Post by Dante on Nov 30, 2011 15:45:34 GMT -5
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RUNAWAY ONELEG
workout with
MOSES LANCASTER[/b]
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Was it possible for Runaway Oneleg to break her maiden by the end of the year? No one had high hopes, but then again, people hadn't had high hopes for the Hebrews, and Moses had fixed that, right? So why couldn't this Moses work a miracle? He knew Solo was capable enough for it. It was just narrowing it down. So he'd been injured, and so her season might have gotten messed up, but they could go out with a bang, and start the new one on high hopes, right? It was the pursuit of a dream that brought people and equines alike to the track - they were no different.
He looked out at the turf track before them, from atop the bay filly, searching it for clues. Nine furlongs. An easy distance. The clouds swirled above them, and the winter sun was pale. Solo snorted softly, eager to go, but not about to pull and tug and be a fool about it.
"Ready bro?" Tobias called up. Normally, Connor or Skylark would be doing the job his undersized big brother was doing, but Skylark had been taken down by phantom pain, and Connor was severely inebriated after being again rejected by Erin, so they'd called in their top jockey. "We've only got a certain amount of time, let's get a-goin'." There was a bag of M&M's in his hand, and Moses raised a brow.
"How long is that gonna stay down?" He asked his brother, only to be flipped the bird and pointed to the gate. He trotted Solo there, enjoying the gentle, smooth trot the filly had. She had the confirmation for the job, that was for sure. Even if she didn't make it big, she might produce a few good ones. "But motherhood isn't on the plans for two more years, at least." He assured the filly with a pat on the neck.
Loading into the gate was the same old thing - no problem at all. Solo was the coldblood of hotbloods. Some might say that would put her at a heavy disadvantage, but Moses had to disagree. Colts were gelded to garner at least part of the advantage Solo had by nature. No distractions, one focus, easy maneuverability. Just because she didn't bite everyone she saw, she was a bad racer? Hardly.
With that thought, the gates sprung open, and they were off to the races once more. A good start on the gate set them off, and they began to fly. Not literally, of course, but for a horse with only "one leg" she sure could go fast. They'd surprised the world with a second, now the underdog was going for a first. She knew it, too. She felt it coming, and anticipated a good day at the track. She wanted it too, and they’d polish. They’d keep polishing and polishing until she shone.
He could feel her muscles ripping underneath him, and hear the wind as they ran, tearing up the turf behind them. Her mane and tail streamed out behind her, her head bobbing as she went. They kept far from the rail, for a few reasons. One of the main ones was her closing style – the other was that it was going to be a big field, so if as very possible their gate would be on the outside. She needed to get used to running slightly further than the “advertised distance” of nine furlongs, if you added on the distance of the outside. Still, this “real distance” was very much within Solo’s abilities.
They took the curve with grace and speed, without a worry. Once they hit six furlongs, Moses let her have her head and the stick. It was time to clean up the field. They raced after horse after horse – Moses could picture them, in full color, before Runaway Oneleg. They raced past an imaginary Ford Model T, then Lady Ophelia. An imaginary Erin glanced over from atop the cremello filly as they passed. Then, Devil’s Crusade, frothing and foaming at the mouth, fell to Solo’s speed. As they entered the last stretch, only one horse stood in the way, an amazingly fast dapple grey, and his brother, imagined, atop him. They kept pushing, and Moses grew fevered, and then-
They passed the ninth furlong, and the PHS horses all melted away, save for Runaway Oneleg, who galloped on beneath him. He brought her back down from her breakneck pace, and looped her back to Tobias, whishing he knew what happened in his “daydream”.
“Not bad.” Tobias told them. “Not bad. Though you look dazed, brother…” Tobias raised an eyebrow and popped another M&M into his mouth. “
“It’s nothing.” Moses dismissed it quickly. Too quickly, because Tobias snorted.
“It’s Erin, isn’t it?” He laughed, as he wrote down the time and signed his name. “I bet it’s Eriiiiiiiiiin, but you’re too young for her.”
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WORKOUT STATS
words| 818
workout surface| Turf
distance| 9 furlongs
horse| Runaway Oneleg
jockey| Moses Lancaster
type| closed workout (do not reply)
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