Acknowledge the try: Building Confidence, Motivation, and Empowerment

One of the most common questions we get asked is: "How do I know when to stop?" followed closely by "How do I know when to push for more?"

It's the tension every rider feels. You've just got a nice moment—maybe your horse offered a bit more softness, or they tried something new, or they stayed calm in a situation that usually triggers them. Do you quit while you're ahead? Or do you ask for one more repetition to really cement it?

Get it wrong and you risk either leaving progress on the table or drilling your horse into frustration and resentment. Get it right and you build something far more valuable than a single good session—you build a horse who wants to try.

If someone asked me what I consider most important when developing horses (and people, too), my answer would be simple: confidence, motivation, and empowerment.

These three qualities sit at the heart of everything I do, whether I'm helping someone create the safest hacking partner or preparing an athletic horse for top-level competition. And the golden thread that runs through all three? Acknowledge the try.

The try is that moment when your horse makes a positive effort—however small—to move the conversation towards your idea.

As riders, we often carry big goals in our heads. We want them to jump higher, sit deeper on their hocks, feel calmer, or respond more quickly. But the truth is, progress happens on the horse's timeline, not ours.

If they're already doing more than before, pushing for more is just being greedy. Ironically, if you acknowledge their effort instead of drilling on, the path towards your goal actually accelerates.

That's because horses are always searching for the path of least resistance. When something feels good, they'll do it again. When it earns a release of pressure that marks the moment they got it right—whether that's on a micro level that comes from just a softening of your request, or more obviously offering a quiet moment of rest to process—and it is followed by a reward (a scratch, a treat), it sticks.

The release tells them "yes, that's it," and the reward makes them want to try again. This is where understanding the difference between marking and rewarding becomes crucial. A lot of trainers talk about the release being a reward. It isn't—it's just a mark. The release tells the horse they got the answer right, but food, scratches, or rest provides the actual motivation and creates positive associations with the work.

Acknowledging the try is our way of saying: *"Yes, that's it—keep exploring this direction."*

Some of the most influential horsepeople I've worked with all, in their own way, echoed this principle.

Fred and Magali Pignon once advised us to spend just 5–15 minutes a day with Hercules, my partner's Friesian, at liberty. "Stop when it feels amazing," they said—and the progress was remarkable.

Roz Canter, after my horse jumped four fences faultlessly in a lesson, asked me to quit for the day. I'd driven three and a half hours, but she reminded me: "We couldn't have asked for more from him."

Elsa Sinclair, watching a horse flick an ear towards its handler for the first time, said simply: "Quit, or it might get worse."

Tik Maynard compares training horses to a bell curve—climb to the top, then stop before it slides downhill.

Again and again, the message is the same: stop on a high, and the horse will want to try again tomorrow.

Training horses often feels like playing a game together. You set it up, the horse guesses, you mark the right answer with a release of pressure, you reward with food or scratches, use rest as a motivator and the horse feels like a winner.

And like any good game, they want to play more.

Take my KWPN, Rufus. He's 17hh, so the pursuit of balance is our steady companion. Dressage isn't his favourite thing, so I'm careful and clever about what I ask for and when.

He learned to do his first half steps of piaffe on our hack path. I asked for more engagement behind and a lift through his shoulders. I felt a tiny change, then immediately released to mark that moment—a halt, loose rein. Then came the reward: scratches, a treat, grass! The timing is critical for helping condition the effort he put in with the release of my ask (which marks the behaviour) and the reward that comes as a consequence (which motivates him to try again).

He starts to feel like the puzzle solver who knows where the last piece fits. I want him to feel motivated to try, to offer things that naturally he might find hard. That's how motivation is born.

In our programme, acknowledging the try runs through all three stages, but it shows up differently in each:

At this stage, we're working on nervous system regulation and somatic release. Acknowledging the try here looks like recognizing when your horse can breathe, when they soften through their body, when they choose to stay present rather than checking out. We don't use food at this stage because we don't want to condition treats to tension. Instead, we mark the release with our pressure release and reward with the feeling of relaxation itself—stepping back, allowing rest, creating space.

This is where acknowledging the try becomes most obvious. Your horse is learning to think through puzzles, to understand what you're asking, to engage their mind. This is where food training really shines because it supercharges motivation. When your horse offers an ear forward, takes a step toward something they're unsure about, or thinks through a problem rather than reacting—that's the try. Mark it with your release, reward it with food or scratches, and watch them start to actively search for the answer.

Here we're building strength, rhythm, and balance. The try might look like your horse maintaining a gait for longer, finding their own balance through a turn, or offering more reach in their stride. The temptation at this stage is to drill for more, especially as it start to feel good but acknowledging even small improvements in physical ability builds the confidence in your horse to keep putting effort in.

People often ask: "If I always stop on the slightest effort, how do I make progress?"

Progress comes by layering. I use a simple sequence in my mind:

Can you... get the idea → maintain the idea → own the idea**

- Get the idea: Mark and reward even the smallest try

- Maintain the idea: Ask for a little more duration or consistency before releasing and rewarding

- Own the idea: When the horse understands so well they can carry it themselves with little input

Sometimes I move through this whole sequence in one session; sometimes it takes weeks. What matters is recognizing and celebrating effort at every stage.

Let's look at how this works in practice with a few common situations:

We’ve worked with hundreds of horses who were labelled as difficult, spooky, or “quirky,” only to uncover underlying pain that was never addressed. When the pain was treated — and the nervous system given time to unwind — the behaviours disappeared.

This is why we don’t rush. We don’t override. We don’t label horses as naughty. We look, we listen, and we give them space to show us the truth.

Your horse approaches the trailer and puts their nose on the ramp—mark and reward, even if their feet don't move. That's "get the idea." Next time, they put one foot up, they start looking up and inside the trailer, they start to touch parts of the partition with curiousity —mark and reward. They're maintaining the idea of investigating the trailer. Eventually, they walk on confidently, stand, eat hay, and breathe—they own the idea of the trailer being a safe place.

Your horse arrives at a new venue and can take a breath and look around rather than becoming completely overwhelmed—mark that moment by allowing them to stand and process, reward with a scratch. They're “getting the idea” that new places aren't threats. Next work through can you loosen your body in your warm up and "maintain the idea" of finding emotional regulation despite being somewhere new. Later can you “own the idea” of moving around the new venue in a forward thinking curious way.

One of my favourite ways to build both confidence and empowerment is groundwork. From the ground, you see more clearly how engaged the horse is—through their eyes, ears, posture, and expression.

Take ditches, for example. A horse might start out unable even to look at it. The sequence might go like this:

Can you look at it? Mark that moment when their ears go forward toward the ditch, stop asking, release the pressure, reward with food or a scratch.

Can you look in it? When they drop their head to investigate, that's the try—mark and reward.

Can you look over it? When their eyes track across to the other side, they're thinking about crossing, they see the world on the other side —mark and reward.

Can you put your feet across with my help? However they get over—scrambling, jumping, walking—if they commit their feet, that's a massive try. Mark it, reward it, make them feel like they just solved the hardest puzzle in the world.

Can you cross it with rhythm, softness, and little input from me? Now they own the idea.

Step by step, the horse tries, and step by step, you mark the try with your release and reward for the effort. Before long, what was once scary becomes easy. The horse feels empowered, confident, and motivated to try more.

This same sequence works whether you're asking your horse to go over poles, into water, onto a trailer, or to stand calmly for mounting. Break it down, acknowledge every try, and watch how quickly they build confidence.

This is where things get tricky. In lessons or competition, you may feel your horse has already given their all, while the trainer asks for more.

I've been there. Sometimes I've stopped early, explained my decision, and found the trainer respected me for acknowledging my horse's try. Other times, I've trusted their expertise, pushed through, and achieved something I couldn't have on my own.

Both choices are valid. The difference lies in the patterns you've built at home. If your horse is used to being rewarded for their efforts—if you've been putting deposits in the emotional bank account—they'll trust you enough to dig deeper when the pressure is on.

But here's the critical part: that trust only exists if you've been fair at home. If every session at home ends with them feeling like a failure, asking for more under pressure will just add to their trigger stack. If every session at home ends with them feeling like they won the game, they'll show up ready to play even when things are hard.

Confidence, more than anything, is what allows horses (and people) to learn. Low confidence is a killer for progress. It blocks you or the horse from trying for fear of failing, but every time you fail, it's just another try—just another piece of information about what doesn't work.

In any learning situation, we go to the part of the combination with the lowest confidence level, whether horse or human. A rider might dream of advanced goals on a horse that isn't able, or a horse may be capable of jumping 1m20 while the rider still worries about poles. Either way, confidence has to come first.

So what breeds confidence? For me, the answer lies in clarity and consistency.

When you ask in a clear, predictable way, your horse knows what's coming. They start to understand, and soon they're not just complying—they're offering. That's empowerment.

This is why our programme is structured the way it is. Stage 1 builds the emotional foundation so the horse can regulate their nervous system and stay present. Stage 2 builds the psychological foundation so they can think through problems and understand what you're asking. Stage 3 builds the physical foundation so they have the strength and balance to execute what they understand.

But none of it works if you don't acknowledge the try at every stage.

Acknowledging the try doesn't just make horses more willing—it helps them become clearer, more confident, and more responsive, regardless of your discipline.

One client's horse was terrified of crowds. Whether it was a dressage competition, a showjumping arena, or a busy riding club, the atmosphere would send him into a state of high alert. By simulating cheering and movement in training and marking them rewarding every calm effort, we transformed his confidence. Not only did he return to competition, but his dressage scores improved, and his rider found she could ride more boldly in every situation, making better decisions and riding less defensively.

Another client was struggling with their horse rushing fences at home. We broke it down: Can you approach the pole at walk and think about it? Mark and reward. Can you approach at trot and stay in rhythm? Mark and reward. Can you pop over and land in balance? Mark and reward. By acknowledging each small try rather than drilling endless jump schools, the horse's confidence grew and the rushing disappeared.

That's the ripple effect of acknowledging the try: it spreads into every aspect of partnership.

This applies whether you're preparing for Badminton, your first dressage test, a happy hack through the countryside, or simply wanting a calm, confident partner for everyday riding. The principles are the same: break it down, acknowledge the try, mark the right answer, reward the effort, and watch your horse become a willing partner who actively wants to learn.

So how do you know when to stop and when to push for more?

Ask yourself these questions:

Is my horse trying?
If yes, acknowledge it. Even if it's not perfect, even if it's tiny—if they're trying, that deserves recognition.

Have I seen improvement from where we started?
If yes, that's enough. Being greedy and pushing for more often backfires.

Is my horse getting frustrated or shutting down?
If yes, you've already pushed past the sweet spot. Go back, make it easier, find where they can say yes, and end there.

Am I in Stage 1, 2, or 3 of our work?
The answer changes depending on where you are in the foundation building. If you're still working on emotional regulation, physical demands are premature. If you're building psychological understanding, acknowledge thinking even more than perfect execution.

Have I built up enough deposits in the emotional bank account to ask for a withdrawal?
If you need to push through something hard—a vet visit, a competition, a challenging lesson—have you earned that trust through consistent rewarding at home?

The horses who consistently show up in a relaxed, learning frame of mind and are motivated to put effort in to your conversation are the ones who've been acknowledged most consistently for their efforts whether they are emotional, psychological or physical. They've learned that trying feels good, that it's worth the effort, that their person will notice and acknowledge it.

That's the partnership we're all chasing—not compliance, not domination, not even just obedience. We want horses who offer, who think, who try. And the way we get there is beautifully simple: acknowledge the try, every single time.