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Monday 9am - 7pm Tuesday 9am - 6:30pm Wednesday 9am - 8pm Thursday 9am - 6pm Friday 9am - 6:30pm Saturday 8:30am - 5pm

Barguse Riding Centre, The Grange, Barguse Farm, Saint Austell (2026)

12/06/2026

Your body isn't being difficult. It's being protective.

One of the most common things I hear from riders - and from parents at the gate - is some version of this:

I know I'm gripping. I know it's not helping. But I can't seem to stop.

Or: She knows she needs to sit up. We've told her. The coach has told her. She just keeps doing it.

Here's why.

When most people hear "nervous system protective response" they picture a dramatic moment. A fall. A bolt. A near miss. Those absolutely register. But that's not the whole picture.

The nervous system responds to anything unfamiliar. Anything it doesn't yet have a map for. The wind past your ears at speed. Not knowing where your body is in space. A live animal shifting unexpectedly beneath you. A transition that came a beat earlier than expected. None of these are dangerous. But to a nervous system still building its map of this sport - unfamiliar and unsafe can feel like the same thing.

And so it responds. Automatically. Before a single conscious thought.

The gripping knee isn't just tension - it creates a chain reaction. Seat lifts out of the saddle, lower leg swings back, hips stiffen, and the rider can no longer move with the horse. The horse feels it immediately. Most riders know this. You can find it on YouTube in thirty seconds. And yet when the nervous system fires, the knee grips anyway. Same with the vice-like hands, the hollowed back, the flared ribs. The knowledge is there. But knowledge and nervous system response operate on completely different tracks - and in that moment, the nervous system wins.

The cruel irony is that every one of those responses makes riding harder, not safer. The body tries to protect itself and creates the very instability it was trying to prevent.

I sometimes demonstrate this deliberately. I'll ask an experienced rider to brace, grip, hollow, hold on - and the group watches what happens to the horse. It tightens, shortens, resists. Then I ask that same rider to do the complete opposite. The horse changes. Same horse. Same rider. Completely different conversation. No amount of explanation does what that moment does.

This is also why a good coach is managing several things at once. Teaching a new technique requires the rider to try something unfamiliar - which the nervous system will read as uncertain. So whilst the technical instruction is happening, an experienced coach is simultaneously watching for the protective response firing in the background. Push too hard and the system overloads. Don't push enough and the skill never develops. Getting that balance right is one of the most nuanced parts of coaching well.

Knowing why your body does this doesn't immediately stop it. But understanding it changes your relationship with it. And that is where things start to shift.

01/06/2026

The culture of a lesson matters as much as the lesson itself.

There's something I ask at the end of every session, without fail.

What did you do well today? And what would you like to improve on next?

It might sound simple. But there's a reason it never gets skipped.

When a rider - of any age - is asked to reflect on their own session, something shifts. They stop being a passenger in their own development and start taking ownership of it. They notice things. They begin to understand that progress isn't something that happens to them. It's something they're part of.

That only works in a certain kind of environment. One where trying and getting it wrong isn't just tolerated - it's expected. Where a mistake isn't a failure, it's information. Where nobody is performing for the approval of the coach - they're genuinely attempting things because they feel able to.

Gareth Southgate spoke about this in the context of elite football - the idea that when players operate from a protective place, when the fear of getting it wrong outweighs the desire to try, they stay within their comfort zone. They don't push. They don't grow. The culture around them determines whether they feel safe enough to test their edges or whether they quietly retreat from them.

It's exactly the same in riding.

Riders who stop pushing at something the moment it doesn't go right. Who decide they can't rather than trying a different way. Who are so focused on not looking silly - in front of the coach, in front of the group - that they've stopped actually riding and started performing instead. That rider isn't going to develop. Not because they lack ability. Because the environment hasn't given them permission to fail.

You cannot get it right without first getting it wrong. That isn't a flaw in the process. That is the process. And the faster a rider internalises that, the faster the real progress begins - not just for them, but for their horse. Because a horse ridden by someone who is tense, guarded, and afraid to commit is a horse that finds its job harder than it should be. When a rider understands why they are developing these skills - for their own enjoyment and for the welfare of the animal beneath them - they become more motivated, not more pressured. They want to get it right. And that wanting, in an environment where getting it wrong is part of the journey, is where the best riding comes from.

This is why we ask every rider - child or adult, struggling or thriving - to name something they did well at the end of every session. When that becomes the culture of a group, nobody is watching anyone else and judging. Everyone is in it together. And that collective safety is what makes it possible to keep attempting, keep learning, and keep improving without the weight of self-consciousness getting in the way.

Creating that environment is as much a part of my job as any technical instruction I give. You can have the best coaching in the world. But if the person in front of you doesn't feel able to keep trying, none of it lands.

17/05/2026

Learning to ride isn't a straight line. It never was.

If you've ever felt like you were getting worse just when you thought you were getting better, this one is for you.

Learning any complex skill - and riding is one of the most complex there is - doesn't follow a smooth upward path. It feels more like a rollercoaster. And understanding why that is changes everything about how you experience the process.

When you start learning something new, it's hard. Your brain and body are working flat out just to process what's being asked of them. Gradually, with repetition and time, it starts to click. Things that felt impossible begin to feel possible. You find your trajectory and progress feels real.

And then you plateau.

This is not a problem. This is the point.

That plateau is where the skill embeds itself properly. Where what you've learned stops being something you have to think about and starts becoming something you just do. Staying in that place for a while - consolidating before moving on - is not stagnation. It's the foundation for everything that comes next. Think of each point of consolidation as a gatekeeper - building a buffer around your progress so that if you have a wobble further down the line, you won't go all the way back to the beginning. You'll only ever regress to your last point of embedding.

This is also why rushing that process works against you. Ask too much too soon and the nervous system doesn't just struggle - it pulls back. The comfort zone shrinks rather than grows. And what felt like a shortcut becomes a much longer road.
Then we ask something new of you. And for a while, it feels like you've gone backwards.

You haven't.

Nobody learns a new skill without getting it wrong first. That's not a detour from the process - it is the process. You're gathering information. Working out what works and what doesn't. Your brain is doing exactly what it's supposed to do, it just doesn't feel that way from the inside.

This is why we don't rush progression. Not because we don't believe in you. Because we understand what learning actually looks like - and we'd rather you embed something properly than move on before you're ready and spend twice as long unpicking it later.

The rollercoaster isn't a sign something is wrong. It's a sign something is happening.

10/05/2026

Why repeating myself is part of my job.

I wrote this originally for my dedicated mindset coaching page and it seemed to resonate, so I wanted to share it here too.

A rider apologised to me recently.

Not for anything she'd done wrong. She apologised for needing me to repeat myself. Said she felt stupid. Wondered out loud whether I must get frustrated going over the same things again and again.

I want to address that. Because I suspect she's not the only one who feels this way - and I'd imagine more than a few parents have wondered the same thing from the other side of the fence.

Repeating myself is part of my job. Not a sign that you're failing. Not a reflection of your ability. Just how learning actually works.

Your brain has a finite number of slots available at any one time. When you're concentrating hard - processing instruction, managing your horse, maintaining your position, thinking about what comes next - those slots fill up fast. There's only so much the brain can hold at once before new information simply doesn't land.

This is why a rider can hear something in a lesson, understand it in the moment, and then seemingly forget it the next time. The brain wasn't ready to file it yet. It needed more repetitions, more time, more space. And sometimes it needed the same thing explained from a different angle entirely - because the way information is delivered matters just as much as how often it's repeated. Finding the explanation that finally lands is part of the process too.

But here's what happens when something is truly mastered. It stops needing a slot. It becomes automatic - and suddenly there's space for the next piece of information to come in. That's not stupidity. That's exactly how the brain is supposed to work.

Learning a new skill is frustrating. That frustration is the brain's way of keeping you engaged - still searching for the answer, not yet ready to give up. It means you're in the process. Not stuck. In it.

So no. I don't get frustrated repeating myself. I get sad when riders apologise for being human.

27/04/2026

If I had a pound for every time I've had this call.

They used to be so confident. I don't know what happened. They just don't seem like the same child anymore.

It usually starts with a pony. Owned or loaned. One that felt exciting at the time - forward, fizzy, full of energy. And then something happened. The pony took off. Bucked. Felt like too much. And the child who used to canter around without a second thought is now standing at the gate not wanting to get on.

This is more common than most people realise. And there's a very specific reason it happens.

When the brain and body experience something that feels threatening - a pony that bolts, bucks, or simply feels out of control - the nervous system registers it. That's its job. But when that experience happens repeatedly, or when it happens before a rider has the physical or emotional resources to process it, the nervous system doesn't just remember it. It consolidates it. It strengthens the response. And in doing so, it begins to create more distance between the rider and anything that feels like that threat again.

The comfort zone doesn't stay the same size. It shrinks. Which is why the child in front of you no longer resembles the confident rider they were. They haven't become less capable. Their nervous system has become more protective. Those are very different things, and they need a very different response.

This is also why putting that rider back on a forward, energetic horse isn't the answer. A rider carrying tension sends a signal and a reactive horse will respond to it in one of two ways. Some will move into flight, reading the rigidity as a fear response and reacting accordingly. Others will absorb the blocked energy, becoming more tense and harder to ride as that energy builds with nowhere to go. Either way, the conversation between two nervous systems has broken down and the rider is in a harder situation than the one they started in.

Matching a rider to the right horse at the right stage of their development isn't about limiting them. It's about protecting the progress they've already made, and giving their nervous system the conditions to build confidence progressively and consolidate it - quietly, consistently, and without being asked to do something it isn't ready for yet.

Getting that match right is one of the most important things we do.

15/04/2026

Can we try a faster pony?

It's one of the most common things we hear.

Can they try a faster pony? They can't seem to get this one going.

It's a completely understandable thing to ask. If the pony isn't moving forward, a more forward-going pony seems like the obvious solution.

But here's what's usually actually happening.

When a rider is learning - whether they're working on position, trying to coordinate their aids, or simply still finding their confidence - their body braces. Not because they're doing anything wrong. It's an entirely natural response to the demands of something new and physically complex. But a braced body is a body that restricts movement. And horses feel that.

A pony that might otherwise move quite willingly will naturally find it harder to go forward when the rider on top is holding on, gripping, or locked through their back and pelvis. The restriction travels both ways. It isn't the pony being lazy. It isn't the rider being weak. It's two bodies trying to find a language they don't quite share yet.

Putting that same rider on a more forward-going pony doesn't solve the problem - it transfers it. A naturally more energetic horse with a rider who is braced and uncertain is a more difficult combination, not an easier one.

What we work on instead is helping the rider understand something that isn't always obvious: horses are not machines. They have a nervous system just like ours. They read our bodies - our tension, our weight, our stillness - and they mirror what they feel. A rider who is braced will feel that reflected back from the horse beneath them, because the horse is responding to exactly what it's being given.

Horses also don't automatically know the most efficient way to move their feet under a rider. Part of our job and part of what we teach our riders to understand, is how to educate the horse gently and consistently, so the communication becomes clearer for both of them.

This is biomechanics. It's behaviour. It's nervous system awareness - theirs and ours. It's understanding how the rider's body state translates directly into what the horse experiences.

Sometimes the clearest way to show this is to demonstrate it. We've swapped riders mid-session - moved a rider who's been struggling to get a horse forward onto one that another rider has had going beautifully, and vice versa. Within moments, the horse that was forward is reluctant, and the one that wasn't is moving. Same horses. Different bodies on top. The horse tells you everything you need to know.

The answer to "can we try a faster pony" is almost always no. But the reason behind that answer is where the real coaching lives. 😊

02/04/2026

Over the years I've coached a lot of adult riders, and there are certain things I hear again and again. Usually said quietly, often with a slightly nervous laugh.

"Sorry, I know I'm being silly."
" I don't know why I can't just relax."
" I was fine last week."
" I used to be able to do this."

That last one is worth pausing on.

When your body tightens in the saddle (legs gripping, breathing shallowing, something quietly saying not today) it might be approaching a canter transition, a jump, or simply something that sits just outside your comfort zone right now.

That isn't weakness and it isn't a riding problem. It's your nervous system's protective response mechanism stepping in, doing exactly what it's supposed to do. It has assessed the situation, decided there's a degree of risk, and responded automatically.
You didn't choose it. You can't think your way out of it in the moment.

But understanding where it comes from can change everything.

Adult riders carry a different kind of weight into the saddle. There are real responsibilities outside the gate; jobs, families, people who depend on you. Your brain factors that in, even when you'd rather it didn't. The consequence of getting hurt isn't abstract. It's your life. So the protective response isn't irrational. It makes complete sense.

Then there's the body's memory.

If you've had a fall (even years ago, even one you'd describe as minor) your nervous system may have filed it away in a way your conscious mind hasn't. You don't need to be thinking about it. A particular movement, a loss of balance, a feeling that resembles that moment, and your body is already responding to something from the past. It's not imagining danger. It's pattern-matching, trying to protect you, based on everything it's learned.

And for older riders especially, it isn't always about riding at all. We accumulate experiences over a lifetime. Stress responses, difficult periods, things that have nothing to do with horses but that live in the body nonetheless. Riding asks you to trust your body, and trust an animal, at the same time. And horses are sensitive to what we bring with us. They mirror our nervous system state whether we intend them to or not 👉 which means the work we do on the inside shows up very clearly on the outside.

None of this is weakness. None of it is something to apologise for.

It's important to understand that what looks like a confidence problem is often a regulation problem. The two things need very different responses. Telling a rider to relax doesn't work. It never did.

With the right knowledge, support, and time, this response can be changed so that the same pattern is interrupted rather than repeated.

We don't expect riders to leave life at the gate. We just help them work with what they've brought in.

22/03/2026

When parents watch their child's lessons, it can sometimes be hard to understand what we're doing and why.

Why are they on that pony again? Why haven't we moved them up yet? Why does it feel like we're going over the same things?

Here's what's actually happening.

Learning to ride (really ride) isn't linear. There are periods where we deliberately consolidate what a rider already knows before we ask anything new of them. That plateau isn't stagnation. It's where confidence quietly roots itself.

When we feel the time is right, we'll stretch their comfort zone but carefully, and in a way that gives them room to flex, test, and adapt. A new pony. A different challenge. A situation they haven't quite met before.

This is intentional.

It would be easy to keep a child on the same horse every week. Familiar is comfortable. But we want every rider to understand that their confidence belongs to them 👉 not to the pony they happen to be on. That's a very different thing, and it changes everything about how they develop.

After every session, we take notes. We also ask each rider to tell us one thing they did well, and one thing they want to work on. Not because we need the information but because we want them to feel part of their own journey.

To notice their own progress. To build the kind of self-awareness that makes a genuinely good rider, not just a capable one.

It's the mindset side of riding, and for us, it starts from day one.

This approach takes longer. It's meant to.

15/03/2026

Some of the most important improvements we see aren’t dramatic.

A rider sitting more quietly in the saddle.
A transition that feels smoother than it did last month.
A horse that relaxes a little sooner.

Progress often looks ordinary from the outside. We notice it anyway.

07/03/2026

Riding school horses are often described as “easy”.

The reality is they’re individuals with their own histories, habits and opinions and they require correct, thoughtful riding.

Good riding here doesn’t come from the horse doing the job for you.
It comes from balance, timing and feel, built steadily over time.

Barguse Riding Centre

12/06/2026

01/06/2026

17/05/2026

10/05/2026

27/04/2026

15/04/2026

02/04/2026

22/03/2026

15/03/2026

07/03/2026

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Monday	9am - 7pm
Tuesday	9am - 6:30pm
Wednesday	9am - 8pm
Thursday	9am - 6pm
Friday	9am - 6:30pm
Saturday	8:30am - 5pm