoyable lesson I believe. And the videos aren’t too cringeworthy either – to my relief!

Positive, Neutral and Negative Riders

I heard an interesting analogy last week, which I thought I would share with you as it’s a good attitude to have each time you go to ride your horse.

There are three types of rider: those who have a positive effect on their horse, those who have a neutral effect, and those who have a negative effect on their horse.

It doesn’t sound very nice really, does it, saying that you have a negative or detrimental effect on your horse. But we all started off as negative riders. When we were bumbling around with clumsy steering aids and heavy rising, those riding school horses tolerated us and accepted our mistakes as we learnt. But this comes at a cost. The horse’s way of going will deteriorate over time by them losing topline muscles and learning to compensate by working in a hollow manner; they may lose the level of impulsion and cadence to their gaits.

Once you’ve mastered the basics and have control over your aids, and can maintain your balance you begin to become a neutral rider. That means that the time you spend riding your horse (assuming you are appropriately matched) won’t cause their way of going to deteriorate, yet you also won’t improve their level of schooling.

Finally, there is the positive rider. These are more experienced riders who can enhance the horse’s way of going; teach them new movements or fine tune their current skills.

Throughout our riding careers you can find yourself as all three types of rider at some point. If you are overhorsed, you may be a negative rider for the short term but with the right help you can improve your skills so that you become a neutral rider. You may find yourself riding a young or green horse, in which case you need to be a positive rider to further their education.

As a rider, horse owner and horse lover, you should want to do the best by your horse, and that means that on a bad day you want to have a neutral effect on your horse – perhaps you’ve had a busy day at work and just need to hack or lightly school. But every other day, you are a positive rider, and enhancing your horse with every ride. Be that by improving a certain movement, building their self confidence, or by riding exercises to improve their muscle tone.

It’s a good ambition to have, regardless of whether you want to ride an advanced medium test, event internationally, or hack confidently or enter your local riding club competitions; you should aim to be a positive rider for the benefit of your horse.

Adults Riding

This subject has come up a couple of times recently, and whilst it’s often joked about, I don’t think it’s taken seriously enough from a coaching perspective.

At some point in your riding career – whether it’s a weekly riding lesson or a competitive full time hobby – you will transfer from a child rider to an adult rider. From this, I mean your attitude towards your riding changes slightly.

Children in general tend to be unaware of the potential consequences of riding. Of course, if they fall off then they may have a confidence knock or an injury, but it’s usually short lived – once the bruise has faded or they’ve experienced the canter again successfully, they’re happy – out of sight, out of mind so to speak. There are some exceptions of course. Adults on the other hand, are much more aware of the consequences of something going wrong whilst riding, and are always conscious of the risks.

For example, if you break an arm and can’t drive how can you go to work; who’s going to pay the bills; and who’s going to look after the children and pets?

As a teenager or young adult you slowly become independent: moving out into your own house, getting a job, running your own car. It’s about now that you realise what risks you take with your riding. It doesn’t mean you’re going to stop, or loose your nerve, but it does mean that you double check the ground before having a gallop on a hack. You’ll build yourself up through the heights more steadily in a jumping lesson. You’re more likely to stop on a good note rather than try the next level and risk it going wrong. And if you haven’t done a particular exercise for a while you are more cautious when trying it. I’ve often been told by clients, who are by all means competent, that they are feeling nervous because they’ve not ridden for a week. So continuity is important for adult riders, and if they haven’t ridden for a little while the lesson should be more of a revision session, rather than the opportunity to teach something new.

I think this subject needs discussing when training coaches, especially the young, fresh faced ones who are yet to make this transition or have a confidence knock at all. After all, they need to understand that adult riders have a slightly different agenda to their young counterparts and lesson plans need to reflect the cautionary approach adult riders can have, and the fact their riding ambitions are as much about enjoying themselves and staying safe than going fast or jumping high. Preparation for competitions, and long term lesson goals should take the continuity factor into account and allow time to build things back up if there’s a riding break scheduled.

Adults joke that they don’t bounce anymore, and it’s true. Bruises last longer and stiffness lingers. So it’s understandable that you want to minimise injuries. There are also physical changes such as arthritis, past injuries, acquired weaknesses which can make adults feel more vulnerable when riding. I think it’s important that adult riders acknowledge the fact that their riding ambitions and confidences have changed compared to when they were younger, and to make adjustments to lessons and riding plans to take this into account. It’s worth checking that you are most comfortable with your tack and protective equipment. Perhaps you want to start hacking in a body protector, or having a neck strap. Either way, it’s important to do what you need to do to be happy.

I think as you get older, the relationship you have with your horse becomes paramount. As an owner, you may be less inclined to ride friends’ horses if yours is off work, and it takes longer to build a bond with a horse and develop that trust. It might be that the horse you bought as a teenager is no longer the horse you want to ride as an adult, in which case have an honest conversation with yourself. And if you’re buying a new horse, be truthful about what you would have liked – that palomino feisty horse all teenagers dream of – and what you need now.

I was asked last week if my riding had changed since motherhood. It’s an interesting question, and I don’t think mine is necessarily an easy answer. Yes, it has changed over the last couple of years – I’m preferring the training aspect and the dressage foundation work. But I think this has as much to do with losing Otis as my riding partner than becoming pregnant. I loved eventing Otis. But I think that’s because I had such a strong bond with him and trusted him with my life. After he went lame I didn’t have the desire to ride other horses to the same level. So my riding changed slightly then. It’s not to say I’d have never returned to what I was doing with him, it’s just that I wasn’t ready at that time or had the horsepower and then things happened.

Motherhood definitely changes your approach to riding; in the early days your body is still recovering from the beating it received during labour and you’re rebuilding your previous strength and fitness. Added to the fact that the little bundle of joy on the side of the arena is totally dependent on you, you are definitely less of a risk taker. Now, my riding ambitions and my reason for riding has changed. Firstly, I’m in less of a hurry to perfect things because I don’t need the pressure on top of learning to juggle family, baby and work. Secondly, I’m more interested in riding as a break from motherhood. That hour when I can forget about how many teeth are coming through, whether there’s a pair of dry, clean tights on the washing line for the morning, and if she’ll eat the courgette I’ve made for dinner. Thirdly, I’m building my relationship with Phoenix. And I want to get it right, so I’m crossing the Ts and dotting the Is. I think, had I still been riding Otis when I became pregnant I’d be back up to what we were doing, perhaps doing fewer competitions, focusing on dressage, or sticking to jumping 90s which were well within our comfort zone rather than feeling the need to push ourselves.

I’ve had similar conversations with several clients recently: some say they’ve lost their nerve, some say they just don’t want to jump that big anymore, others find excuses not to ride out of their comfort zone. And it’s fine. It’s no biggie. No one is telling you you have to jump that big, or gallop that fast. And if they are, they aren’t your friend! Focus on what you, the adult, wants to get out of riding – take away the pressure – and chat to your friends and instructor to work out the best strategy to keep you in the saddle and smiling.