Right, right. Yesterday was "wednesday" by tradtitional accounts... but by horsey accounts, it felt a lot like tuesday.
I rode the beast on my own, and we entered the ring just as everyone else was leaving it.. We had a decent lunge session - aside from the fact that when I snapped up some extra lunge line, I also snapped up a crap-ton (official unit of measure) of arena sand into my eyeball.
On one hand, it was an educational opportunity for my semi insulated, non-street fighting self... as I had never truely understood the value and effectiveness of throwing/kicking/shoving dirt/sand in an assailant's face. So... from a self-defense/tough girl perspective, I was grateful. From a holy-crap-there's-8lbs-of-sand-in-my-eyeball perspective, it sucked.
Fortunately for me, Pia decided that my cries of terror and blind scrambling in a circle must have sounded somewhat similar to my coos of "eeeeea-sssyyyyy. aaaaand whoaaaaaa." Because she politely stopped and waited for my shrieks of "my eye, by EYYYYYYYYEEEEE" to die down.
Anywhoo. After that I hopped on and we literally had a repeat of "tuesday." Snotty, switching up her tricks. Refusing to go forward, refusing to stop. Cranky lateral work, blowing through hand/leg/seat/(lady's choice) but always fixing what I corrected and finding a new "loophole" to shoot through.
Then, after about 40 minutes of work, Ta-Da!!! Perfection! Light, forward, swinging perfection. We got 10 minutes of lovely, easy trot work and called it a day.
I'll admit that this pattern is confusing me, but I'll take it. Especially since we seemed to get to the nice trot work with slightly fewer theatrics today than yesterday, though maybe that's just my recency bias...
In other news, I think I'm still digging sand out of my eye... ew.