EquiBalance Equestrian

08/26/2026

I had a conversation with a student today that’s worth sharing. Recently, I told this rider that there is simply no alternative to riding if you want to improve. Read the articles or books, watch the videos, do whatever you want to do… but the only way to get good at riding is by riding.

So that’s what she did. She’s been showing up and riding the horse. And lo and behold… IMPROVEMENT!

We did the math today. The most any of my students do a week with me is 2 hours. 2 lessons a week. That’s 2 of the 168 hours that each week brings. As the trainer, I am not responsible for what you do for the other 166 or 167 hours of your week. If you don’t show up and ride and practice in between lessons, that’s on you. It’s my job to give you 100% of myself for that hour, and give you tools to work on in between lessons. That is a recipe for growth.

And that’s what growth takes. I doubt any football player would play 1 hour a week and expect to be on the starting bench. Riding is the same, with one major difference. That difference being that we climb aboard giant animals that are sentient and deserve a knowledgeable, well-intended, and capable rider. The horses don’t get a say in this journey so it’s the least we can do for them to be the best we can be.

If you lesson twice a week, what are you doing with your remaining 166 hours a week? What role are you playing in your own progress?

Show up or be quiet about it.

Sincerely, every trainer out there
Jessica Scroutt

08/19/2026

There comes a point in a rider's development where constantly correcting every little thing can actually start getting in the way of their progress. There comes a point that good riding eventually requires the ability to notice, assess, adjust, and problem solve without waiting for someone on the rail to provide the answer.

A beginner needs plenty of direction but as riders become more capable, part of our job as riding instructors is gradually shifting from telling them what to do to teaching them how to figure out what needs to be done and that is how independent riders are built.

1. Understand where your student actually is.
Independence develops in stages. A brand new beginner needs significant direct support to stay safe and develop basic competence. An intermediate rider should begin identifying some of their own mistakes. An advanced rider should increasingly be able to problem solve in real time, with their instructor providing refinement, perspective, and guidance. One of the hardest instructional skills is knowing when to step in and when to give the rider another few seconds to work something out.

2. Start asking before you start correcting.
Instead of immediately saying "More outside rein" try...
What do you feel?
What can you change?
What happened differently that time?

If the rider can identify the problem and come up with an appropriate correction, you have taught them far more than you would have by simply giving them the answer. If they cannot figure it out? That is when you step in and teach.

3. Let safe mistakes give them information.
Not every mistake needs to be prevented. A horse drifting off the track because the rider lost the outside aids can sometimes teach more than hearing "outside rein" for the tenth time. Let the rider experience the result and then ask...
What happened?
What could you change next time?

Safe, controlled mistakes give riders information they eventually need to recognize without an instructor standing beside them.

4. Make your praise specific.
"Good job" feels nice but "You corrected the bend before I said anything and he stayed balanced through the entire corner" teaches the rider exactly what worked. Specific praise helps riders develop their own internal feedback system.

Eventually you want riders thinking...
- That felt better
- He fell through his shoulder there
- I lost my rhythm
- I need to rebalance before the corner

That internal conversation is a huge part of becoming a capable rider.

5. Sometimes it is intentionally saying nothing.
Silence from an instructor does not always mean we missed something but sometimes it means we are giving the rider space to notice it first. You do not have to correct every crooked step, imperfect transition, missed bend, or momentary loss of rhythm the instant it happens. Give them a few seconds and see whether they recognize it. Then see whether they fix it and then decide whether your input is actually needed.

Our goal is to create riders who can ride without needing constant instruction. Riders who can think. Riders who can feel and riders who can make decisions. Riders who can recognize when something is not working and have enough tools in their toolbox to try something different.

One of the best things we can eventually hear from a student is "I felt that. I know what I did wrong. Let me try it again." That is not a student who needs you less, it is a student who has learned from you well.

How do you encourage your students to start thinking for themselves instead of waiting for the next instruction from the rail?

08/18/2026

08/14/2026

I have taught a lot of riders over a lot of years. Talented ones who plateaued because they stopped being open to correction. Struggling ones who improved faster than anyone expected because they showed up every single week ready to try something different. Riding ability matters but YOUR attitude matters more.

Here is what being a teachable rider actually looks like in practice...

1. Show up ready to learn, not ready to perform.
There is a difference between a student who comes to a lesson wanting to look good and one who comes wanting to get better. The first one hears a correction and gets defensive. The second one hears a correction and tries it. One of those riders improves every week. The other one comes back for years without moving forward and never quite understands why.

2. Empty your cup before you arrive.
If you are coming to your lesson with your previous trainer's voice in your head, a bad day at work sitting on your shoulders, or a conviction that you already know how to do the thing I am about to teach you then there is no room for anything new to get in. Leave it in the car. Leave it at the gate. Whatever happened before you got on the horse is not useful to you in the saddle right now. What is useful is being present, open, and genuinely curious about what this lesson has to offer.

3. Be slow to react and quick to listen.
When I give a correction, the instinct for a lot of riders is to immediately explain why they did what they did "I know my hands are stiff because I am nervous". Probably true but also not the point. Listen first, try it first, and then ask questions after. The explanation of why something went wrong is almost always less useful than the experience of what happens when you change it.

4. Be willing to go backwards to go forward.
Some of the most important lessons I have ever taught happened when we put something down and went back to a simpler version of it. A rider who is willing to go back to trot poles when their jumping falls apart gets their jumping back faster than one who insists on keeping the fence up. Progress is not always a straight line and the riders who understand that are the ones who make it furthest in the long run.

5. Bring your effort even on the days you do not feel it.
You will have lessons where nothing clicks. Where your body is stiff or you and your horse are just not cohesive as usual and the exercise that worked last week feels completely foreign today. Those lessons are not wasted, they are just part of the process. Show up anyway and give it a try. The riders who push through the bad days without giving up on themselves are the ones still riding ten years from now.

6. Your instructor is on your side.
Every correction I give comes from one place... I want you to ride better. Not because it reflects on me but because I genuinely care about your progress and I can see what is possible for you even when you cannot see it yourself. Let that land and trust the process. The lessons that feel the most frustrating are almost always the ones right before something clicks.

The most talented rider in the arena is not always the one who improves the most, it is the most teachable one! So be that rider. Your horse will thank you and so will your instructor.

What is the most important thing you have ever learned about being a good student of riding?

08/13/2026

Unpopular opinion: A bit isn’t only as soft as the hands using it. A bit is as soft as the HORSE allows it to be.

Before everyone gets fired up—hear me out.

There’s a huge difference between being rough and being effective.
When I pick up on a horse, I start soft. Always.
I ask with the least amount of pressure I think that horse can understand.

But if I get no response?
The pressure increases.

And it continues to increase until I get the response I’m looking for—or even an honest step toward the right answer.
Then?
I release. Immediately.
Because a horse doesn’t learn from me pulling on him.
A horse learns when the pressure goes away.

That’s the part I think sometimes gets lost in the conversation about “soft hands.”
Soft hands don’t mean hands that never increase pressure.
To me, good hands are fair hands.

Hands that ask quietly first.
Hands that escalate when necessary.
Hands that recognize the smallest try.
And most importantly, hands that know exactly when to RELEASE.

There are phases to making a finished horse.
In the beginning, I might have to ask a question at a 1.
No answer? I go to a 2.
Still nothing? A 3.
And I will continue increasing until that horse says, “Oh. THAT’S what you wanted.”

Then everything goes quiet.

Pretty soon, he answers at a 3.
Then a 2.
Eventually?
He answers at a 1.
That’s softness.

And that’s the part people don’t always see when they watch a finished horse floating around on a loose rein with someone barely moving their fingers.
That horse wasn’t necessarily born understanding those tiny cues.
He was taught to become responsive to them.

I don’t believe being fair to a horse means never making him uncomfortable.
I believe being fair means making the answer incredibly clear.
Ask softly.
Increase when necessary.
Recognize the try.
Release immediately.

And repeat it until eventually the whisper is enough.
The goal isn’t to use more pressure.
The goal is to educate the horse until you need less of it.

That, to me, is what a truly soft horse looks like.

08/08/2026

Today I refused to get on a client’s horse.

Not because I didn’t want to.

Because it would have been the least helpful thing I could have done.

The rider was struggling with the canter transition.

One of those classic situations where the issue wasn’t ability.

It was timing.

She’d ask.

Nothing.

Ask again.

Still nothing.

You could see the frustration building with every attempt.

So we changed the exercise. Broke it down. Made it simpler. Started rebuilding the pieces.

Then came the words I hear all too often…

“Will you just get on her and do it?”

“No.”

The look on her face suggested she’d expected a very different answer.

So I explained why.

Could I have got the transition?

Almost certainly.

I’ve ridden thousands of them. I know the timing. I know the feel.

But that wouldn’t have solved the real problem.

In fact, it probably would have made things worse.

Firstly, she’d already started doubting herself. Watching me hop on and make it look easy would only reinforce the story that I can do it… but she can’t.

Secondly…

I don’t need the practice.

She does.

My job isn’t to prove I can ride.

My job is to help someone else become a better rider.

That means giving them the opportunity to discover the feel for themselves.

To make mistakes.

To adjust.

To try again.

Because that’s where learning lives.

As coaches, it’s tempting to reach for the cheat code.

Jump on.

Fix the problem.

Everyone feels better for five minutes.

But has the rider actually learned anything?

Sometimes, yes, I’ll have a quick sit. There are occasions where it genuinely gives valuable information or helps the horse understand something.

But that’s never my first option.

My first responsibility is to the partnership standing in front of me.

To give the rider the tools, the understanding and the confidence to solve the problem themselves.

Because the goal has never been for my clients to need me forever.

The goal is for them to become the rider their horse needs.

If that’s the kind of coaching you’ve been looking for—where understanding comes before shortcuts—you’d fit right in inside the Informed Equestrians community. We’d love to welcome you.

Katie

08/06/2026

This right here is why I love my job….for the woman who put everyone else first….

🐴 She stopped riding at twenty-two, the way most people stop things — not all at once, but in layers.

First came the job that required too much travel. Then the wedding, the apartment, the mortgage. Then the children, one and then another, and the years that followed where her own wants were the last item on any list.

Twenty years passed. Her youngest left for college in August.

Her daughter — the one who used to ask why Mommy never rode horses like she used to love — bought her a birthday lesson as a gift. She almost didn't go.

The instructor put her on an old bay mare. Calm animal. Experienced. Patient in the way that only a horse who has carried hundreds of nervous riders can be.

She barely made it through the walk before her throat closed.

By the time they reached the trot, she was crying in a way she hadn't in years — not exactly from sadness, but from recognition. Something she thought was gone was still there. It had been waiting.

She didn't speak for most of the drive home. When her daughter asked how it was, she said: it was like meeting myself again.

Is there something you once gave up that you eventually found your way back to?