Someone once told me that horses poop once an hour. 

Anyone who has "mucked out" a stall, or a thousand, will tell you that the glamour of performing manual labour wears off at about stall four.  It remains a never ending constant if you stable horses. Every morning like Groundhog Day the stall which was as fresh as a new idea when you put the horse in has been reduced to that hotel room in the movie The Hangover by morning. Every morning. How do you deal with the tedium? You can tell yourself that it's physical exercise, or that it is in essence a selfless act which you must endure on your way to sainthood, and a bronze statue in the town square. 

The secret is to treat the whole experience as you would the rain, the heat, the snow and the cold. It is what it is.

That and getting someone else to do the work. Then you can sit back and talk all "philosophical" and hope nobody notices that you're making s**t up.