Inside Track Training, LLC

11/23/2025

WHY DID I STOP COMPETING?

I was recently talking to somebody about the good ‘ol days when I was serious about competing in dressage and jumping. We swapped tall stories about our adventures.

I mentioned the time I had a stomach bug and was throwing up badly just before the finals, yet I still managed to win the event. My friend told me about the time he competed with 2 broken fingers. I countered by detailing how I came first in a jump event despite having a broken arm. The person I was speaking to described the time he won a GP dressage test on a horse that had a heart attack halfway through the test, and he had to give mouth-to-mouth to revive it in order to finish the test. I said I can beat that with the time I won a 6-bar competition jumping 6ft 6inches, even though my horse was blind and only had 2 legs. “Oh yeah”, my friend retorted. “Well, my horse died the day before the European Championship freestyle event, and we still won!”

I realised I couldn’t beat that.

But this raises the question, “Why did I compete?”

In the beginning, I competed because it was fun and it made me part of a fraternity of people who also liked to compete. Over time, I used competition to give me direction and a purpose to the type of riding and training I wanted to do. This eventually evolved into using competition as a gauge of what sort of rider and trainer I was, and what sort of instruction I needed to seek.

But one day I stopped. It was all of a sudden. I got out of bed and was on my way to the stables when I had a revelation. In a flash, I decided competing in horse events was no longer for me.

What was this life-changing revelation?

It was the realisation that the enjoyment I got from competing depended on doing well. When I came home with ribbons, it was a good day. I would spoil my horse that night with extra treats. Be jovial to all my family and friends. But if I failed to earn ribbons and prizes, it was a horrible day that put me in a foul mood. I was cranky at myself. I was cranky with my horse, and I was cranky with anybody who tried to cheer me up.

Clearly, this was a big character flaw, and I needed to make some changes. So it began with forgetting about competing. When I did that, it opened up other avenues of working with horses. Over time, my focus slowly switched to the quality of my relationship with horses. Gradually, my priorities changed.

What I learned when I gave up worrying about success in the show ring is that every day that I spend with my horse is a good day. I don’t need to win ribbons for it to be a good day. I could come last in every event and have a fantastic day because I spent it with one of my best mates.

I could go on a trail ride and have my horse freak out at the sight of a kangaroo, and it could be a fantastic day because I helped my mate through something, and I learned from it.

I could be exhausted at the end of a clinic and just want to sleep for a week. But it could be a wonderful few days because I helped people with their horses. My life is better because I helped people and horses who needed some help.

I could return to competition disciplines now because I know I don’t need to win in order to have a good day. But competition no longer interests me, as it did when I was young, because I know every day that I am around my horses is a good day, no matter what we do. Going home with a ribbon is not going to change that. If you can say the same, I absolutely encourage you in your pursuit of having a good day with your horse in the show ring - win or lose.

11/23/2025

Amy Skinner has just been hitting it out of the park lately. This one hit hard.

Horses will meet you exactly where you are—whether you know where that is or not.

One of the hardest truths in horsemanship is that you cannot separate the rider from the human being riding. You can learn theory, techniques, and timing—but if you don’t know what drives you at a deeper level, your horse will feel that gap long before you do.

Most of us move through the world with old narratives still running without our awareness in the background. Maybe you were taught, directly or indirectly, that you were small, inconvenient, or unimportant. Maybe you learned to keep your head down, not make waves, not ask for much. Or maybe you learned to overcompensate: to become hyper independent, to feel important.

Those early experiences don’t stay in childhood; they become the lens you see yourself through, and the filter you misinterpret the world through.

And the horse—sensitive, perceptive, honest—becomes a mirror for every part of that story.

A horse refusing or resisting becomes “rejection.”
A moment of hesitation becomes “I’m not good enough.”
A correction feels like conflict, and conflict feels dangerous.
Or, the opposite—you search for conflict because you expect it, and it feels safer to control it than wait for it.

None of this comes from malice. It comes from the unexamined places inside us, mirrored in the world around us.

But a horse isn’t rejecting you. A horse isn’t judging your worth. A horse isn’t reenacting the dynamics of your childhood. They are responding to the energy you bring, the clarity you offer, and the steadiness—or lack of it—behind your choices.

When we don’t know what drives us, we keep repeating the same emotional choreography over and over, in the barn and everywhere else. We avoid setting boundaries because we fear being “too much.” We micromanage because we fear losing control. We rush because we fear being behind. We freeze because we fear doing something wrong.

The real work is not really about the horse. It’s about getting curious about ourselves. Identifying the motives that subconsciously steer our hands, our timing, our expectations, our reactions. Asking, Where did this pattern come from? Who taught me this? And is it actually true?

Because once you see your own story clearly, the horse stops being a mirror of your inadequacy and becomes a partner in your growth.

Horses don’t need us to be perfect. They just need us to be honest—especially with ourselves.

And when we learn to operate from clarity instead of old wounds, our work with them becomes lighter, cleaner, more present… and our whole life tends to follow.

11/23/2025

Dang! She beat me to it! This should look very familiar to most of my students! 😁

11/23/2025

"He feels unbalanced, like he's limping! We need to stop," my student says.

"The tempo is too slow, he needs a greater stride. As soon as he can get the right tempo he will be more balanced."

My student goes into a kind of fetal mode, half urging the horse forward, half hauling the horse back. "It isn't working, she says."

"You need to let the reins out so he can go forward," I say.

She starts to cry. And this is where I realize the problem -

It's not really a riding lesson. This is so often the case - and I think back to my 20's, where I didn't have a clue about these inner workings. The horse needs to go forward to be safe internally and physically, and yet this is the human's greatest fear - and somehow the two of them have come together, and the human is the only one who can bridge this gap.

So we pause the riding and we talk. Logic is not the answer, I remind myself - where are these feelings coming from? It all stems back to a childhood bolt.

"If it's hysterical, it's historical," I remember to myself, a quote I heard from a friend

So what is missing here, and how can we go forward? First understanding the root - we are not riding in the now, we are riding in that childhood bolt. So we ground - how does your horse feel, sound, smell, look? What do you see around you?

And then, we discuss what skills we need to go forward. What the horse needs, and what she needs.

I say, I understand your fear, I really do - but it is imperative that you guide your horse. He is scared too. But we can find a way that you can stay mentally with him - in hand, at the walk, for now, but you have to stay here with him. He needs you.

I'm not a therapist, but it turns out I'm not really a riding instructor either. And so often, we are not riding today's horse - which is why the training, the logic, the reasoning, the lessons are not helping us get where we want.

The root, somewhere deep down is buried. Our real task is to find a way to ride today's horse: to be present with today's horse and learn to honor them. They need us, desperately. And only we can bridge the gap.

And so a choice has to be made at a certain point - what will you do to honor today's horse?

11/22/2025

Unsafe or Uncomfortable?

With the rise in interest in boundaries and mental health, a lot of good things have happened. But some fallback from misunderstanding has taken place, and one of them is the complete fear and avoidance of discomfort - mistaking it for lack of safety.

One of the most important distinctions we can make in our personal growth is the difference between unsafe and uncomfortable.
Most people collapse the two, and the cost of that confusion is enormous.

Unsafe means your well-being is at risk. Your boundaries are being violated, your body or mind is in danger, or something about the situation requires real protection.

Uncomfortable, however, is very different. It’s the sensation of stretching beyond what’s familiar. It’s what happens when you try a new skill, confront a belief, tell the truth, hold a boundary, or sit with a feeling instead of escaping it. Discomfort is the friction of growth.

The trouble is, when discomfort feels foreign or intense, the nervous system can label it as “unsafe,” even when nothing is actually threatening you. And if we obey that false alarm, we start organizing our entire lives around avoiding discomfort.

That’s where long-term anxiety and neurosis begin.

When we avoid discomfort:
-We stop developing the skills we need to handle life.
-We reinforce the belief that we can’t handle hard things.
-We shrink our world to stay within the boundaries of what feels easy.
-Our fear grows louder because we never disconfirm it with experience.
-We become hyper-vigilant, sensitive to small internal cues, and dependent on certainty before we act.

Avoiding discomfort might feel like short-term relief, but it leads to long-term fragility. The ramifications are real.

Growth always asks something of us: courage, presence, effort, humility. None of those are “comfortable” qualities. But they’re what build a resilient nervous system.

If you can learn to pause in the moment and ask yourself:

“Am I unsafe… or just uncomfortable?”

You open the doorway to opportunity.

If it’s unsafe, protect yourself.

But if it’s merely uncomfortable, stay. Breathe. Let your mind and body learn that discomfort won’t break you.

Every time you choose discomfort on purpose, you expand your capacity. You train yourself to live with more freedom and less fear. You build a self that feels stable on the inside instead of one that must tightly control the outside world.

Discomfort is not the enemy: It’s the doorway to everything you want.

Photo by Caitlin Hatch

11/19/2025

I’ve been going back and readdressing this to many students lately. This is one of the very basic skills riders should be utilizing. Combine this with a steady tempo and you will feel your horse get more accessible to all of your aides and because they are able to balance and carry then their rideability improves drastically.

11/16/2025

I’ve recently become slightly obsessed with the role of fascia in both horses and humans…

Fascia, Fascia, Fascia: The Updated Map of the Body’s Connective Network

There is a newer, more formal classification of the fascial system that is becoming increasingly recognized in equine anatomy.

Here’s the clear summary of the most current view:

The New Classification of the Fascial System

The Fascia Research Society (FRS) and the Federative International Programme for Anatomical Terminology (FIPAT) have outlined a modern, unified classification that moves far beyond the older “superficial vs. deep fascia” model.

The contemporary definition sees fascia as a body-wide, three-dimensional, continuous connective-tissue network, and the system is divided into four major categories:

1. Superficial Fascia
• Located just under the skin
• Highly hydrated, rich in nerves
• Houses adipose tissue
• Major role in sensory input, thermoregulation, glide, and fluid dynamics

2. Deep/Muscular Fascia
• Dense connective tissue around muscles, bones, tendons, ligaments
• Includes epimysium, perimysium, endomysium
• Responsible for force transmission (including epimuscular force transmission)
• Major role in proprioception and muscle coordination

3. Visceral Fascia (Splanchnic Fascia)
• Connective tissue surrounding and suspending organs
• Includes mesentery, pleura, pericardium, mediastinum
• Involved in visceral mobility, stability, motility, and visceral–somatic pain patterns

4. Neural Fascia (Meningeal Fascia)
• Envelops and supports the nervous system
• Includes dura mater, epineurium, perineurium, and endoneurium
• Critical for neural glide, tension regulation, and mechanosensory input

The Most Important Shift

The new classification is based on the concept of the “fascial continuum” — meaning:

Fascia is not a collection of separate sheets but a continuous organ system with regional specializations.

This reclassification also aligns with the concept of fascia as an organ of communication, integrating:
• mechanical sensing
• proprioception
• nociception
• autonomic regulation
• fluid dynamics
• force transmission
• inflammatory responses

Relevance to Equine Science, Massage & Bodywork

For horses, this classification is extremely helpful because:
• The visceral fascia explains referred pain patterns (as in ulcer-induced movement changes).
• The deep fascial system explains global force transmission and compensatory patterns.
• The neural fascia helps explain vagal tone, autonomic responses, and tension patterns.
• The superficial fascia relates heavily to sensation, bracing, coat changes, edema, and swelling.

This is why equine movement, posture, and pain can reflect problems far from the apparent site.

https://koperequine.com/there-are-4-categories-of-fascia/

11/16/2025

11/14/2025

This looks soooo fun to do and I love this horse!