It was a beautiful Fall day in central Kentucky and I was hacking horses with my boss, who was virtually iconic in the fox hunting and steeplechasing scene. I was on a particularly squirrel-y customer. The ride on this beastie fell to me because, well, I was hungry enough to throw a leg over almost anything. Normally, he would prank, prop, spook, buck, plunge, bolt and prance his way through our rides but that day, he was hacking along on a loose rein like an old plow horse. We were nearly back, maybe ten minutes out, after an hour and a half ride. He had been a prince the whole time.
I turned to CM, a lifelong horsewoman made of Irish steel, and said "I can't believe how good he's being today. What a pleasant change of pace. Maybe he's deciding he likes this job?"
She scowled at me and responded "You'd better watch your mouth. You're not back yet!"
And like the prophecy come to pass, he put his head between his knees and started bucking like a mechanical bull. We then galloped sideways all the way home. CM arrived back shortly after I did and simply shot me a wry smile.
That was how yesterday was. I woke up early and over coffee blogged about how great I was doing. By mid-day I was totally wrecked and in need of a nap. I ended up bagging the day's workouts in favor of crawling back into bed.
I tried to redeem myself today, but totally butchered my interval workout. You see... math is HARD! And counting to six is still math in my book. **sigh**
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