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Post by Sam on Aug 25, 2009 22:21:48 GMT -5
Horse Tempered Passion
Jockey Sam Lettington
Purpose Work out for Spring Cup and normal work out
The colt hooves sprung in anticipation. His nostrils flared wide, gaping at the oxygen with great gusts of air out of pure excitement. He trotted along, his mouth pulling eagerly against the bit. Who ever said race horses were forced to run, never met this colt. Once his hooves stepped on the lush turf, he knew where he belonged.
With a small huff, he picked up a trot when I signaled him to. There was a saying that you tell a gelding, ask a mare, and negotiate with a stallion. Have long, long negotiations and conversations about it. I believed this was true. How ever when it was Tim, I just held back and let him do it when I wanted him to. It made him quite a handful for most riders but I was well adapted to how he rode, which is grand considering he's one of my favorite horses to ride.
After several minutes, I allowed his body to rock into the motions of a canter. I stood confidently in the stirrups, holding back the young colt as he tried to convince me to allow the reins to slip so he could hurry up and get to the fun part- the all out sprint at the stretch. Despite how I too wanted to get to the fun part, I had to keep him slow and steady so he wouldn't come up lame before the race.
Minutes later, I rounded him into the inner rail, holding him steady so he wouldn't attempt to gallop before I allowed him to. I waited for the ten furlong marker, as usual. And as usual, he argued with me the whole way.
Finally, the ten furlong marker came upon us. With a small flick of my wrists, the colt was galloping under me. At first, like always, his strides were frantic, quick, and short. Then they smoothed out and came clean and strong.
His long legs made short work of the back stretch and the corner came up much too soon for my liking, but I knew the colt was fast. He has yet to tire at the end of the race with this normal fast pace of his.
Around the stretch we went, my hand giving expert guidance to him. He pulled slightly against me, trying to fight and get farther from the rail as natural instincts insist he must do to stay balanced. I stood in the stirrups slightly, helping him from falling one way or the other and soon he grew more comfortable.
The stretch opened up and the colt didn't waste time as he picked up his sprint. His breathes came just as quick as his strides. His nose dipped forwards. His mane whipped in my face. My hands followed his mouth, urging him faster and faster.
His muscles rippled, bunched, and bundled up his thin Thoroughbred hide, powering his lean body forwards faster. My knuckles rubbed along his neck, being tickled lightly by his short mane. Sweat started to lather upon his neck in the hot spring sun.
Soon the wire was above us and the colt was just starting to tire.
Word Count 531
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