These were the three key words of Friday night.
I arrived at the barn freezing to death with little motivation to ride but planning to at least lunge him. I should not have worried so much about riding. There was no time for that by the time I finished lunging him.
|This might as well have been Walker last night|
The first half hour was more of a survival thing. There was another girl lunging and I started to worry that Walker might lose it, rip loose of me, and go flying over there. I mainly walked and jogged him, in a tiny tight circle, with very little cantering. I knew that I would need to canter him eventually though.
Luckily, S is an extremely good rider, and she told me that cantering Walker like a maniac in a giant circle on one end of the arena would not bother her while she rode her horse. I think that she thought I was nervous to canter him, but I was really just nervous to be that rider. You know the one. The one who can't control her horse and causes another rider to go home in a full body cast.
Anyway, I started cantering him and pretty much did this for 20 minutes straight. He was freaking out, and he was less than impressed. By the end though, he started to settle down. I was exhausted from having to chase a cantering/galloping horse around the arena with a lunge whip.
But Walker didn't sweat. Because Walker just doesn't sweat in Winter. I have resigned myself to this. I don't know what he does, but he somehow manages to turn his sweat glands off around October. Knock on wood. Clipping looks messy.