TRIPLE CROWN DREAMS

[S u N f r O s T ~]

We were on the road to the Triple Crown. With the Santa Anita Derby just a few days away, Impressario was looking to beat his half sister Once Upon A Dream and get her off the royal throne. He was the king, and any that questioned otherwise had to be beaten. The black three year old moved with quiet purpose at the trot, warming up with unusual ferocity and concentration. After I had made him lose to Secret Miracle in a workout to harness his arrogance, he had become much more humble, and much more concentrated during his races. He now ran to prove his superiority. The road to the Triple Crown was his to reach the end of. He was top competition, but after his loss in the Blue Grass Stakes I knew many might start to doubt him. If he won the Santa Anita and then the Florida Derby, faith would be restored.

The sleek colt had reached full height a couple weeks ago. He hadn't grown an inch for a couple of months, but for all I knew he could grow another hand for his four year old season. His height wasn't what won him races, though. Hard training, and his immense heart did. I refocused on the workout at hand, ready to make sure he became the winner of the Santa Anita. It was his birthright to make it even bigger than he was right now.

Ario responded instantly to my cue to canter. We had been trotting for a while, just slowly warming up, and now the wire was coming into view. We would run a speedy mile so that he was assured that racing his heart out was the right thing to do. Against such talented fillies and colts as we were, running these days was scary, and we were both feeling the pressure of living up to the great expectations before us. His pace quickened as he realized exactly where we were on the track, and he prepared to gallop as my leg muscles tensed in preparation for the crouch.

I asked for his gallop as soon as we passed the wire. He responded instantly, galloping into the precise pace I wanted from him. He ran the first two furlongs at a quick gallop, his regular speed in races. His breath was measured carefully as he breathed in time with his strides. The strides themselves were easy and boundless, each step advertising the great reserve of energy he held at bay. As usual, his eyes looked ahead eagerly for more race to run.

The first turn of our workout came out, and sharply hugging the inside Ario asked impatiently for more rein. After a split second of debate, I let him have it, and he accelerated into a faster pace coming into the backstretch. We were at peace now, him being content with the rein length and happy with his front runner speed. His legs continued to eat up the ground, seeking greater distance between him and the field he knew didn't exist. I decided to push him harder as we flew past the halfway mark, and let loose another inch of rein. He took it up almost cautiously, but his caution wore away in the thrill of new speed, and happiness energized him even further. He became a black comet, speeding along through space to somewhere out of this world.

We just had three furlongs to go - a furlong along the turn, and then two for the stretch. I readied myself, loosening my grip on the reins and letting the colt go for it. We cut through the turn, nearly touching the rail but keeping precisely a centimeter away. His head was down and bobbing comfortably in time with his strides, and now he truly opened it up in his last run for the win as my grip loosened and he discovered that he could run as fast as he liked now.

Unused to being asked for speed as early as I had asked him, he was panting a bit heavily but felt comfortable to me as we flashed under the wire. He had gone through the stretch at blistering speed, just pumping his legs for more and searching when he found there wasn't more. I grinned in quiet victory as I pulled the colt up, knowing our road to the Triple Crown just got smoother.

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