Why I Practice Counting Strides Between Fences at Home
When I first started eventing with Archie, I thought counting strides was mostly something to do in the show ring when a coach called out a number. It seemed like a useful bit of information, but not necessarily a skill that needed its own place in our weekly schooling.
That changed after a few competitions where the distances felt different from what I had expected. A related distance could ride comfortably in one arena and feel surprisingly short or long at another venue. The fences might look familiar, yet the ground, the slope, the approach, or Archie’s energy could alter everything between them.
Now I regularly practise measuring the canter between fences at home. I count the horse’s strides, judge the quality of the rhythm, and compare what I expected with what actually happened. This work has improved my planning, my reactions, and my ability to support Archie without interfering with his jump.
Counting Is Really About Rhythm
The number itself is only part of the exercise. When I count from one fence to the next, I am listening for a regular three-beat canter and feeling whether Archie is maintaining the same balance throughout the line. A distance of five strides is useful information, but five uneven strides do not create the same result as five balanced ones.
At home, I usually begin with poles on the ground rather than upright fences. This lowers the pressure and allows me to concentrate on the canter. I count “one, two, three” with each stride, keeping my eyes up instead of staring at the poles. If Archie rushes, shortens, or loses his balance, the count reveals the change quickly.
This helps me avoid chasing a number. If I decide that a line must be six strides, I can be tempted to push for six even when Archie needs a steadier approach. The real goal is a confident, adjustable canter that allows us to arrive at each fence with enough time and balance to jump well.
Learning How Distance Feels
Every horse has a slightly different natural stride length, and the same horse can cover the ground differently depending on fitness, excitement, terrain, and the type of work being done. Archie’s canter feels open and powerful when he is fresh, but he can become more compact when he is concentrating or tired.
Practising at home gives me a chance to notice these changes without the distractions of a competition. I can ride a line in a normal working canter, then repeat it with a more forward canter and compare the result. I can also practise collecting the canter without losing impulsion, which is essential when a course asks for adjustments between fences.
I am not trying to make Archie fit every distance in exactly the same way. Instead, I am developing an internal reference for what a stride feels like. I want to recognise the difference between a balanced forward stride, a hurried stride, and a short stride that has lost energy. That awareness is much more valuable than memorising a fixed number.
Building A Reliable Home Exercise
My simplest setup uses two poles or small fences arranged in a straight line. I measure the distance carefully at first, then ride through without changing anything. Once Archie is comfortable, I may add a third element, introduce a related distance on a curve, or change the height slightly.
The order matters. I want the canter established before I ask Archie to think about the poles. I ride several circles, transitions, and changes of rein, then approach the exercise in a calm, forward rhythm. If the approach becomes tense, I go back to the basics rather than repeatedly riding a poor line.
I count aloud when I am schooling alone because it keeps me from holding my breath or becoming distracted. Occasionally I ask someone on the ground to count as well. Comparing our counts can show me whether I am missing a stride, rushing the count, or allowing Archie to drift away from the line.
| Exercise | What I Practise | What I Watch For |
|---|---|---|
| Two ground poles | Rhythm and straightness | Even steps and a relaxed back |
| Small vertical to pole | Maintaining the canter after a jump | No rushing or falling onto the forehand |
| Two fences in a related distance | Adjustability | A consistent approach to both elements |
| Curved line of poles | Balance and steering | The horse staying connected through the turn |
| Longer line with a small fence | Forward planning | Rhythm remaining steady as the distance opens |
The distances do not need to resemble a competition course exactly. Their purpose is to give me a setting in which I can observe how the canter changes. I may ride a familiar distance in six strides one day and seven the next, then consider why. Was Archie less forward? Did I ride a deeper turn? Did I hesitate before the first pole?
Using Stride Counting In Course Planning
When I walk a cross-country or show-jumping course, I use stride counting to create a plan rather than to predict every step with complete certainty. I look at the distance, the terrain, the shape of the line, and the questions asked by the fences. Then I estimate how the line is likely to ride in the canter Archie will have on the day.
A related distance on level ground may feel straightforward, while the same number of strides on an incline can require a different approach. A downhill line may encourage the horse to lengthen and lose balance. An uphill line can shorten the stride and demand more leg from the rider. A turn, a ditch, a water complex, or a visually imposing fence can also change the quality of the canter before the distance even begins.
This is why I count the strides at home in several rhythms. I practise a normal canter, a more forward eventing canter, and a collected canter that still has energy. I am learning how many steps the distance might take, but I am also learning which adjustments are realistic and which would make Archie uncomfortable.
The practice helps me choose useful reference points on course. I might decide to balance before a turn, establish the forward canter after a fence, or use a particular tree or marker to remind myself not to wait. These small decisions make the plan practical instead of leaving me to react only when the next fence is already in front of us.
Staying Flexible When The Distance Changes
A horse does not read the measuring tape. Even when I have walked a line carefully, Archie may meet the first fence from a slightly different place. The correct response is not always to force the original number of strides. Sometimes the safest and smoothest choice is to allow an extra step, while another situation calls for a more forward ride.
At home, I practise both possibilities in a controlled way. With a qualified coach present where possible, I might ride a line that comfortably fits six strides, then deliberately create a slightly shorter approach and allow seven. On another repetition, I establish a more forward canter and let the distance open. The exercise teaches me that an adjustment begins before the first fence, not halfway through the line.
I also work on recognising when Archie is telling me something. If he lands unbalanced, rushes toward the second element, or changes his rhythm, I treat that as useful feedback. I do not want to correct every mistake with a stronger aid. Often the better solution is to improve the approach, keep my upper body quiet, and maintain a clearer connection.
That flexibility matters in eventing because the ground is rarely identical from one venue to the next. Grass can be holding, slippery, or uneven. Arena footing can feel deep or springy. Weather can affect visibility and energy. A rider who understands the feel of the canter can adapt without abandoning the overall plan.
Improving My Position And Aids
Stride work has shown me that my position can influence the line more than I realised. If I lean too far forward before a fence, Archie may hurry. If I sit heavily at the wrong moment, I may shorten the canter without meaning to. If I take my eyes away from the next fence, my steering can become vague and the distance can disappear.
Counting gives me a simple focus while I practise staying centred. I keep my eyes beyond the next obstacle, close my leg around the turn, and allow my hands to follow the movement. The count continues in the background, helping me identify whether my aids are producing the response I intended.
Transitions are especially helpful. I may ride canter to trot, trot to canter, or a few more collected strides followed by a forward canter before approaching the poles. These changes teach Archie to respond promptly while keeping his back relaxed. They also teach me to make an adjustment early and then leave him alone to complete the line.
When I lose the rhythm, I try to diagnose the cause rather than blame the distance. Perhaps I entered too quickly, failed to support the outside shoulder, or became focused on the fence instead of the canter. This kind of honest review is one reason home schooling is so valuable.
Making The Practice Safe And Useful
The exercise should match the horse’s experience and the rider’s level of control. I keep the fences small when introducing a new distance and make sure the arena footing is suitable. I also check that the poles, wings, and filler are secure and visible. There is no benefit in creating a complicated exercise that makes either of us anxious.
I prefer short, purposeful repetitions to drilling the same line until Archie becomes tired or frustrated. A few good attempts can provide plenty of information. I then change the rein, stretch him, or move on to flatwork. Stride counting is part of our training, not the whole session.
- Establish a relaxed, forward canter before approaching the poles.
- Count the rhythm rather than staring at the obstacle.
- Practise different canter lengths without sacrificing balance.
- Change one factor at a time, such as the distance, turn, or fence height.
- Stop after a calm, confident repetition and record what you learned.
Video is another useful tool. A short clip can reveal that the canter looked more hurried than it felt, or that Archie was drifting through the line. I sometimes write down the distance, the number of strides, and how the approach felt. Over time, these notes create a record of patterns that are easy to miss in the moment.
Carrying The Skill Into Competition
At a competition, I do not want to count every stride obsessively. My attention needs to stay on the course, the rhythm, the terrain, and Archie’s confidence. The home practice gives me a framework, so I can use a few quiet counts when they help and stop counting when feel and instinct provide better information.
In show jumping, I may use the number of strides to prepare for a related distance or decide whether to hold a rhythm after a wide oxer. In cross-country, I am more concerned with maintaining the right pace and balance for the question ahead. The counted distance is a guide, while the quality of the canter remains the priority.
Dressage benefits from the same work because adjustability between fences begins with a horse that responds to the leg and seat. A balanced canter, accurate transitions, and a rider who can influence the stride without tension all contribute to better flatwork. The skills overlap more than I once appreciated.
For Archie and me, counting strides has become a quiet form of preparation. It helps me understand what I am feeling, plan with greater clarity, and notice when I am asking for too much or too little. The purpose is not to make every line predictable. It is to give us enough communication and balance to handle the parts that are not predictable.
Next time you school over poles or small fences, set aside a few minutes to listen to the rhythm between them. Count softly, observe the canter, and make a note of what changes when you adjust your pace. That simple habit can turn an ordinary home exercise into practical preparation for the next course, the next venue, and the next ride with your horse.