When I tell other riders I’m para, they tend to worry I’m more likely to fall off, have an accident, or be less successful when it comes to the show ring.

But those aren’t the concerns at the top my mind. My horse Daisy gives me the chance to experience freedom on a completely new level, and with the help of my motto #FindAWayNotAnExcuse, we’ve accomplished some incredible wins in both para and able bodied show jumping.

So what is it actually like to be a para rider compared to an able bodied rider? I thought I’d set the record straight.

But first, a bit of background.

I have a tethered spinal cord.

It’s what makes me a para rider. A tethered spinal cord is basically a fatty tumour wrapped around the nerves to my legs, bladder and bowel. Due to this, I struggle to walk and need hours of physiotherapy each day. I sleep in night splints and can’t feel my legs from below the knee…it’s not abnormal for my legs to be a cool shade of blue from the numbness!

Photo courtesy of Evie Toombs.

You probably wouldn’t imagine someone like me near a horse, but it’ll take more than a disability to stop me from riding. I get a huge sense of freedom in the saddle.

Balancing at the rising trot is a struggle. So is walking, sometimes.

I can’t feel my legs from below my knees and tend to feel really disconnected to my feet and lower legs. The best way I can explain my balance is to imagine you’re walking on stilts that begin at your knees.

There are days when walking in a straight line can be a challenge and I lurch like a drunk toddler from the tack room to my stable trying not to trip over the bridle I’m carrying…and that’s before I’ve even tacked up!

It takes me a while to find balance in my stirrups during each ride. Rising trot is definitely my biggest struggle balance wise and takes a while to ease into. I’ve got to make sure my right and left legs move in sequence with each other, which can be really hard when one leg get tired faster than the other. Keeping to a rhythm and aiming for good, short sessions really helps though.

I struggle with my stamina.

I can’t always manage a full session of training or day at a show without a quick 20-minute nap, usually followed with a whole day of sleeping soon after.

Power nap. Photo courtesy of Evie Toombs

At times, it can be more pronounced than others. I’ll be half way through warming up for a class and will have to stop as I’m too exhausted.

This can be really frustrating when I’ve made it to the show, Daisy is ready and tacked up, and I’ve not even finished warming up before I feel drained and a little bit dizzy. (Dizzy is definitely not a good combination for being on a horse, so we have to be careful I don’t get too exhausted). I’m tube fed and perhaps a bit weaker than your average rider or athlete so this tends to mean I struggle with my stamina more too.

What I lack in stamina is made up for in competitive spirit though. By the time I’m at a show, there’s no chance I’m willing to go back home without pushing through it as much as I can. 

I’m not always strong enough to give the right aids.

There are times it can be harder to communicate with Daisy. I’m not always strong enough to give her the right aids and if she gets carried away or spooks, it makes my job even harder. Often, I’ll use my legs and not get a response because my squeeze or kick isn’t strong enough, even though I’m trying as hard as I can.

I use a lot of voice aids such as ‘clicking’ to encourage Daisy and ‘woah’ to help slow her, this really helps to communicate and makes a big difference. Even though it can be a huge struggle, training and knowing my strengths and weaknesses helps hugely—the more I practice, the more I know what works and what really doesn’t!

Practice is also great for getting to know my horse, and for her to get to know me. After all, we are a team and being a partnership is a two way street.

I don’t actually fall off very often.

Crash, Bang, Wallop! This is most likely something you’d presume is fairly common with a para rider, to be slipping and sliding everywhere. But it’s really not the case. I know many incredible para riders that are extremely capable.

Photo courtesy of Evie Toombs.

In the two and a half years I’ve had Daisy, I’ve only fallen off once. Inevitably, I do still come off on occasion and it can be more dangerous since I already have underlying health issues, so we try not to take many risks when riding. I already spend a large amount of time in hospital without any equestrian accidents!

The hardest thing?

Most disabilities can worsen or ease depending on your health in general. Mine changes from each day to the next with how severe my leg weakness is and how tired I am. Some days, I’ll barely be able to walk and riding is a definite no. But it’s hard to know quite how my legs are until I actually get on Daisy—when I do it often feels like riding in a different body each day, not knowing what works or how it works.

Emotionally, it takes a while to adjust when something you found so easy last week is now impossible this week. But as long as I’m with Daisy, enjoying some freedom and an escape, then that’s good enough for me. 

Truth is, there’s no easy way or magic fix that makes riding easier when you’re a para rider. It’s about finding what works for you, forming a relationship with your horse, and, most importantly, focusing on the strengths you have whilst improving areas that bring up your weaknesses. But most of all, keeping everything fun for both you and your horse. 

Perhaps this is just as important for any rider, able bodied or para. It never hurts to remember why you first fell in love with horses, and it might just be the same reason you continue to. 


Evie Toombes was born with Lipomyelomeningocele, a form of spina bifida caused by a fatty mass at the base of her spinal cord affecting the nerves to her legs, bladder, and bowel. For the past 18 years, she’s been confusing doctors and pursuing her para-riding dreams, inspiring millions in the process. Follow Evie on Facebook and at her website, EvieToombesParaRider.com.