runner's high

[S u N f r O s T ~]

The cold sun spilled rays too bright and warm for the weather onto the dark bay's coat. The two year old halted in his powerful walk, allowing the sun to soak into his muscles before continuing. Foolish Lad was maturing quickly. He showed an amazing love of life that I hadn't seen before in the colt, proof that he was learning more things about the world. His muscles rippled along his body, lean because of the distances he ran. I didn't have to guide the colt to the turf track; he simply knew where it would be. As soon as he stepped hoof on the green surface I gave him the cue to canter, and off we went on our warm up. I felt his flex his muscles slightly as we went along, as if checking them for damage before we got down to real business.

Today was a distance run; two miles, or two laps around. Two year olds didn't normally run so far, but the end of the season was approaching, and I wanted Laddy ready to try and sweep the Turf Triple Crown next year at three years old. The colt certainly had the talent, and the willpower as well, to run swiftly for a such a long time. He could do it in under three and a half minutes, hopefully, at a racing gallop.

I sent the colt to the rail as soon as he was warmed up, and then marked my position along the track. I looked for the timer as well, and spotted Henna Turath with Amber Black along the rail. I flashed a brief grin at them, and the thumbs up sign. Amber held up one finger; this meant we had one furlong to go before she would start timing. Taking the signal, I eased out the reins and gently asked Laddy to accelerate. His hooves cut along the turf as he obeyed my command, and before long we were racing the clock in our two mile workout.

Laddy was the type of horse who closed from the outside to take the win. His current pace was laid back but swift, just enough to keep up but not geared for overtaking. The first five furlongs passed in this quiet fashion, and a light sweat had barely broken over his body when he instinctively made to accelerate. Finding my hold tight, Laddy hesitated, unsure of the race we were running, and then kept to the same pace. He placed his faith in me not to lose us this race, and I patted him once, very briefly, to let him know he had made the right decision.

We flashed through the final turn, Laddy making as if to angle to the outside but my hold putting him on the rail. The colt had never been asked to run at the rail in the stretch, but no confusion was shown in his body language. The two year old was intelligent, and had deduced that this workout was not the ordinary one. With two furlongs to go in our first mile, Laddy's breathing stayed the same, calm and easy and enough to bring oxygen through his lungs and keep him going. Indeed, a mile was too short for the colt. He preferred races a furlong longer than this, and could easily go for at least six furlongs above the mile before fully tiring.

We galloped easily under the wire and entered our second mile. He thrust his head forward slightly now, as if drawing strength from his neck as well, speeding up slightly as if bored from keeping to the same pace for so many furlongs. We seldom ran a race beyond ten furlongs, as he was just two, and his stamina was slightly lacking as we passed through our tenth furlong, cresting around the rail and into the backstretch. Just six furlongs left to go, two of which would definitely be a struggle.

Determination coursed through the colt, and he sped up even more to combat the weariness he might now be starting to feel. Sweat covered his body, not lathered but enough to show he was working. The reins were slightly slippery in my hands, but were waterproof and slightly repelled the sweat as well. The gloves I was wearing so my hands didn't get numb from the winter cold also helped with keeping my firm grip on the reins.

We were midway through the backstretch, and I could feel Laddy beginning to tire. The colt seemed to realize this too, and fought back fiercely, lengthening his strides to cover ground quicker as well as relieve some of the speed strain on his muscles. We only had three furlongs left, and all my determination to have a good time now resurfaced. Laddy definitely had the talent and the stamina to run as long as we were running today, and I worked to meld my determination and wanting with his own. As another furlong passed and we charged into the homestretch, our separate wills combined to form one perfect unity, and he accelerated rapidly as my hold fell away and we made our bid for the win.

I challenged the colt, nudging him once every five seconds. He still had speed, as I could feel the blood pounding through his veins and filling him. A sudden euphoria spread from him, and smoothness overcame his strides. I recognized the feeling, and smiled. He was on runners' high, and he was ready to rock it for the last remaining furlong. I turned him completely loose and crouched low, urging with my hands for more speed, my hands moving in time with his furiously bobbing neck, coaxing every last ounce of speed remaining from the dark bay two year old colt until we flashed by the wire and flashed away to victory.

I slowly but effectively slowed the colt up. He dropped smoothly from a canter to a trot, and then to a walk. He was panting heavily, and sweat lathered his coat, but I could feel the satisfaction pouring from him and flavoring the air. It filled me, and I grinned broadly. We trotted for a little bit to cool down, and then I walked him back to Amber and Henna. Both were smiling, and when I saw the time I smiled. Laddy would have gotten a special bath anyway after the two miles he had run so nicely, but seeing the time he had run it in made me add a special pamper session to his daily schedule. The colt certainly deserved it.