Post by S u N f r O s t ~ on Jul 15, 2011 15:51:38 GMT -5
looks into the minds and workouts of SOPS staff.
UNLIMITED POTENTIAL ~
Limited Bluez and Amber Black
Now four years old, the beautiful chestnut stallion had matured beautifully into himself. He pranced excitedly under Amber as she mounted up and steered him towards the track. Somehow, impossibly, Amber thought, she had gotten him to grade three. He was one win away from grade two, and perfectly capable, she thought, of achieving grade one by the end of the year. All he needed was the extra push. He had run with some of the best, and he was on the top of his game. He was truly ready to show the world his talent. He hadn't won any huge races in his career, mainly small ones, but he had been named Best 2yo Colt of year eight for a reason.
He had potential.
Blue snorted excitedly and pulled against the reins as Amber trotted him onto the dirt track. Amber let him out into a canter, and then a gallop. The workout had no rhyme or reason; she lets her thoughts flow to the familiar beat of Blue's gallop. The stallion rapidly accelerated into a fast pace, and began to run for the sheer joy of stretching his legs. He seemed to sense that his rider was barely paying attention and was taking full advantage of her absent-mindedness. Amber smiled as his mane blew back in her face, but her thoughts wandered back over Blue's years.
The colt had always been a champion in her heart. He had captured the hearts of the staff, but had been given to her for fairness's sake. He had always run in smaller races after his performance in big ones during his two year old season. But all of that was changing. Amber could feel the stallion who had recently been a colt charging up, and he started to run faster than he ever had. Amber smiled, briefly enjoying the new speed, before pulling the colt up. She didn't want to tire him out for his future races. But she had been thrilled by this new speed. This year, she thought, we'll blow them all away.
SET THE TRACK ALIGHT ~
Dashing In The Firelight and Henna Turath
Injuries sidelined every accomplished athlete, especially when the athlete needed it the least.
Henna led the beautiful light bay four year old out of the barn, enjoying being in the daring filly's presence. Fire was a filly of a different kind; she liked to run, seeing it as a challenge, but it wasn't that that made her stand out. What made her so dear to Henna's heart was how the filly was overcoming the injury that had sidelined her entire three year old season. Now four, Fire had been given another season to prove herself, and Henna knew that she would. The mare had only two wins in fifteen races, a record worse than some of the new three year olds, but Henna knew Fire inside and out. She had been working hard to bring the mare back.
Now, Fire stood with muscles gleaming, and her beauty attracted a few eyes. Henna smirked and mounted up on her mare, enjoying the attention Fire was receiving. Naturally few would know Fire, but that didn't matter to Henna, because they would this year. There was no way that the mare's talent could remain a secret for long. She was just too good. Henna asked the mare for a trot, and then a canter. As they warmed up, Henna prepped herself for year ten. Fire was an unknown threat; she was probably near the bottom of the rankings in her age group, due to that blasted injury. All they needed was a quick sprint to attract some eyes, and Fire would be on her way to stardom with respect trailing in her wake.
Slowly, slowly, like a creeping hunter, Henna eased Fire into a gallop, and then a sprint. The mare listened closely, knowing that the better she listened the sooner she would run. She entered the sprint happily. Though she was a distance runner, she still loved stretching her legs like this. Her light bay body blurred as she shot forward, accelerating quickly, rapidly. Henna knew that they had to be attracting some eyes now, because she knew Fire was brilliantly fast. Flashing under the fire like a light flame, Henna knew that she had achieved her goal. Fire was ready to set the track alight.
READY TO RUN ~
Whip Up The Dancing & Krystal Yhate
The turf was beautiful today. Unmarred by other horses' hooves at four in the morning, it was just waiting for the touch of a king. Krystal grinned and trotted Prancer out, sitting easily to the bay stallion's gait. At four, he had grown into himself, though he hadn't lost his ridiculously dominant personality yet. He and Blue were still at each other's throats. But some things never change thought Krystal, and her smile grew wider. Prancer was getting ready to have a kick-butt four year old season. Krystal had been waiting for this moment for years; the chance to showcase her stallion's talent. And now it was upon them, the era of eras, the time of times. Prancer was nearing his senior years of racing. He had to be ready.
She cued the colt for a canter, to which he responded willingly to before throwing his head back up and attempting to break free. Krystal grinned and got ready to grant the stallion his wish. She had heard of what Henna had done with Blue the other day, and was going to copy it. She was going to get Prancer some attention before his first start of the year. And how better than to sprint and prance? No competition for him today; that type of training came later.
When they reached the half mile pole, Krystal hummed and dropped into a crouch, releasing the stallion from the stranglehold she had on him. Prancer leaped forward excitedly, his muscles extending and contracting as he hurtled forward. He went from slow to very very fast in a matter of seconds and just kept on going. Krystal almost lost herself in the speed, and instead maintained the presence of mind to close her eyes and enjoy the wind on her face. No doubts existed in her mind concerning Prancer's potential. The stallion was ready to run.
