faceless stranger

[S u N f r O s T ~]

He had changed since he was two. Growing in intelligence, he had also grown in his rebellious side. He had started to question the commands I sent through the reins, but once I proved myself to make better decisions than he could he calmed down. But there had been a fire, set alight by maturation and an overwhelming desire to take the races by as many lengths as possible. Foolish Lad had changed a lot, and was the top prospect for the Turf Triple Crown from SOPS. He had a lot to live up to now, but he wasn't pressured. The thought of racing harder than he was right now was hard to comprehend. He had begun to put all the strength of his body and soul into each and every boundless stride, and was recently the proud winner of the competitive Unicorn Horn Colts. I had no doubt in my mind as to who the champion was this year in the three year old turf division. It was him, grade three Laddy with intelligence and fire sparking out of his eyes.

Each step was different now. Energetic, bouncy, he danced across the track at a bold, confident trot. It was strange, as he no longer acted different but looked different too. His legs were longer and more agile, but he was also more powerfully built than before, with a broader chest and much more intense black eyes. His bay color had richened and now shone like a dark penny beneath the sun's rays. He was different, all right, and now for the final frontier when it came to differences; speed. I urged him into a canter, of which he entered gracefully, and after a couple of furlongs of cantering and loosening up I simply leaned forward and off we went.

There had been no pre-planned decision for our workout today. I was just winging it, but the options for our workout would appear easily. Laddy had a way of letting me know what was best for him these days, another new characteristic that had arisen on his third birthday. Today he was moving straight forward, truly determined and showing that he was ready for an endurance workout. The Unicorn Horn Colts hadn't taken much out of him then. A mile and a half at a strong race pace would be perfect. Twelve furlongs was well within his range.

Two furlongs passed by effortlessly. Laddy had his head down, doggedly increasing his pace slightly. He was looking to work himself hard today. I deepened my crouch, letting the bay have more freedom while still maintaining a loose control. This colt wasn't the type to take advantage of that, knowing that burning himself out before the finish would be a very stupid move that ultimately ended in certain death. Like we all know at the barn, Laddy is extremely smart, and can overcome anything before him. If he was willing to increase the pace by golly I would let him.

Another two furlongs passed. We had a mile to go. I guided the colt past the wire for the first time and continued to let him run his own race. He had settled down now to a steady, smooth, rhythmic run, his breathing the only sound in a seemingly dead world. The sky was clouding up now, blocking the sun. Rain threatened to come and turn the turf into a mud slide. Laddy just quickened his pace a bit more as a clap of thunder sounded. He would outrun this rain, that or race through it.

Another two furlongs. We were just curving around for our final race through the backstretch. Sweat was beginning to darken Laddy's coat to black now, but the rains had not yet released their deluge of water. Foolish Lad continued to race along, not quickening his pace but not lessening it either. His stride became slightly labored, as we were going at a fast pace, but he continued to work himself hard. Definitely no workout tomorrow for him! He'd spend the day in the pasture and still work himself somehow anyway. I went back to thinking about our next move when Laddy snorted between his breaths and slowed the pace slightly.

I nearly fainted in the saddle. Had Laddy really just doubted himself, despite his perfect calculations? Had he really overextended himself, and lived up to his name of being a foolish lad? I held tight to the reins as possibilities raced through my brain and the rail flashed past us in increasingly slower time. Laddy, meanwhile, took a lot of deep breaths, and then struggled to raise his pace. No Laddy, you don't have to! I whispered furiously, and grabbed back on the reins. Surprisingly, even to me, Laddy ignored my cue and went straight for the gold. He was being practically suicidal with working himself this hard. Had I been wrong to trust the colt?

The final turn went by slower than the last one. We were officially in the homestretch. What would the three year old do now? I felt the colt gather himself up mightily and drive his hooves over the track in the motion of a gallop, marching ceaselessly to finish this workout in a blaze of glory. I sank my weight into my heels and held on as Laddy fought against his body. Mind over matter I thought to myself as the pace increased. Laddy wasn't giving up easily. He managed a bare sprint before we flew past he wire. He had run a mile and a half in amazing time.

My grin was insurmountably large as he slowed of his own accord, breathing heavily and with sweat coating him everywhere. Foam lathered from his mouth, but he carried himself with pride off of the track, slowing eventually to a walk. The day had darkened, the sky was gray, but Laddy had managed to beat the rain to the punch, and in the process showed me a bit more of what had changed about him. He was a faceless stranger now, ever changing for better or worse. I'm proud of you Laddy I whispered, and shut my eyes to relive the workout again and again.