Goals: work my ass off, somehow make it to the Olympics in 2012, graduate on time…Sigh, yeah right, if I want to get all that done, something has got to give!I snort at my own thoughts, trust me to have a conversation with myself in my own head. An impatient wicker brings me back to reality and I laugh at my mare,
thomas sabo günstig, Fable's expression. Hurry up Tristan! We should be out and about by now! After five years of owning the same horse, yes, we pretty much know what the other is thinking. At 15hh Fable's not that big, but she makes up for it in personality. She's a beautiful deep red brown with black points on her legs and a black mane and tail more commonly known as a bay. and she's got a snip that takes up her entire nose. basically it looks like she shoved her nose in white paint. It's rather adorable.I grabbed my helmet and started leading Fable out to the mounting block. I ran down the stirrups on both sides, tightened the girth, smirked when Fable tried to take a nip at me, but missed, made sure everything was in it's proper place and swung aboard."Tristan, I could tack up ten horses in the time it takes you to tack up one!" laughed my long time friend Emily, from the back of her horse, Layla. Goodness, have you ever known those people who just seem to have everything? Layla is quite possibly one of the most gorgeous horses I have ever seen, as a chestnut with a big blaze and two hind stockings, literally looks like she stole a smaller and more feminine version of the Pie from National Velvet. Emily is quite striking herself, 5'7, size four or six,brunette, milk chocolate eyes and a smile that makes every guy melt. Next to her, I look like Attila the Hun. 5'11" 190 pounds, dirty blonde and eyes that can never stay the same color long enough. They're either blue, blue gray, gray with blue flecks around the the outside with light hazel around the pupil. I mean really make up your mind, if you want to be blue, be blue, hazel? be hazel. No, my eyes have to be as consistent as a schizophrenic."Yes, you could, but would they look as fabulous as Fable does?" I countered."She doesn't have to look like she's going into the Olympics everyday."Oh, she opened a can of worms with that one. Emily knows how hard I train and work for my goal. "Besides," oh crap, Em forgot her smart pills this morning, "I thought you wanted to ride Hendrix in London. It's not like Fable can make the height." Emily's gloved hand smacked her mouth when she realized that she is shoving her foot in her mouth."Uh, huh, match race on the trails today. Oh and we are so hitting the steeplechase course.""You wouldn't back out if I apologized would you?""No. Besides every ride our horse is learning from us, so we have to make it worth their while.""Explain Layla then.""Not your fault, Darren's got a reputation." Referring to a horrible trainer who had over-faced Layla as a filly creating a very skittish animal. Humph, beauty is as beauty does.Thinking about beauty, I smiled when I saw Fable's daughters bucking and galloping around their field. We started walking between the pastures to the woods where the trails are"Looks like Winnie definitely inherited Fable's speed," Emily commented, looking at the spirited fillies as we passed. "Why not wait until they're mature to compete at that level?""Because I'm fit now, and despite Hendrix's quirks, he is an amazing athlete."He is, also he has the looks that match, shocker, not. He's a bay like Fable, instead of the nose dip, he has a stripe, a pencil thin white stripe that covers the length of his face. He's the epitome of tall dark and handsome. That's right boys, your competition is a six year old, 16.2 hh Thoroughbred gelding. Quirks? Well, he's just very particular about how he likes things done, and he has his own unique style with how he moves. I get the best of what I love in this world with him, quirkiness, and beauty."Will you have time to compete with school starting?""I'll make time" I replied determedly. Recieving a laugh from Emily"So," She casually began, too casually I thought, "Have you seen Marco lately?" Referring, to my rival from the eventing circuit. If the man weren't so gorgeous…well you know where that thought could go. Basically: 6 foot, dark brown hair, hazel eyes, buff from years of rowing, and triathlons, as well as being an amazing horse back rider. Gah! I hate people like that, where everything just seems to come so easily, and he's not just a meathead, no, he makes the Dean's List every semester at our university, in one of the toughest majors: Business. Of course, this means I see him all the time,
CrianÇa Botas Timberland, as I am a marketing major, and on the weekends at schooling shows, clinics, and events. Honestly, we used to be good friends; until I figured out he was a class 3.There are three classes of men who ride: 1) in a committed relationship, or single and won't settle for less that they deserve. This is the category that we all love, because we know they would never stray. 2) Gay, pretty much self-explanatory. Last but certainly not least 3): Man whore, these are the guys that have it all figured out; there's one of them and 100 plus girls, their odds are pretty good. Of course not many date them, because they are man whores.Anyways back to Emily and myself:"No.""That was a simple answer.""You asked a simple question.""Touché."Before, Emily could enquire further about my, I guess the term is frenemy, I leaned forward and Fable took off like a bat out of hell. I smirked to myself and started humming Meatloaf's lyrics to myself. When Emily and Layla finally caught us, she sent a questioning expression my way; "Why are you singing?""Just enjoying the moment." I said, "So start at the box, and go through the training level steeplechase course?"Obvious relief swept through my friend's features, "Okay, that's doable.""What? Were you expecting Preliminary?" Prelim is a big, Sally O Connor describes it as "No longer beginner" The jumps are 3'7" with base spreads of 6 feet or more, and brush is four inches higher. Layla is not ready for that, and no you cannot make a horse ready, they will tell you when it is time to move up. Thanks to Darren, she has major confidence issues."Well, yeah, daredevil you...""Nah, we're just having our 'serious fun' today"By this time Fable and Layla picked up on what was going on: race time. Emily and I checked our girths one last time, went into the start box, and started our count down together: "5, 4, 3, 2, 1...BLAST OFF!" we're dorks like that.Fable leaped forward as if propelled by a cannon, I kept my reins taught so she could brace herself against me for balance. Her haunches bunched under herself, as she prepared for the first obstacle: a 3'3" planter box filled with brush. Fable snorted and danced a little on the approach, as if she expected me to check her, Hell no! Its race time! Fable bounded over the jump as if she had wings, So this must be what it's like to ride Pegasus! I thought as we soared through the air landing a good six feet beyond the jump. Layla and Emily were dead even with us, not a shocker, considering Layla's mother was a champion endurance horse, and had the speed to go for miles. I shot a grin at my friend as Fable decided to pour on more speed and inched ahead. Each jump that followed mirrored the first as Emily and I bounded around the course. In the end Layla shocked me by pouring on more speed and shot ahead by a head and won.Laughing, Emily and I high fived savoring each moment of summer we had left.First day of classes came too soon."Intro to Marketing Theory" I muttered, "Woo-hoo, start the party.""Aw, Trist, it won't be that bad" A familiar voice said from behind me."Marco, that's what you said when we walked our first advanced cross country course.""Hey you finished! And with just enough time faults so I could squeak by in show jumping."I just scowled at him. That was Hendrix's (and my own) first attempt at advanced and, Hendi got a little flustered in the water complex, good thing I overshot my line so I could do the long route at the last minute and not get the penalty points for a refusal at the direct route. Long route, it's all in the name, took more time and since I was going than the slower the optimum time already, I racked up 10 time faults, and since I was only ahead of Marco by 9 faults, he took home first prize. I don't think his horse knows how to knock down a rail. Luckily, neither does Hendi.I don't mind second, I really don't, it was a fantastic learning experience and I had fun, I just don't like Marco throwing it in my face that he placed above me. If I can be a gracious loser, why can't he be a gracious winner? I only felt like a loser after he started taunting me. Not to mention, he has the same goal as me: make the 2012 Olympic team, he just needs to decide between triathlon and eventing. If he picks the latter, then we'll be teammates.Oh, crap.Topics related articles:
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