Ed Bethell talks to Vicki Gibbins

Ed Bethell talks to Vicki Gibbins about his training career

Horse Racing

Wed August 12, 2026 · 14h ago

“Did you know that if you Google Ed Bethell, the first question that comes up is about how tall you are?” I ask.

Ed is momentarily taken aback by this line of questioning but recovers admirably.

“I’m six foot five. I try and make myself look a bit smaller for the TV, but it doesn’t really work.”

The stage is set for a morning at Thorngill Stables, home of Ed Bethell, one of the UK’s tallest racehorse trainers - maybe.

Driving through the gates into Tupgill Park, there’s a decision to make. Turn left, for legendary local attraction ‘The Forbidden Corner’ (described as the ‘strangest place in the UK’) or right, for Thorngill Stables, where I’m hoping for a less ghoulish welcome.

First lot commences with a visit to the newly-painted outdoor school, etched into the side of the hill below the yard and surrounded by trees, offering tantalising views of the Coverdale hills through gaps in the foliage.

“We’ve not used this since it has been painted, so there could be all sorts of antics,” says Ed as the first horses makes their way onto the gallop, hooves dancing across the fresh surface.

“Do not knock down my new white rails, please,” he admonishes a filly as her hind end swings perilously close to the perimeter, before greeting each individual rider by name. It’s a better reception than I jokingly received (‘I’m not sure about journalists’) but I’m quickly realising that Ed Bethell is warm, forthright and funny – everything a Yorkshire racehorse trainer should be.

We drive slowly onto Low Moor, letting out Ed’s adored whippet for a run (and subsequently nearly running her over), bouncing across sun-kissed moorland in search of the string. At the highest point of the moor, we get out and wait, silently taking in the enormity of the landscape.

“Horses are the only reason I do it,” he explains, as the horses hove into view. “It’s a lovely way of life, but I do it for the horses rather than anything else.

“I take a lot of pride in my horses. Walking around the yard at six o’clock in the morning when there’s no one else around, it’s the best time of the day. Only me and the horses - that’s all this has ever been about.”

Ed took over Thorngill Stables from father James in 2021, transitioning from one Bethell name to another. I remember meeting James as a racing-struck teenager desperate to make their way into the industry and found nothing but kind words and encouragement. Those were the days of Mine, Royal Ascot glory and too many Bunbury Cups to count.

Mine winning the Bunbury Cup under Mick Kinane

“It was always my dad’s decision to stop and he wanted to retire,” explains Ed, as we chat about taking over the license. “Dad was very unselfish in what he did – I would have gone on a joint license – but he felt it was a young man’s game. He’s still very much part of everything.

“We’ve been lucky, we’ve got some really nice horses and are having a wonderful time. Dad was an exceptional racehorse trainer but he never got the horses.”

I beam at the insight, and Ed laughs at my reaction.

“Happy?

“I always wanted to train,” he continues. “I wanted to be a jockey when I was younger, as all young kids do want to be a sportsperson. I worked out fairly pronto that I was going to be too big and then broke my neck playing rugby, aged sixteen, so I couldn’t even go down the amateur route.

“There’s nothing better than watching a horse progress and fulfil it’s potential to some degree. But I’ll never get used to the bad news.

“I’m quite an emotive bloke, I’m passionate and when I do get bad news, it takes a few days for me to process – I question it, why has that happened and what has it happened for? Nine times out of ten, these things happen because they just happen and there’s no way of stopping it. Questioning it will always be in my makeup.”

Every racehorse trainer needs that one good horse to put them on the map, and the good luck to go with it. For Ed, it’s Regional – Group 1 sprinting stalwart and winner of nearly one million pounds.

“Hang him in the Louvre,” he says, without hesitation. “Regional is the reason we’re here and the number of horses that we do. He is a wonderful racehorse with a will to win and horses like him sadly do not go on forever. I’d like to think Regional will live out the rest of his days in my front paddock. I’ll look after him, because he’s looked after me.”

Regional battles to victory in the Betfair Sprint Cup

He pauses.

“But I would look after every horse, even if they don’t look after me.”

It’s easy to believe, as you walk round the yard. The main stable block, built with creamy Yorkshire stone, could be lifted straight from the pages of a James Herriot with happy, inquisitive faces peering over the half stable doors.

“I train four horses from a field, because it suits them,” he explains. “Respiratory issues, ulcers and one is a bit of a monkey – we’re fortunate to have the ability to turnout and they thrive on it. This is about the horses, that’s why we’re here.”

Armed with a cup of tea, we sit down in Ed’s office on a trio of comfy sofas in front of the fireplace.

“We’ve covered everything, haven’t we?” he asks hopefully.

Good try. Ed forms part of the younger generation of trainers rising through the ranks, bring new blood and ideas to the sport, so I’m interesting to hear his wider take on racing.

“It’s obvious to say prize money, but prize money is an issue,” he muses. “And treating owners well. There are some racetracks that do a good job, and some racetracks that don’t do a good job. It makes a difference for the owners. Even small improvements, like the food. I don’t want the owners to feel like they’ve gone to a school canteen.

“Our journalists are selling dross,” Ed says, with feeling. “It’s negative and we’re taking away from all the wonderful things about the sport. Why not promote the incredible racehorses? Or the jockeys, who must be some of the most resilient and tough sportspeople that you could come across? Working with horses is a phenomenal thing and it can change your life.

“Let’s shine a light on the good things.”

Go on then, let’s.