Victory

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This was it. Nothing was stopping us. I earned this. We earned this.

The phrases ran through my head as Tequila shifted underneath me. I swayed my hips with her lurching movement. My leather boots were glued to her side, and my small silver spurs urged her forward to victory. Our victory. Nothing was stopping us. 76 seconds were left on the clock and one more jump was left. A combination. 3 jumps. 6 strides. I felt Tequila change leads underneath me as we charged toward them like an unmanned freight train. This was it. She took off, her black coat shimmering in the yellow lights of the stadium. I pushed forward into my two point, the leather laced reins coming to a momentary rest on her mane.  The crowd gasped softly; combinations were hair-raising. The horse would land and immediately bounce off again. There was no time for collection, even less for preparation. Her front legs touched the arena dirt, and then her back legs came down too. My mare leaped forward, taking the second 4’3’’ jump like it was a mere speck of dust. My hands gripped her rough mane as I closed my eyes. I heard the crowd draw their breath as Tequila landed again, preparing to take on the biggest and longest jump of the three. But we could do this. We earned it. Her front legs lifted up and her back ones followed shortly after as we flew over the jump. I smiled softly at the familiar feeling of suspension. No, flying. We were flying.  And then it ended, as abruptly as it had begun. The crowd jumped up with a roaring applause. But I didn’t hear it. I didn’t hear anything. Only Tequila’s heavy breaths underneath me and the sound of my hand patting her sweaty wither. We had won, as a team. Nothing would stop us. We earned it. 

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