Post by Dante on Jun 1, 2012 15:32:48 GMT -5
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LADY OPHELIA
workout with
ERIN TRUBELL
for the
WINTER CUP GRADE FIVE DIRT[/b]
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"Don't come any closer." Erin warned some groom from another stable, as she sat atop the prancing filly. While Ophelia was calming out with the approach of winter, she was still a bit of a nutcase. No, scratch that, a major nutcase. It was blindingly early in the morning, only five am, and Erin couldn't see Connor anywhere. He was probably hung over. She sighed, and dismounted again. She'd have to do this herself. She tied Ophelia to a post, and praying the large cremello horse wouldn't run away with the post, bolted down to the jockey clubhouse, picked the lock with a bobby pin, and stole a stopwatch, a pen, and a post-it note. It wasn't like she wasn't allowed to borrow it, anyways, the things in the clubhouse were meant for the jockeys. She'd just return them later on.
Darting back out through the winter air, Erin breathed a sigh of relief when she found Ophelia still waiting for her. "Okay, girl, we're on our own, and if you run away from me, I swear to God almighty I will make you into a stick of glue and make crafts with you, and hang them on my window." The threat seemed to work, or at least Erin's tone of voice did. She stowed the pen and post-it in her bra, and mounted with the stopwatch in hand. A quick search unearthed the groom again, who agreed to trigger the gates quickly.
Amazingly, Lady Ophelia loaded well, and Erin readied herself, hands on the reins, one with the stick as well, and the other with the stopwatch. Connor would hear about this! She'd have to press down on the stopwatch and set it off the second the gates opened, then hold onto it while dealing with the filly. She didn't have time to think about it, though, as the gates sprung open and Ophelia broke fast. It was weird to juggle another thing in her hands (never mind the feeling of the pen and post it where pens and post-its didn't belong) but Erin ignore it and focused on her run. Ten furlongs on the dirt track. Ten furlongs for the Winter Cup. Competition would be very stiff, with Ophelia's less than perfect season, but Erin had good feelings for the filly all the same. Her temper was evening out, and Erin had a feeling that while Winter mean the waning of many career, it would mark a beginning for Ophelia, who she felt would run better as an older racer.
The motions of the filly were in-balanced and while not strung out, were longer than most horses. Her ears went forwards, and Erin kept her on the outside a little, ahead and away from the others, so she wouldn't get tangled in a fight with them. With less dexterity in her hands than she would have liked, the redhead was forced to trust the insane filly. The thing was, Erin was finding herself surprised. Ophelia struggled and head to be steadied from time to time to avoid burning out, but it seemed that when Erin, though no other choice, softened up, so did she. It was surprising, and it was a good thing. It might be late in the year, but it wasn't impossible to do this!
Taking the curve was a bit harder, but thanks to the size of both horse and rider, they were able to navigate it. Hooves threw up dirt and coated Ophelia's legs, and even tossed up a little at Erin. She could almost feel the ticking of the stopwatch in her left hand, but foremost, she could feel the power in the legs, chest and haunches of the horse below her. The horse that needed some trust, it seemed, to get just that little bit further.
Upon hitting the sixth furlong, Erin placed even more trust in a horse she typically wouldn't trust at all. She let Ophelia have her head, save for enough to steer her, and the stick. Ophelia needed a bit of time to accelerate, hence the early move to widen the gap. She might have been a frontrunner that broke fast, but that initial burst only put her ahead or near the front. This last push would keep the gap between her and the field, in theory.
The duo crossed the ten furlong marker, and Erin pressed down on the stopwatch again. They ran like a runaway train for a little further, as Erin regained her hold and slowed her down without dropping the stopwatch, stick, or clean off the horse's back herself! Once she came to a halt, she chanced a glance at the stopwatch and smiled, hoping it was accurate. She reached down her shirt and pulled out the pen and post it, scrawling down the time while still managing a hand on the reins. "To the stable, and then to the track!" She declared, grinning at the sunrise. Ophelia whinnied, and took off.
"Not quite!" Erin shouted, nearly dropping everything again. At least the on the track version had been good, Erin noted, as they went galloping through the stableyard.-----------------------
WORKOUT STATS
words| 850
workout surface| Dirt
distance| 10 furlongs
horse| Lady Ophelia
jockey| Erin Trubell
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