Giant Jockey Dreams

For as long as I can remember I’ve been in love with horses, which is a common story other horse lovers will tell you.  As any other equine obsessed kid, I dreamed of all the possibilities you could have in career with horses, one of which was to be a jockey.  Unfortunately genetics caught up with me and standing 6’2” and being a girl my dreams of days on the track were trampled quite early. 

Or so I thought.  My big black Tennessee Walking Horse and I live in the heart of the Genesee Valley Hunt Country, home to century’s old fox hunting and hunt races.  I’ve been a spectator at many of the local races and never thought of actually running in one of them until I learned of a novice race being held just down the road from us. The ½ mile race on the turf sounded like something Goliath and I could handle so I signed us up.

Race day came I wasn’t sure what to expect and wondered if my lazy trail horse would even run.  My concerns were answered as the first of the days races ran past us to the finish line. When Goliath caught sight of  the field my “bomb proof” horse reared straight up and attempted to bolt off with the herd.  We were running today and Goliath knew it.  I made my way to the registration table and picked up our spiffy saddle blanket, #2. 

Tacked up with the other 4 field members it was time to go!  This 6’2” jockey was ready for the field not knowing what to expect.  Because of our novice status a walking start was issued.  A walking start is where the horses walk in a line to the start.  When the starter sees that all horses are relatively even he drops the flag and they’re off!

We walked up in a line, we were 2^nd to the outside between a draft and a 4yr old TB.  Evenly as we could we walked forward, the flag was dropped, and we were OFF! 

I’m so glad I watched “The Black Stallion” as many times as I did as a kid, because if I didn’t have a hold of his mane I’m sure I would have been left on the ground when we broke.  Goliath had settled into 3^rd behind the TB and the younger of the two quarter horses.  I had to actually hold him back for the first 1/4 mile because he put his whole heart into the run too quickly.  I wanted to keep him right up behind the pacesetter but with enough energy for that last 1/4-mile sprint. 

The first turn went well as we managed to sneak into the inside and move up a little without the effort.  Unfortunately turn #2 spelled disaster for most us because the out gate was located in the middle of the turn.  At one point I think the field practically came to a stop before we could re-direct the horses towards the finish line and spur them on.  Only the QH kept his pace going around turn #2 and left us scrambling to catch up.

By the time I got back up to speed, I was 3 lengths behind the QH.  I peaked behind me and the rest of the field was far behind, with only 1 horse ahead, the scent of potential victory breezed past.  I took my western 7-foot split reins I slapped Goliath on the rump and dug into his sides with my spurs and with an indescribable surge of energy below me, we hit mock 2!  Like the sight of a gun, I looked through Goliath’s ears towards the finish line and calculated the distance vs. speed needed to cross first.  I could almost taste the early victory in my mouth as we quickly closed ground.  Soon we were neck and neck, then head and head, bobbing for the lead just as I felt it; Goliath gave up!  The happy trail horse in him shined through.  Goliath was perfectly content running behind or even with the other horse but he would not pass! 

The finish line came and went and we firmly grasped on to second place.  Our placement didn’t matter; the smile on my face said it all.  I, was a jockey.

Tags: GV Hunt Races, horse dreams, Novice horse race, Schoolhouse Races