The optimist in us says that Mathilda is getting stronger. The pessimist points to her weight, wonders about her age, and questions the rosy-coloredness of our glasses. Either way, she is on stall rest/hand-grazing during the day while Rodney is out. At night, they swap & we let her move about at will. While Rodney has adjusted to a stall for long periods, she stiffens up. Hence the multiple grazing breaks. Having conclusively proven that she cannot be trusted to behave herself in company, I get to chaperon.
It’s easy duty. She eats. I hold the leadrope. She wanders. I follow. I read light but engaging books (Mercedes Lackey, Elmore Leonard). If he wanders too close, I give him the hairy eyeball. When she’s tired, I drag her back to the barn. The only physical effort is gentle walking and watching out for fire ant hills. And yet, I am exhausted. My two pairs of wonder boots help (Wellies & Red Wings [Thank You, Needful Extravagance]), but after a total of 4 hours grazing yesterday all I wanted to do in the evening was collapse into my chair and whine about my feet.
How long have you ever had to graze a horse?
Virtual Brush Box 
Spending four hours on your feet requires seriously great shoes. Needful expense is exactly right.