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I had been away from the races for nearly nine months and this was the last serious workout--the deciding factor on whether or not I would run this weekend. Everything relied upon how it went; it had to be flawless, or the "miracle comeback of a lifetime" would be nothing more than a "what if" on Saturday. Earlier this year, I was pulled up during a workout after taking a bad step. The sharp pain I felt at the time, couldn't compare with what I overheard people saying later. I had torn a ligament and slightly damaged the cannon bone in my left foreleg--I would be out of action for six months. All hopes riding on me to carry the stable's colors in the Kentucky Derby instantly left the building. The injury was so severe that talk of my early retirement began circulating in the stables. My recovery had been both long and trying, but the one thing I learned young was that if you believe it's possible, you can make it happen.
I paused momentarily to take in my surroundings at the track entrance. Satisfied, I stepped onto the track allowing a new energy to engulf me.
"Let her out slowly," a man with gloves and trenchcoat yelled from the rail as we jogged past him. A thousand thoughts were running through my mind but all I really cared about was that today was the day I got to run. This entire week, I had done nothing but jog the track or walk the shedrow--it was time to move on! Breaking into a canter with a tight rein that kept my neck arched, I could feel the energy bubble boiling hotter now. Not much longer the voice inside me kept repeating.
It was colder than usual this morning; the frosty morning air filled my lungs as the momentum increased with each stride down the track. Members of the press gathered along the rail, timers in hand. They had come to see a show, a spectacular run, and I wanted to give it to them.
Hard held for the moment, I could think of nothing else but to run faster than my current speed. "Easy girl, not yet," a gentle female voice whispered on my back. Come on, give me the signal. Flicking my ears back, I listened intently for the cue. Let me loose! I was to the point where I couldn't stand it any more. Finally, I decided the rider would have to give in. Despite the irritating pressure on my mouth, the pace began to quicken and the rider became nothing more than a passenger on a freight express. As if suddenly realizing this, her hands dropped low over my neck, loosening the tight rein she held.
With my head fully extended, I exploded like a rocket off the far turn, knocking her off my neck and back into the saddle's seat. "Easy girl, easy," she repeatedly called, trying to regain her balance. There was no stopping me now!! We pounded off the turn and into the home stretch as one, running faster and faster. The rhythmic beat of my hooves hitting the ground corresponded with the snorts of warm air I blew out; together they sounded like an electrifying thunder storm approaching. The sharp cold air slapped my face and the wind whipped through my mane, begging me to run faster still.
Instantly, everything but other horses became a blur; I picked them off one by one--passing them as if they were tied to a post. The ground was gobbled up in a hurry with every stride, but more importantly, I was feeling great. All too soon it seemed, we flashed past the finish line--a signal that the workout was over--but I didn't want to stop now. Back into the first turn we sailed with me, wanting to run on even more. "Alright, alright, good girl," an out of breath voice said on my back. Suddenly the tight pull of the rein returned and I felt a cold hand pat my neck. Reluctantly my stride shortened in obedience, but not before we ended up rounding the track again.
The tall, older man wearing a trenchcoat and gloves greeted us upon our return. Stop watch in hand, I could see a rare gleam in his eyes as we approached him--that was a signal that I had passed the test. "Well, we wanted a signal, and she gave it to us--she really gave it to us," he said overjoyed. "All systems are go for Saturday. How'd she feel?" he asked.
"Absolutely awesome! I'm so glad you gave the signal when you did--she was ready to leave me in a heap on the ground when she took off," the rider blew in between breaths. "She nearly unseated me, too! At least I remembered to grab her mane. There's no doubt she's ready to run the race of her life."
That was exactly what I wanted to hear as I danced back to stables. The outcome also seemed to meet full approval with the media members because they approached the older man with nothing but stunned expressions upon their faces. As I walked off to be unsaddled and given a bath, I could hear them talking.
"I doubt there is a horse alive that could top that run."
"Absolutely incredible! She's a definite monster, it'll sure be tough to beat her."
"Beat her?! I doubt even the boys could handle her at this point. What a remarkable recovery she's made."
Grinning in my own fashion at the commending praise, I felt like I was on top of the world. After a strenuous road to recovery, my old form had returned--plus some. Any remaining doubts fell by the wayside this morning. I had been looking forward to racing again for some time now, and thanks to my marvelous workout and miraculous comeback, that desire would finally be fulfilled come Saturday.