21/12/2025
REAL riding … & then the rest comes easier. Lucky if you had this 🥰
𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠
Growing up riding in Ireland, I genuinely thought this was just how riding worked. You went to a riding school, you rode in an arena… and then you were sent out into a field to face whatever solid, slightly questionable fence had been living there since the 1980s and looking back now as a coach, I realise just how lucky I was.
No one made a big song and dance about it. You didn’t book a cross-country clinic. You just… went cross-country.
The riding schools I went to were nothing fancy, but they all had land. One had access to a proper cross-country course, the other had a big field with a selection of jumps that absolutely did not move if you got it wrong. Somewhere along the way, Pony Club happened, but by then the bravery had already been installed.
You learned very quickly how to find your brave pants. There was no standing around discussing feelings. You were told to kick on, look up, and stop steering like you were parallel parking. You trusted your pony, trusted the process, and off you went usually with a mix of excitement and mild terror.
And the funny thing is, it worked.
Showjumping felt easier because you weren’t frightened of fences. New questions didn’t feel so dramatic. If you chipped in, met it long, or had a wobble, it was just part of riding not a life altering event that required a full debrief.
Fast forward to now, and the picture looks very different, especially in the UK.
So many riding schools don’t have access to land anymore. No fields. No cross-country fences. Insurance companies breaking out in a sweat at the very mention of the words solid jump. Everything happens neatly inside four white boards, with poles that fall down if you breathe on them too hard.
Now, don’t get me wrong arenas are brilliant. They teach accuracy, control, and how to ride a corner without ending up in the fence. But they don’t teach bravery in quite the same way.
Because bravery doesn’t come from riding perfect lines between coloured poles. Bravery comes from cantering across grass, feeling your heart rate go up, and thinking, I hope this works, while your pony thinks, we’re definitely doing this.
That moment when you commit, that’s where the big boy pants and big girl pants are earned.
Kids today are incredibly capable riders but I feel that bravery is missing spark somehow but I see Irish kids that still have the opportunities I did and by god the brave pants on by age 6/7, but many just don’t get the chance to ride outside the arena. And that’s not because they don’t want to it’s because the opportunities aren’t there.
So maybe it’s not about every riding school magically acquiring acres of land and a cross-country course. Let’s be realistic.
Maybe it’s about loading up the ponies, hiring a cross-country venue for the day, charging a set fee, and making it part of normal education again. Not an elite thing. Not a special treat. Just another way kids learn to ride.
Because confidence doesn’t suddenly appear at 90cm or at your first big event. It’s built years earlier in muddy fields, over solid fences, with slightly sweaty palms and massive grins.
And if you grew up riding like that, you’ll know exactly what I mean.
This picture is from 2013 so please don’t say about the stones, this was my brave pants moment on Vicky.