Post by archibald on Jun 26, 2012 22:25:44 GMT -5
biohazard & the goodness ,
Jo rolled her shoulders a few times, feeling how tense the muscles across the top half of her back currently were. It wasn’t that surprising really, with the amount of riding she did every day, added to the pressure of everything else that was going on in her life. Not to mention the Breeder’s Cup was looming closer and closer, and that was a stressful enough time, although she tried her best to just focus on her riding, and the horses, since there wasn’t much else they could do besides cross their fingers and hope that the entries they did have in it placed decently.
She replaced her helmet as she walked over to where Arty was being held, clipping the safety device securely in place again before she reached him, letting the groom give her a leg up into the small racing saddle, glancing around quickly as she sorted herself out in search of her sister, Angie, and Ness, since they were meant to be working the two horses together. She wasn’t too far off, doing exactly the same thing with the bay filly, who was about as relaxed looking as Arty was right now. Both horses were prone to their high strung racehorse fits when the fancy struck them, but that usually tended to happen on race day more often than on a normal day.
And quite frankly it was nice to be able to ride a horse that didn’t mind having to work... riding Erin was hell, the young black mare didn’t want a bar of it ninety percent of the time, and they rarely got anywhere in her workouts. But Arty was responsive, he’d start off a little hyperactive but once he knew who was boss he tended to settle down and do as he was told, and Ness was pretty much the same way, she had found, on the few occasions she had ridden the other horse. Satisfied that her stirrups and reins were all in order, she nodded to the groom, who led the chestnut colt towards the gates leading out onto the track.
Once they were out there, she walked him out towards the inside rail, before nudging him into a trot when they reached it, not wasting any time in getting to their warm up. The sound of another horse coming up near them alerted her to the presence of her younger sister and Ness, who drew up beside them, leaving a reasonable gap between the two horses, although there was really no danger of them fighting with each other. Arty didn’t really take too much notice of the other horse besides glancing at her a little when they reached them, before turning his attention back to the track in front of him. Ness didn’t even bother looking.
“How do you think he’ll go?” she heard her sister call out across the gap to her. “Hopefully alright... he’s been a bit on and off lately, we’re not sure what’s wrong with him,” Jo answered. He’d had quite a few good runs... and then other days he’d just seemed to not really be too interested, or he hadn’t had it in him compared to the rest of the field he had been running against. He was still young though, and it would probably take a while before he completely settled into a consistent pattern, and they were being careful not to push him too much. He was a sprinter, after all, going so hard and fast all the time would hardly be good for him.
They talked a little more between them for a while, before falling silent as they both urged their horses into a canter once they had hit a certain point, and then a slow gallop once they had hit another. They were under strict instructions just to breeze them slowly today, they didn’t want them to burn themselves out before their races, after all, so they were keeping it short and sweet just to keep them conditioned. They kept them going for the distance they had been told to run for, slowing them both down once they had done so, although both Ness and Arty looked like they could have kept going for a lot longer, and were acting like they wanted to as well, but weren’t allowed to get away with attempting to speed up again.
“I think they’re ready,” she called out over to Angie once they started their cool down, reaching down to give the chestnut colt a pat on the neck. Hopefully she was right.
words: 760
status: closed.