The Little Engine That Could
|The side-eye is strong with this one.|
Dino and I keep working, because that's pretty much the only way I know how to handle frustration. Work more. Fix it. Do the thing. Do the thing better.
Saturday was fitness day. I'm trying to stick to doing fitness sets religiously once a week, because the last thing I want to worry about is having a pooped pony halfway through XC. I have way more important things to think about, like actually getting to the other side of the jumps.
Now that the tall weeds have been cut down, I've moved back to our big 50ac field for conditioning. The hills are bigger/better than in the back field, and while looping around the big field isn't the most thrilling thing ever, it's slightly more thrilling than riding behind the pastures, with less chance of running into a flock of geese, the resident fox, the resident crazy turkey, or being ambushed by woodchucks in trees.
Tree-dwelling woodchucks are a legitimate thing. Trust me.
It took Dino a couple minutes into the first trot set to really warm up and get swinging, but after that he felt great. It was a hot day, low 80's with bright sun, and it didn't take long for both of us to be drenched in sweat.
|GIVE ME THE SNAX, LADY|
I also practiced getting Dino up in front of my leg and up in his shoulders during our ride - getting that powerful, carrying, uphill XC canter. He was pretty responsive to my forward-sending half halts, and it only took a little tickle from Mr. Sticky to really light him up and turn on the afterburners. I'm trying to ingrain the feeling of that canter as best I can, and make it our go-to mode of movement.
EuroPony was pooped after that ride.