A personal blog about eventing, horses & life in the middle of it all

Core strength and staying centred over fences

Core strength is often discussed as though the answer to a wobbly jump is a tougher six-pack. The role of core strength in staying centred over fences is more subtle than that. It is the quiet trunk control that lets a rider absorb motion, stay organised through a turn and follow the horse without gripping, collapsing or fighting the tack. That control gives the hands a steadier base and the seat enough freedom to influence what happens next.

I notice this most at Australian horse trials, where the same rider can look smooth over a modest oxer and completely disassemble over a tiny bank. Dressage asks for alignment and a responsive seat, show jumping asks for precision under movement, and cross-country asks for trust at speed over uneven ground. A strong centre does not remove those demands; it helps the body meet each one without wasting energy on avoidable tension.

The setting can make the lesson sharper. At a typical trial, the horse comes off the float, the tack-up area fills with clips and chatter, and someone puts the kettle on before the chooks. Canberra’s frosty winter mornings can make firm ground demand a careful warm-up and sometimes horse boots, while Brisbane’s sticky summer changes how a horse moves before the first fence. Out west, dry country and hard footing reward a rider who can stay supple rather than brace for every bump.

Being centred over a fence does not mean sitting still or becoming a rigid plank. It means the pelvis, rib cage and spine can respond as one coordinated unit while remaining balanced with the horse. When that happens, the rider follows the movement instead of being dragged by it. The result should feel less like holding a pose and more like staying in conversation with horse, rider and gravity.

More than a six-pack

A useful core is not simply the visible muscles at the front of the abdomen. It is the whole cylinder of support between the pelvis and ribs: deep abdominals, spinal stabilisers, the diaphragm, hips and the muscles that control rotation. These structures keep the trunk from collapsing, twisting excessively or tipping as the horse accelerates, changes direction and lands.

That support should be strong without being permanently switched on. Bracing the abdomen, gripping the saddle and holding the breath all create a rigid block, not a capable centre. For riding, the rider needs to make small adjustments in both directions: tip the pelvis slightly for a turn, allow the ribs to soften on a descent, and return to neutral without snapping into place.

If the trunk lacks control, the body often compensates elsewhere. A rider might haul on the reins, pull at the mane, tip too far forward and then throw the hips back to save the landing. Another may grip with the knees and lose the independent seat. Persistent lower-back ache after lessons, or tension that shows up in the shoulders and jaw, can be signs that stability and mobility need attention.

How balance changes in the air

On takeoff, the horse’s centre of mass moves forward and up. A centred rider folds from the hip while allowing the pelvis to follow, rather than trying to remain upright against the horse’s momentum. “Upright” does not mean vertical; it means balanced in relation to the horse’s back and the direction of travel.

Approach and takeoff also require timing. If the rider collapses through the waist, the upper body arrives at the fence early and the hands may follow. If the rider stiffens and sits tall against the arc, the horse can meet a braced back and a late aid. Strong trunk control keeps both errors possible to correct without creating a bigger one.

The landing is where that control becomes useful. The pelvis should be allowed to travel with the horse while the hips, knees and ankles soften to absorb the downward force. There should be room to come back up, not a hard stop or a collapse. Over show jumps and solid fences alike, an elastic rider is easier to keep with; a jammed rider creates a rude conversation between saddle, horse and skeleton.

What the horse feels

The rider’s centre is only half the partnership. Horses use their own trunk, hindquarters and back to organise movement, and a horse that is physically committed to the fence needs freedom along the spine. A stable rider can follow that motion, leave the reins alone and stay available for a half-hint. A rigid rider can unintentionally block the very back that needs to swing under them.

This is where independent hands and independent legs are built. If the rider’s abdominals are bracing, the rein may become a way to hold the body in place. If the pelvis is unstable, the leg can arrive late and bluntly. Core work supports clearer aids because it reduces the need to create stability somewhere else, but it does not replace flatwork, schooling or good timing.

Looking back at my eventing beginning, I can see how quickly I mistook stiffness for control. I thought holding still meant being balanced. The reality was harder and more useful: a horse can move dramatically beneath a rider who stays organised, and a rider who stays organised can let the horse move. That distinction became one of the lessons I kept returning to on the cross-country course.

Building strength without losing softness

The safest place to develop postural control is off the horse, where load can be adjusted and movement can be practised without another animal’s momentum. Dead bugs, bird dogs, side planks, controlled hip hinges and carries can train the body to resist unwanted rotation and extension. The best programme is the one suited to the rider’s history, not the one with the most fashionable exercises on an Instagram reel.

On horseback, familiar work becomes a core exercise. Halt-to-halt transitions, half-hallows, changes of lead, walk-to-canter transitions and riding without stirrups can expose gaps, provided they are introduced appropriately. A coach or physiotherapist can help identify whether an exercise is building control or simply rehearsing the same compensation at a faster tempo.

Mobility matters just as much as brute strength. A rider may have a powerful trunk but still struggle to fold cleanly at the hip or separate the arms from the rib cage. The goal is not to become bendy in a party trick; it is to have enough usable range to follow the horse. Anyone with pain, a recent injury or a long-standing back problem should get individual advice before adding load.

Drills that borrow from real fences

Poles on the ground offer a gentle test because the horse can see the answer and the rider can work on quiet hands. Cantering a pole, landing and maintaining the canter, or adjusting the line without collapsing forward each shows whether the centre can organise a transition. The focus should not be how busy the rider looks, but whether the horse receives a clear aid without a tug.

Low gym-poles and small fences add the reality of elevation without immediately demanding a large effort. Working through a grid can reveal a rider who is strong going straight but loses organisation when the direction changes. Keep the fences low enough that the rider can practise an active lower leg and a pelvis that follows, then raise the challenge only when both horse and rider are ready.

Cross-country demands a different kind of response. On a bank or narrow jump, a rider may need to stay close to the saddle; before a drop, the body may come slightly forward and the seat lightly out of the saddle. None of those positions should be held rigidly. Many Australian courses use rail-and-cup fences, brush, logs and open gallops between combinations, rewarding a body that can change shape quickly and recover by the next element.

Nerves, breath and the body’s response

Fear can make an otherwise capable rider lose core control. Adrenaline speeds the heart, breathing becomes shallow, and the trunk tightens as if preparing for a bump. That is normal physiology, but it can turn a soft seat into a fixed one. A long, quiet exhale helps reduce the urge to brace; several comfortable breaths can make the difference before a test or a decisive phase.

A pre-round routine should pair visualisation with physical action. Walk the course slowly, check your tack, stand in both stirrups and let the shoulders drop. The aim is not to force calm before confidence arrives, but to give the nervous body a familiar sequence. Nerves and a weak core are not identical, yet both can leave the rider rigid.

Results can add another jolt. I used to check live trial results on my phone between phases, then try to ride the next test as if the previous number had not just landed. Watching the score climb or fall is part of Australian eventing life, but it is sensible to finish the day’s work before becoming a spectator to it. Reviewing the round later gives the body time to reset.

Make the centre part of the partnership

Progress is easiest to notice in small changes. The rider stops pulling the mane as the horse takes off, gives a half-hint without chasing the shoulders, or lands with enough freedom to recover the canter. These are signs of a centre that supports the horse rather than competing with it. They are also signs that strength is becoming usable under pressure.

A simple weekly plan can connect gym work with riding. Choose two or three trunk exercises, then test their purpose in a transition, a grid or a canter line. If the same compensation keeps appearing, change the exercise, the tempo or the coaching input. Consistent correction beats adding more abdominal work while repeating an unfamiliar movement badly.

There is no single ideal body for eventing. Tall riders, shorter riders, riders with limited ankle range and riders who arrive with strong backs all need different supports. The common thread is the ability to remain organised, responsive and kind to the horse. Core strength matters because it turns intention into movement that the horse can accept.

For me, the work is never finished. A centred ride feels quieter, and quiet is often the first sign that attention is with the horse rather than trapped in the rider’s body. Train the strength, practise the release, and let each fence become a chance to listen. Subscribe to Mania in the Middle for candid horse-trial stories and practical reflections, and share this article with a fellow rider working on balance.