Post by Dante on Jul 1, 2012 0:26:07 GMT -5
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C'EST IMPOSSIBLE
workout with
ERIN TRUBELL[/b]
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People had warned her C'est Impossible, otherwise known as Imp, was a diva. Honestly, Erin couldn't find any hint of a diva. The filly knew what she wanted and when she wanted it, and she would do all she could to get it, but Erin had fallen in love. "Who's a sweetie? Yes you. Awww, come here!" She cooed at the horse, placing a kiss on the bay's nose, to which Imp withdrew and looked mildly embarrassed before putting her snout back, thinking on second thought she liked this, and Erin did too. Skylark Fletcher was to her Imp's trainer - not Connor Kingsley, which meant it was less of a bother for the six foot tall redhead.
Furthermore, Imp had shown surprising aptitude in a prospect showing, and while it was just a prospect showing, the intelligent filly showed plenty of promise. "You're not impossible at all, noooooo." Erin cooed again, before hearing a chuckle and scowling at Skylark. "You heard and saw nothing."
"Of course I haven't. The mighty bad-girl Erin doesn't have a heart." Skylark sounded bemused, but Erin knew he wouldn't tell a soul what he saw. "Go on, get on her, and I'll give you the rundown." Erin, thanks to her size, was able to hop up from the ground, looking as she usually did on a thoroughbred not in motion - too big. That would change once she got moving, and she turned and walked the bay filly to the gate as Skylark walked alongside and spoke.
"We're going to keep her further back." The trainer explained. "Don't close with her, no, but keep her a little back. She's clever and she can weave, if you put your size into it. Size up the pack, then move. In race lengths she runs, it's going to be as though she can't keep up, but we know she can, that's the trick. She's smart and needs to be entertained as she runs, but she doesn't break fast enough to precede or we'd give her App's style of running. Keep that in mind. We're going to put her in the gates and go the whole eight furlongs, to prep her good for her next couple races. You know how to do this, I'll be seeing you after you've galloped a mile."
From there, Erin was on her own. Getting C'est Impossible into the gate almost was impossible, which explained why she wasn't going to precede - Erin had a feeling she wouldn't break fast enough for that. However, midrunners were so often overlooked it was almost an advantage in and of itself to be one. She settled in her stirrups and the gates flung open. A moment later, Imp did too. As Erin predicted, it wasn't the fastest, but she'd get better. This trial run was more about running the eight furlongs than anything overly comprehensive, it was no good to flood her with information. The dirt flew up in their faces, and flew out behind them as the redhead held them steady, near the middle of the track. Midrunners moving to the inside, particularly those at the back, was not a wise move, so if she could hold Imp steady, she was sure good things would come to them.
And in fact, it was not too terribly hard to hold Imp steady. The filly was fairly sturdy, and while she pulled, did listen to Erin's hands. That was an excellent start, and with the curve fast approaching, the filly would need to listen, as Erin had every intention of "cutting" it. The curve came in at six furlongs, anyways. Imp would need to make a jump for the front about them, and what better away then a crowd-pleasing, horse-cutting-off way? She wouldn't corner as quick or as sharp as usual, not until later int he season, but she still would.
The trick was all in entering the curve - and straight lines. With a little bit of asking and a lot of stick, Erin got Imp right in to the inside. How far in she'd be able to go depended on the position of the other horses, but Erin was far from against cutting them off if she had to. Once in, they'd continue straight until it looked like they'd simply run off in a tangent. Imp seemed a bit perplexed, but once in that spot, Erin turned her into the corner as they reached the strongest point of the curve, using her own size as something of a counterbalance. It wasn't anything out of a Fast and Furious movie, nor was it too flashy, but it still looked like one of them might tip on over, but it saved them speed, and they were going straight out of the curve a little sooner, which meant valuable seconds.
How, six and a half furlongs in, seconds were everything. Erin bent down lower, looking between Imp's ears, and gave her her head and the stick, to see what she did. Thankfully, no bucking came to be, and instead Erin got sweet, sweet acceleration. She had to say, she was falling more and more in love by the second. They were still accelerating, Erin was sure, as they crossed the eight furlong marker. It took her a little bit to slow down, but once they did they rejoined Skylark, who was writing on a new sheet on his clipboard. "Someone really ought to have filled in all these forms earlier." Skylark mumbled. "As for the time, it looks promising. As for all the paperwork, looks like I'll be at it for quite some time."-----------------------
WORKOUT STATS
words| 935
workout surface| Dirt
distance| 8 furlongs
horse| C'est Impossible
jockey| Erin Trubell
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