Horsham-based female personal trainer, Becky, takes pride in getting to know her gym clients carefully, and understanding how they like to be coached. Here, she discusses how her own journey of learning to ride horses taught her some of the most important lessons about teaching others…
When I started learning to ride at the age of four, I had absolutely no idea that I was also finding out how (not) to teach. The equestrian world I grew up in was quite transient, with instructors regularly moving riding schools, as well as kids often being shuffled into different classes based mostly on their ability and confidence.
As a result, it often felt like I had as many human instructors as equine ones. Early on, I learned that each person has their own style, although they’re teaching the same thing. Riding school instructors at the time were notorious for being loud and strict (I suspect that not a lot has changed!), creating an environment where you had to learn fast to keep up. As with any sector, there are some questionable techniques out there, but when you can rummage through the dross, there are diamonds to be found. These are some of the best I learned from…
The Strict One
It’s 30 years since I was taught by the inimitable owner of a riding school in Kent – it was him and the stables I was devastated to leave when my parents relocated us due to my Dad’s job, rather than my actual school – but my family still regularly quotes this man. He was a quintessential disciplinarian, known for his love of mint humbugs and the kind of booming command that made you really sit up and pay attention.
Favourite lines in his arsenal were things like, “Kick that pony like that again, and I’ll kick you” (I’ll hasten to add that he never followed through on this threat), and to any chaperones stood watching the lesson, “If you want to lean on my fence, I’ll come and lean on you” (yes, there was a theme).
Bark being far worse than his bite, he taught us all well: we developed confidence, our basic skills in the saddle, and a true act of gratitude before such a thing was cool…
The biggest thing that this instructor was a stickler for was the last thing we all had to do before dismounting, without fail. At the end of the class, we’d ride our ponies back to the stable yard from the arena. We’d turn them side by side towards one of the precious fences, and would hear the command: “Make much of your pony”, which is to say, “give your horse a pat, and thank them for carrying you today, no matter what you think of their behaviour”.
Over 30 years later, before kicking my feet out of the stirrups, putting my reins in my left hand, and swinging my right leg well clear of the horse’s hindquarters in order to put myself back on the ground, I first give them a pat, and say, “thank you”.
The One Who’s Happy You’re Here
I don’t know this person’s name. I only saw them once, and I was neither in their class nor watching it. I was visiting a yard for tuition myself, spending a weekend on intensive lessons. And I saw an instructor starting a lesson with a group of children.
I’d spent the previous summer teaching kids myself, and had signed up to return for a second year. One of my boss’s criticisms of me had been how I handled beginners. Watching this stranger, a lightbulb went on.
He stood at the gate as his charges rode in, and high fived each young person. They all beamed in response and enthusiastically slapped his hand, giggling and getting in the mood to have fun.
I love riding. Often it’s fun. Sometimes, as someone who wants to improve, it’s quite serious. But not everyone wants that vibe. I learned that it’s ok to simply seek enjoyment, and that as the one in charge, you set the tone for what your clients get out of the session.
When I returned to my job that summer, one of the first comments I got from my boss was that I was, “so much better” with the beginners. Improvement AND fun? Nailed it, thanks to a perfect stranger.
The Four-legged Ones
Any horseperson will tell you that the horses are our greatest teachers. No matter how fleeting, the relationship between horse and rider is critical. Because horses are prey animals. They’re programmed to be terrified of us human predators. Convincing them otherwise involves a powerful degree of reconditioning beliefs… and all without using spoken language.
We all talk to our animals, of course. And some of them definitely learn certain words. But the vast majority are like Animal Farm’s Boxer – their intellect is equine, rather than primate, and so verbal reasoning gets you pretty much nowhere.
You have to breathe, and feel. They have to trust you in a way that they biologically shouldn’t. When they do, the magic really happens.
They can smell dishonesty a mile off, so it’s not so much sleight of hand as the words which go unspoken. And I know that those are the most powerful ones with my human clients too. I can tell them all I like that it’s ok to entrust their body to me. They learn that more effectively by me demonstrating it. Repeatedly.
Like my equine friends, my human ones teach me everything that I need to know, when I’m patient enough to listen.