07/06/2026
With the heat index pushing into the dangerous range this week, we've had to get creative with our lesson schedule to keep both horses and riders safe. I have absolutely loved seeing our dedicated riders up and in the saddle by 8:00 a.m., putting in the work so everyone is finished before the worst of the heat settles in.
As I sit in my chair and teach, I'm reminded of the young trainer I used to be. Every lesson was taught from inside the arena or right beside the horses. I was constantly adjusting riders, fixing tack, and stepping in to solve every little problem.
As we've grown, our ponies have become incredible teachers, and our students have become even more dedicated to learning. It's rare now that I need to step into the arena or even stand while teaching. We've created a culture of riders who know how to handle their own business, even when it isn't the easiest thing to do.
Now, don't get me wrong. We have some absolute saintly lesson horses. But they're still horses. They still enjoy grabbing a bite of grass, slowing to a walk when they should be trotting, or drifting toward the middle of the arena if their rider forgets to steer.
My teaching philosophy has changed over the years.
Let them figure it out.
Let them be a little frustrated.
Let them lose the rein and learn how to pick it back up.
Let them build the leg strength to keep the trot going.
Let them find the piece of equipment they need.
Let them learn how snug a girth should really be.
Because when they learn those things themselves, in the safety of the lesson arena, those lessons stay with them. They become riders who can solve problems instead of waiting for someone else to solve them.
These kids put in the hours doing the boring work, the frustrating work, and the physically demanding work. They aren't just becoming better riders. They're becoming athletes who think for themselves.
That mindset carries them through anything a well-meaning lesson pony can dream up. It prepares them for the sassiest mares, the blondest horses, and the greenest youngsters they'll ride one day.
Of course, I enjoy teaching from a chair these days. It certainly saves my back and feet because, let's be honest, horse trainer years are a lot like dog years. Your equestrian 30s feel suspiciously close to 80.
But what I love most is watching these riders think.
I love watching them work through a challenge before asking for help.
I love seeing them realize they can solve a problem they never thought they could.
And when they do need help, I love that they know it's okay to speak up and ask for it.
Those lessons reach far beyond horses.
Do the hard things while you're surrounded by people who will encourage you, coach you, and keep you safe. Learn when the stakes are low and the support is high.
Because one day you'll find yourself facing something difficult on your own.
And you'll realize...
You've done hard things before.
You'll know how to think.
You'll know how to adapt.
You'll know how to keep going.
And you'll be unstoppable.
