Copdock Riding Centre.

05/01/2026

Sad news … Shane who many of you loved sadly passed away in his field at 26 years old.
Memories 💙 fly high 🌈

04/01/2026

Get qualifed here :-

Download Competition Rules for Trailblazers Championships

04/01/2026

Get qualified here:-

Busiest Equestrian Centre in the Country, Professional Family Run Business with the Personal Touch. Cricklands

01/01/2026

01/01/2026

Happy new year to all our customers old and new may 2026 bring health and happiness. 🥂

29/12/2025

Arena hire available
PM / Email to book.

29/12/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/1DbVobvwXB/?mibextid=wwXIfr

Why yard politics happen (and why opting out is allowed)

Large livery yards often get talked about as if they are “toxic” or difficult.
That label is rarely the full story.

When lots of people share a space, care deeply about their horses, run on little sleep, manage money, time, weather, and welfare, something very human happens.

Social dynamics form.

That does not mean anyone has done anything wrong.

In busy yards, information travels fast. Opinions get shared. People watch each other because they care, because they are learning, or because they are trying to work out what is expected of them. Silence can feel loaded. Boundaries can be misread. None of this requires bad intentions.

Most yard politics are not about malice.
They are about anxiety.

👉Fear of being judged.
👉Fear of being seen as incompetent.
👉Fear of standing out.
👉Fear of speaking up for a horse and becoming “that person.”

And it is okay to step out of it.

For what it is worth, I have only ever been at one yard that made me feel genuinely uncomfortable. It was not dramatic. It was subtle.

Opting out does not mean being cold, unfriendly, or superior.
It can look like staying focused on your own horse.
Keeping conversations kind but light.
Not carrying stories that are not yours.
Making choices quietly and consistently.

Healthy yards are not ones where everyone agrees.
They are ones where people allow difference without turning it into a problem.

Most good horse care is unremarkable to watch.
It happens early in the morning, in bad weather, without commentary.

If you have ever felt tense just arriving at a yard.
It may have been the weight of unspoken expectations.

You are allowed to love your horse, care well, and still choose peace.

What helped you feel safe & accepted at a yard?
Or what made you realise it was time to leave?

24/12/2025

Wishing all our customers old and new a very Merry Christmas and healthy happy 2026.

16/12/2025

Apparently you can watch some coverage as below.

https://londonhorseshow.com/?gad_source=1&gad_campaignid=22470652274&gclid=Cj0KCQiAo4TKBhDRARIsAGW29bdx5AAyisJFiPk7T2mwNbSnWxFoS1MPEoszJDjrzBpVFw_uTUd8sWQaAuamEALw_wcB

10/12/2025

💓 https://www.facebook.com/share/1BVrBfubZX/?mibextid=wwXIfr

“Confessions of a Riding School Saint”

Hello, human.
Yes, you — the one still trying to find the correct diagonal.

I’m the riding-school horse you meet once a week. You call me “steady,” “safe,” or, when I don’t immediately burst into extended trot, “lazy.” I’ve carried hundreds like you — some with bouncing enthusiasm, others with a death-grip on the reins and a look that says, “Please, not canter.”

Every rider brings their own style. Some kick like they’re starting a lawnmower. Some perch like a baby giraffe learning ballet. One even tried “natural horsemanship” by whispering at me for twenty minutes. (I admired the effort, but grass would have been more persuasive.)

I do my best to translate. But it’s tricky when one person wants me to go forward, the next to collect, and the next to “just feel the rhythm” while clamping both legs and pulling on my face. You’d be confused too.

Sometimes, when the messages get too loud or too mixed, I tune out. You call it “lazy.” I call it “self-preservation.” You see, my job isn’t easy — I must keep everyone safe while pretending your seat bones aren’t trying to send Morse code in three languages at once.

I’ve met every training philosophy going: “forward fixes everything,” “never use the leg,” “ride from the seat,” and my favorite — “just sit deeper!” (Usually shouted as the rider performs a mid-arena levitation.)

But I’ve also met kindness. The quiet rider who remembers to breathe, softens their hand, and says “good” when I try. That’s when I lift my back, stretch my neck, and remember what partnership feels like.

I don’t care about levels or ribbons. I care that you try to understand me. That you see me not as a piece of gym equipment but as a partner — one who has to process your nerves, your posture, and your Spotify playlist of contradictory aids.

So before you call a horse lazy, ask yourself: am I clear? Calm? Consistent?
Because the truth is, I’m not stubborn — I’m exhausted from reading mixed signals.

If you listen, I’ll listen. If you work on you, I’ll meet you halfway — maybe even with a flying change if I’m feeling fancy.

After all, I’m not just your ride. I’m your mirror, your teacher, and occasionally, your unpaid therapist.
Now, pat me. I’ve earned it.

Author: Gary A Diploma

05/12/2025

Watch out for shows in the new year.