The Purpose Behind Every Ride; Why do we ride! Avoid Mindless Riding Trips!
Oct 18, 2025
We ride because we need to. Not because it’s trendy, not because we want to show off on social media, and certainly not to stroke our own ego.
Before I even touch Kuzey’s bridle, I ask myself: Why am I riding today?
This isn’t a formality. It’s the foundation of everything.
What I have seen, and Why it does not work!
I’ve seen riders jump on horses like they’re boarding a train, no plan, no thought, just “let’s go.” They gallop straight into the woods without warming up. They ride late at night after work, ignoring feeding schedules, rest times, or how their horse is feeling. Some push their horses until they collapse. And when something goes wrong? They blame the horse. “He’s bad.” “He’s not right for me.”
No. The problem isn’t the horse. It’s the rider. It’s the lack of purpose. It’s the absence of care.
Riding without intention isn’t riding. It’s chaos. It’s self-indulgence disguised as passion.
For me, every ride has a mission. It’s not about speed, not about tricks, not about impressing anyone. It’s about connection. About responsibility. About honoring the fact that this horse, my partner, my friend, my lifeline, isn’t here to serve me. He’s here to walk beside me.
Why do I ride?
I ride to condition myself, not just physically, but mentally. To prepare for long distances, for endurance rides over 40 km. To build strength, balance, and focus. But I also ride to give Kuzey what he needs: exercise, mental stimulation, routine. I don’t ride for me alone. I ride for both of us.
And that means I’m constantly checking in.
While I’m on his back, I feel his breathing. I watch his gait. I notice if one leg is stiff, if his ears are pinned, if he’s tensing up. Sometimes, mid-ride, I’ll pull him to a stop. Get down. Walk him back to the farm, 3, 6 km if needed, just to check his hooves, his legs, his overall condition. I’ve done it more than once. And yes, sometimes the vet shows up with an emergency kit, only to say, “Everything’s fine. He’s okay.”
But I didn’t know that. And I couldn’t take the risk.
We Ride Because We Need To
That’s the difference between a rider and a guardian. Between someone who uses a horse and someone who protects him.
Selfish people shouldn’t ride. I’ve seen them. Riders who think the saddle is a throne. Who kick, pull, punish, and then wonder why their horse won’t listen. Why he’s afraid. Why he’s broken.
I can’t be that person. Not after what Kuzey did for me. Not after he pulled me out of darkness when I had nothing left.
So I plan. I map. I schedule. My riding routine is planned 3–4 months in advance. One day for groundwork, grooming, lunging, walking. Another for light riding, walking, trotting. And one day, every 8–10 days, for a long ride over 20 km, including trotting, cantering, galloping.
It’s not just about time. It’s about balance. For me. For him.
And when I ask myself, “Is my horse ready for this ride?”, that’s the most important question of all.
Because riding isn’t about dominance. It’s about partnership. It’s about listening. It’s about leading with purpose.
When you remove your ego from the equation, something powerful happens. Your horse starts teaching you. Not just about riding, but about yourself. About patience. About humility. About presence.
You start to see things you never noticed before, the way his ears flick when he’s happy, the softness in his eyes when he trusts you, the quiet rhythm of his breath syncing with yours.
That’s the real magic.
And that’s why I wrote The Promise.
Not for fame. Not for money. But because I needed to share what I’ve learned, from pain, from failure, from watching others hurt horses they claimed to love.
In The Promise, I talk about:
- Why you should never ride without a clear goal
- How to spot a rider who doesn’t truly care
- The dangers of “ego-riding” and how it harms both horse and human
- What it really means to ride with purpose
- How to build a sustainable, respectful relationship with your horse
This book isn’t about technique. It’s about truth. About integrity. About responsibility.
If you’re serious about horses, if you want to ride not just to escape, but to grow, you need to read it.
Because the best rides aren’t the fastest. They’re the ones where you come back changed. Where you feel grounded. Where you know you did it right, not for yourself, but for the horse.
So next time you saddle up, don’t just climb on. Pause. Ask yourself:
Why am I riding today? Is my horse ready? Am I riding for me, or for us?
Because when you do, you’re not just a rider.
You’re a guardian.
And that’s the promise I made.
Now, it’s yours to keep.