Post by creativecause on May 7, 2015 16:57:05 GMT -5
Unrelenting
Take Flight and Andrew Martin - Belmont Turf Classic Workout
Dare To Impress and Alex Shade - Fall Workout
link
Fly followed Imp out onto the turf track at Green Horse Fields and yanked hard on the reins. He tossed his head violently and lifted his front into the air, his powerful legs struck the air. He finished out with a quick lunge forward and started snorting wildly. Eyes flashed with determination and rage. Fly was a horse who was obsessed, hungry, and worst of all angry. Frustration pushed this horse to go to up and beyond of what was expected of him, he turned every workout into a blowout.
Imp on the other hand was coming off of an undercard win and seemed to be in rather good spirits, of course her flirtatious attitude and nagging only angered Fly further. She pranced about swishing her tail this way and that, it was almost as if she was fluttering her eyes at him. She was acting so uncharacteristically cocky it almost made Alex laugh.
He had every advantage in this race, he was the horse who was meant to destroy Pandora’s bid for the Turf Triple Crown and Andrew Martin and Fly were more than willing to shut them down. This was his track, his distance, and the very race he was bred to win. It was his birth right and he was more than willing to take it.
Today he’d be working with a former Turf Triple Crown near miss, Dare To Impress, at this point in the year last season Imp had been sitting in the same boat as Pandora. Often when Fly and Imp were placed in a work together they really got after each other and it almost always resulted in a bullet work. With Fly in his current state this was one of the most anticipated works of the day.
Their warm up was quick, but worthwhile, Imp seemed to have settled down quite a bit and Alex had her well in hand. Fly on the other hand was still a firing ball of horse power, tossing his rear end into the sky several times before finally settling enough to be walked into the gate next to his older workmate.
The gates burst open and all hell broke lose, Imp was out fast, way too fast and Fly wasn’t about to lose to the older mare, so he broke off at a sprint after her. They were already sprinting and they still had a whole eight furlongs to run.
The son of Merry Bay King hooked up with the daughter of Impressario and they drove at each other with all they had. Muscles working like a well oiled machine, the wind whipping at their coal black manes like it whips through prairie grass in the planes of South Dakota. Nostrils heaved in massive amounts of Oxygen and pumped blood through every vein in their body, they were like one, but not.
Imp would step on the gas some more and Fly was right there to push her back, they were in a perfect rhythm. The only sound on the track was the beating of their hooves as one and their hearts.
There was beauty in the way these two took after each other, how they both ran like there was no tomorrow in eachothers presence, how they hit the ground running every time that gate opened. It’s like they had this silent rivalry amongst themselves, though they’d never faced each other outside of being workmates.
Exactly in sync they took off at a sprint down the back stretch, they were extensions of each other, Imp was Fly’s shorter shadow on the rail. There wasn’t going to be anyone to shove Pandora around come race day, so it was Fly’s job to keep close to the filly and unleash his incredible closing kick that he could win any race from any spot in the field with.
They were already going much faster than they should have been and Alex and Andrew knew it, but neither could bring themselves to slow their mounts down. The raw speed and determination flooding off of the them was incredible. They were locked in a full out sprint, yet niether tired. They just kept digging at each other showing the world the true troopers and champions that they were. They were in a dog fight of sorts and it was a good thing too, because Fly needed to be able to win after a grueling dog fight, and he’d done it before, he would do it again. 12 furlongs didn’t scare anyone away on team Grayson Meadows, this horse was born to run the marathons and win them by large or small margins.
The final turn was reaching an end and Andrew switched Fly’s lead over, Alex a step slower switched Imps and when the stretch opened up ahead of them Fly did just as his barn name insinuated, he flew. He grew wings and put two lengths between him and Imp just in three strides and he didn’t show any signs of slowing down. Imp broke off after him, a fire ignited in her eyes, the familiarness of a horse who could gut it out to the wire, the horse who he’d rode in the Breeders’ Cup was back, Alex could feel it. Her heart raced with the thrill of the competition, the drive to push herself that much further was back in full swing and she exerted herself for more, cutting into Fly’s lead. But the colt was unrelenting, he wasn’t slowing down or stopping for anyone, he was there to take what was rightfully his.
It looked as if his legs barely touched the turf, he was just grazing over it as he flew his way to victory. This race was Fly’s for the taking, and he was going to run himself into the ground to get there.
link
Fly followed Imp out onto the turf track at Green Horse Fields and yanked hard on the reins. He tossed his head violently and lifted his front into the air, his powerful legs struck the air. He finished out with a quick lunge forward and started snorting wildly. Eyes flashed with determination and rage. Fly was a horse who was obsessed, hungry, and worst of all angry. Frustration pushed this horse to go to up and beyond of what was expected of him, he turned every workout into a blowout.
Imp on the other hand was coming off of an undercard win and seemed to be in rather good spirits, of course her flirtatious attitude and nagging only angered Fly further. She pranced about swishing her tail this way and that, it was almost as if she was fluttering her eyes at him. She was acting so uncharacteristically cocky it almost made Alex laugh.
He had every advantage in this race, he was the horse who was meant to destroy Pandora’s bid for the Turf Triple Crown and Andrew Martin and Fly were more than willing to shut them down. This was his track, his distance, and the very race he was bred to win. It was his birth right and he was more than willing to take it.
Today he’d be working with a former Turf Triple Crown near miss, Dare To Impress, at this point in the year last season Imp had been sitting in the same boat as Pandora. Often when Fly and Imp were placed in a work together they really got after each other and it almost always resulted in a bullet work. With Fly in his current state this was one of the most anticipated works of the day.
Their warm up was quick, but worthwhile, Imp seemed to have settled down quite a bit and Alex had her well in hand. Fly on the other hand was still a firing ball of horse power, tossing his rear end into the sky several times before finally settling enough to be walked into the gate next to his older workmate.
The gates burst open and all hell broke lose, Imp was out fast, way too fast and Fly wasn’t about to lose to the older mare, so he broke off at a sprint after her. They were already sprinting and they still had a whole eight furlongs to run.
The son of Merry Bay King hooked up with the daughter of Impressario and they drove at each other with all they had. Muscles working like a well oiled machine, the wind whipping at their coal black manes like it whips through prairie grass in the planes of South Dakota. Nostrils heaved in massive amounts of Oxygen and pumped blood through every vein in their body, they were like one, but not.
Imp would step on the gas some more and Fly was right there to push her back, they were in a perfect rhythm. The only sound on the track was the beating of their hooves as one and their hearts.
There was beauty in the way these two took after each other, how they both ran like there was no tomorrow in eachothers presence, how they hit the ground running every time that gate opened. It’s like they had this silent rivalry amongst themselves, though they’d never faced each other outside of being workmates.
Exactly in sync they took off at a sprint down the back stretch, they were extensions of each other, Imp was Fly’s shorter shadow on the rail. There wasn’t going to be anyone to shove Pandora around come race day, so it was Fly’s job to keep close to the filly and unleash his incredible closing kick that he could win any race from any spot in the field with.
They were already going much faster than they should have been and Alex and Andrew knew it, but neither could bring themselves to slow their mounts down. The raw speed and determination flooding off of the them was incredible. They were locked in a full out sprint, yet niether tired. They just kept digging at each other showing the world the true troopers and champions that they were. They were in a dog fight of sorts and it was a good thing too, because Fly needed to be able to win after a grueling dog fight, and he’d done it before, he would do it again. 12 furlongs didn’t scare anyone away on team Grayson Meadows, this horse was born to run the marathons and win them by large or small margins.
The final turn was reaching an end and Andrew switched Fly’s lead over, Alex a step slower switched Imps and when the stretch opened up ahead of them Fly did just as his barn name insinuated, he flew. He grew wings and put two lengths between him and Imp just in three strides and he didn’t show any signs of slowing down. Imp broke off after him, a fire ignited in her eyes, the familiarness of a horse who could gut it out to the wire, the horse who he’d rode in the Breeders’ Cup was back, Alex could feel it. Her heart raced with the thrill of the competition, the drive to push herself that much further was back in full swing and she exerted herself for more, cutting into Fly’s lead. But the colt was unrelenting, he wasn’t slowing down or stopping for anyone, he was there to take what was rightfully his.
It looked as if his legs barely touched the turf, he was just grazing over it as he flew his way to victory. This race was Fly’s for the taking, and he was going to run himself into the ground to get there.