Winner, Winner

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Victoria

With only a couple of hours to go before the rodeo started, my palms were sweating with immense anxiety. I haven't heard from Zak since last night, and I was beginning to worry that he wouldn't make it, but in a way, I would be relieved because knowing that he was possibly coming was enough to boost my anxiety through the roof. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of a man I liked, and I know I'm not the only one who feels that way!

Just as I finished saddling Arson up in my roping saddle, I gave him a pat to his thick neck before I moved around him to ensure Dakota and Dallas were tied securely to the trailer before I rode Arson around to warm him up, knowing he was the only one with a higher energy level compared to my other two, and he was taking advantage of the warmer weather as he was feeling excited himself. I was still dressed in leggings, a flannel, and sneakers whereas the other riders were decked out in their sponsorship shirts, jeans, and boots. Me, however, didn't give a shit about dressing up and looking nice as I truly hated wearing jeans. Hated it, and I would wait until the very last minute to put a pair of jeans on.

I had already received a few judgmental looks from the other barrel racers, but like I said, I didn't give a shit. How I looked had no comparison to how I rode my horse. After all, my mom always used to say:

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