Warming Up, Breaking Down

You never know how well your career is going until something ends it unexpectedly. There's no telling what it will be, maybe you get fired, you lose your specialized license... maybe the horse your training breaks your back when it gets into a pissing match with the horse next to it. Anything can happen, but you'll never see it coming. I didn't. 

Illoria Equestrian Center has only ever had one racehorse. All of our other horse can lift their legs high, or clear jumps with room to spare, but none of them are eat-your-heart-out racers. I happen to be our one rider who knows how to stick to a racehorse barreling down the track at 45mph. So naturally, I got offered the job of retraining a horse for another stable. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't blame the owners. Alli, bless her soul, did warn me that Banshee was hardheaded. Something about Tap just pissed her off and distracted her from putting her feet on the ground correctly. Mares. 

Anyway, you probably want to know the gritty details, so here you go. This is about the horse that ended my career and finished 11 furlongs in two minutes flat. 

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It was foggy, I can remember that very clearly for some reason. It made everything surreal. Even with Tap in the next starting gate over, I could barely see her and Ian. How they drafted Ian to ride a racehorse I'll never know. He's pretty good at sticking his seat, though, I'll give him that. Point is, the fog was thick as pea soup, and where the track ended and the descent to the river along it began, I couldn't tell you for a thousand dollars. Yet here we were, loaded into the starting gate like it was fair weather and a gentle breeze out.

Right off the bat Banshee was giving me a hard time, she nearly kicked Dawson in the chest when he closed the gate behind us. I've never heard a horse make so much noise just because they could. She was snorting and whinnying like it was a contest. When Tap loaded into the gate next to her it only got worse. I didn't think anyone could dislike a mare as friendly as that but leave it to Banshee to be the one. We were still fine at this point, even if I was somewhat irritated. It wasn't until after Dawson sounded the buzzer and the gates opened the trouble began.

That damned mare slammed me against the side of the gate as she bolted out. Nearly knocked me loose, but I grabbed mane at the last second and managed to get her going straight. I don't think she realized we were just doing a training start. Damn mare thought she was at the Kentucky Derby taking off like she did. With a horse like her, it's better to just let them run, so we did. I don't even know how Tap left the gate. I don't know if she behaved or acted up, I just know I was holding on for dear life for that first stretch. At some point, before the first turn, I got myself back together, shoved the pain in my shoulder out of my mind, and got her going at a steadier pace. 

At that point, Tap caught up and was running just behind us. She likes to sprint the last length, coming from behind, so I wasn't surprised she was lagging a bit. Banshee, though, was acting like she was a front runner. She ran like a bat out of hell the entire time we were on the track. Those last two furlongs, though, those are what did us in. Tap started pulling up next to us and Banshee lost it. I didn't think two mares could get so pissy with each other during a race. That's something stallions do, but nobody told that to these two.

Banshee started losing her straight path to the finish line, she moved over towards Tap, and that pissed of the smaller mare to the point where she almost snapped at her. This is where things went bad. One furlong left to go and Banshee misstepped. All four of us hit the dirt. I don't know how Banshee walked away without a scratch. Ian was bruised up, sprained his wrist pretty good, but Tap managed to slow up before dumping him. She'll need some time off to recover from some minor strains and general soreness, but she didn't break anything - thank god. Then there was me. When Banshee fell she landed on her side. Maybe it was her back, it happened too fast for me to truly know. She landed on me, though. I felt something snap, I felt the searing pain, and then I blacked out. Banshee got up, saw Tap up and walking, and they finished the last bit of the race on their own. Banshee won, I'm not surprised by that. Her and Tap must be sworn enemies at this point. 

I don't know the rest of what happened after that. How they caught the horses or what happened in the ambulance, none of it stuck in my head. I can't remember a thing. I just know I woke up the next day in a hospital bed with a brace strapped around me and an IV drip of the good stuff in my arm. Eva and Dawson were in the same room and not fighting, that's when I knew it was bad. Dylan was there, too, sleeping on the side of the bed. I didn't realize how much I'd missed him until I saw him there like a sad puppy. That's a different story though. 

But, there it is. That's how I broke my back or fractured the vertebrae, or whatever the official term is. I can still move everything, but I don't know if I can ride anymore. I still can't stop thinking about how that horse ran, though. It was beautiful like all she knew was the dirt beneath her hooves and running until there was nowhere else to go and nothing left to give. I hope I can visit her again. I want to see her win.