Friday, March 6, 2015

Horses on courses

I live on the edge of town, so many of my longer runs and rides take me out through the farmland surrounds us. It's generally quite peaceful - less traffic than in town, fewer intersections to navigate, and the tranquillity of the countryside.

You're happily pedalling or trotting along, enjoying a lovely day. Or you're suffering as you gasp your way up yet another hill. You're completely immersed in the training experience, and then suddenly you feel it.

Those eyes on you.

You're being judged, and found wanting.

Looking around quickly, you try to locate the source of the censorious cloud that hangs above you.

And there it is.

Supercilious bugger.

I can't speak for anyone else's experience, but I'll be damned if every single horse I've ever seen while out doing sweaty things hasn't levelled a disdainful eye at me as I pass. Whether training or racing, near home or far away - every paddock holds enough imperious looks to positively wither even the brightest mood.

I grew up riding horses. I actually quite like them, and always seem to get along with long as I'm not trying to propel myself past them.

I know I'm not fast. I'm definitely not the one to whom they refer when it's stated that humans can outrun horses.

I know I'm not elegant as I puff and pant my way through my workout. These graceful creatures cover miles with an élan I will never approach, striding fluidly along as though they have a special arrangement with gravity.

But just once, could you let me pass without the attitude?

Every. Damn. Time.

Don't even get me started on ducks. Cheeky bastards!

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