Sound? Really?

Anyone who has been around horses for any length of time has likely heard it said just how amazing it is that a horse’s full weight (averaging around 1000 pounds) can be supported on a single leg with an ankle whose size averages that of a man’s ankle. When a horse is galloping, that is exactly what happens. For each of the four beats of that gait, its weight is alternately supported by each of its legs.

My semi-educated quess-timate is that a normal Thoroughbred reaches speeds of around 40 mph in a race. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that as a jockey, the absolute worst place to be when your horse breaks down is on the lead.

If a horse is running sore—and by that I mean that they can feel some pain—it will often be their good leg that goes when they break down. The reason for this is that they are getting off of their sore leg, and putting the majority of their weight on their pain-free leg. I suppose that at top speeds, this inequitable distribution of weight can’t be sustained for long.

Long before I ever met Mark Johnston, I remember being at a gathering that included many racetrackers, a good number of them current and ex-jockeys. Charlie Woods, a long-time Kentucky rider who had at that point hung up his tack to become a jockey’s agent, was talking about a rider that had just moved his tack back to the Bluegrass.

That jockey was Mark, and Charlie was relaying a story about how Mark had marveled at just how sound the Kentucky horses were. Coming here from Maryland, Mark told Charlie, the difference in his mounts was marked. He said that in pre-race warm-ups at East Coast tracks, horses would sometimes be a little “off.” Sometimes they warmed up out of it, and sometimes the jockeys would call it to the attention of the state vet, who might then have the animal scratched. But here in Kentucky, Mark said, the horses were all so sound!

A few years later, as Mark, Jerry and I traveled around the Midwest racing Joe’s horses, I asked Mark about this conversation with Charlie Woods. He shook his head at his naivety back then.

“It’s not that they were truly sound,” Mark said. “It’s more like they didn’t even know they had legs. And as jockeys, we didn’t stand a chance. There was no chance to feel them take a bad step and pull them up. They were running flat out, and when the leg blew, the horse went down.

Daily Notes: Still examining the possible reasons that our tithing “harvest” may be delayed, Dr. Hood, in Rich Toward God, lists reason number 6 as:

Perspective—For now, let’s simply summarize this reason as “learning the secret to contentment.” Again, you may be doing all the Lord wants you to do but, since he knows all of our hearts better than we know ourselves, he may be seeing an area where we’re not as sensitive to the reality of our blessings as we need to be. Waiting on God will also heighten our sense of appreciation, especially in the area of giving. They story of the widow who gave her two copper coins (all she had to live on) humbles me and shows me that I have a lot to learn about generosity.

Well, amen to that, Dr. Hood! That story is found in Luke 21: 1-4. But I’m going to back up to the prior paragraph, where Jesus is once again dogging the religious hoity-toities. Starting at Luke 20: 45 and continuing through 21: 4, The Message reads:

With everybody listening, Jesus spoke to his disciples. “Watch out for the religion scholars. They love to walk around in academic gowns, preen in the radiance of public flattery, bask in prominent positions, sit at the head table at every church function. And all the time they are exploiting the weak and helpless. The longer their prayers, the worse they get. But they’ll pay for it in the end.”

Just then he looked up and saw the rich people dropping offerings in the collection plate. Then he saw a poor widow put in two pennies. He said, “The plain truth is that this widow has given by far the largest offering today. All these others made offerings they’ll never miss; she gave extravagantly what she couldn’t afford—she gave her all!”

I am often guilty of feeling sorry for myself, moping around thinking about all that I don’t have. But never in my life have I been down to my last two cents—and God gets the credit for that! And if I’m being honest, My prayer today is that if I was down to my last two cents, I would find the faith to give ‘my all.’

Testing God - Nosey By Nature

I wish I didn’t know as much about breakdowns as I do. But the many and varied positions that I have filled on the track brought me in contact with them over and over.

Working on the backside with the horses during the 80s and 90s, it became more and more common during the races to see the ‘meat wagon’ headed over to pick up a DNF (Did Not Finish) on the day’s card. Sometimes the animal came off the trailer lame; others were winched off dead and left in the area designated for carcass removal.

Back in the day, cheaper tracks were where you would find the majority of breakdowns. That was because the horses with the majority of the problems could be found running on the ‘bottom,’ at the lower claiming levels.

One of my earlier jobs on the ‘frontside’ of the track was in the press box, high atop the grandstand. My task was operating the section of the tote board that posts changes, results and congratulations to the connections of the winning horses. Eventually, I joined the PR department and my duties were expanded to include writing the feature race wrap-up every day.

This birds’ eye perch also housed the chart callers and writers from Equibase and the Daily Racing Form, the track announcer, the photo finish guy and the stewards, who officiated over all races.

Nosey as I am, I loved working in this racetrack nerve center. With radios that could be tuned to the frequencies of everyone from the track maintenance crew to the ambulance drivers, we were among the first to know everything. I could even keep an eye on Jerry (with binoculars) who was at that time training horses in the morning and working on the starting gate during the races.

It was up to the stewards to keep track of riding infractions during a race, and dole out punishments if the jockeys’ actions warranted them. They are the high court of racing, and anyone that holds a racing license in their jurisdiction is must answer to them.

When a problem arose in a race, the guys down in the video room were contacted to queue up the race in question while the stewards deliberated. It would play over and over, from a variety of angles—side view, head-on, slow-mo. And so it was when there was a breakdown.

Daily Notes: I am really, really struggling with telling this story—perhaps that is evident as it has greatly slowed down my blogging. The happy, funny stuff comes easily, but watching this video back in the interest of giving an accurate description has been difficult.

As far as tithing goes, I am happy to report that ‘mind over money’ has taken place. Before I started this test, I think I was of the mindset that when I tithed, I was somehow doing something noble. I was giving away something of mine, and therefore should be commended. I felt pretty proud of myself when I put a check in the collection plate, as if I had really done something for God. (Hey, just for grins, check out the number of times I said “I” in this paragraph!)

But the interesting thing is, once I finally wrapped my noggin around the idea that 10% (at least!) of “my” money doesn’t even belong to me, my whole attitude when I drop that check in the plate has changed.

I take that money off the top, and find myself wishing it could be much more. Right now, it would seem that that will need to remain a wish. And that’s where the devil, and Rich Toward God’s number 4 and 5 reasons for a delayed harvest come in:

Motivation—The rich fool is proof enough of this reason. We must always see financial blessing as an additional way to grow in giving, too.

This one is no problem for me. As I stated above, I am motivated!

Satan—I know some of you reading this right now are definitely in this situation. You are following God, faithful to him in every way that you can be, but are still facing hardship. Who do you think might be trying to stop you? Obviously, when you take steps of faith in any area, the enemy will oppose you. The more you do right, the more he will want to derail you. So, stay on your guard and take your stand. Four times in Ephesians 6: 11-14, we are told that when the day of evil arrives, we are to stand—stand against the devil’s schemes, stand our ground, and after everything else is done to stand, and to stand firm. Do you think the Lord is trying to get a crucial message across? Don’t back up. Don’t give in. Stand. The Lord will provide the grace and power for victory.

Hee hee. Yup. This is where I am right now. Bathroom gutted. Fence in need of repair. Car needs tires, and the crap truck has developed an oil leak. I guess at close to 300,000 miles, that's not so unual. Porch roof has developed an odd leak, too. And the bills, oy vey! Oh, yeah. Tax time. I’m not belly-aching, though. My problems remind me of a current country song—Sounds Like Life To Me. To be honest, my problems are so small compared to those of others, but as Dr. Hood points out, this is what is to be expected when you take steps towards God.

So the obvious question from those readers who are not Christians would be “why in the world would anyone do this?”

I think it is equally obvious to the Christian readers that taking these steps is a no-brainer. Having faith that if God has “brought us to it, he’ll bring us through it,” our prayer is that God’s will be done. Because throughout this testing, we’re getting stronger and stronger in our faith. Just ask Job.

This back in the day pic is of one of our grooms, John Sullivan, just after Jerry and I were married. He's pictured here with Smokey, our beautiful paint stable pony.

Testing God - The Breaking Point

The stacks of papers covering the island in my kitchen produced conflicting emotions. I desperately wanted to see justice done for all the horses that had suffered and died because they were pushed beyond what their fragile bodies could take. But I also hated to provide one more nail in the coffin of a dying sport that I still, inexplicably, loved.

The sport of horse racing, even conducted under the best of conditions, is inherently dangerous. Breakdowns happen even under optimal conditions. Horses take bad steps and not all breakdowns are sinister—they’re just, well, accidents.

But knowing what I now knew, I was heartsick. And the really f*ed up part was that it was the animals who loved to compete—loved their jobs and ran for the sheer joy of running—that were at the greatest risk. Because they wanted to run, owners and trainers would take advantage of that and, as we say, 'run them into the ground.'

It would be like taking a Formula One race car, loosening all the lug nuts and sending it onto the track to compete. Sooner or later, at high speeds, wheels are going to fly off and a crash will take place. Can you really call that an accident?

I had the feeling that buried in this paper trail was a very convincing argument that a horse that never should have been on the track that cold night in February caused the death of its rider and serious injury to another.

For close to 10 years, ReRun as an organization had been doing all we could to convince the Thoroughbred industry that changes needed to be made. Response to our pleas was varied: We were told by some that there was no problem. We were told by others to keep our noses out of it. We were told by still others that, since we were a non-profit that needed funding from the Thoroughbred industry to survive, to speak of such things was ‘biting the hand that feeds us.’

Eying the video tape that came in the reporter’s shipment, I debated whether or not to watch it. I knew the carnage that it would contain; I had seen similar scenes played out on the TV screen many times over the years.

Finally, in the interest of giving the reporter the best ammo I could, I popped the tape into the VCR.

Daily Notes: I guess many of you thought I had indeed thrown in the towel since it’s been several days since I’ve posted anything. It has just been a wild and crazy week and with springtime close at hand, things may only get worse. But I have resolved to muddle through this commitment as best I can.

I am happy to report that I have remained on track with my tithing, so no worries there. And we (Jerry and I) have been able to accomplish some RAKs over the past week, which has lifted our winter-weary spirits quite a bit.

But the devil’s been busy, too, and since my attitude about money is becoming less of a problem, he’s had to become more imaginative to get under my skin.

Many of you know that we have a flock of free range chickens. Since there are lots more eggs than we can use, we sell the overflow to individuals and area restaurants.

Over the weekend as I was writing this blog, my husband was in the kitchen making French toast for breakfast. On the counter was an egg that had a funny look to it, and so was set aside from the eggs packaged for sale. Generally, if an egg is oddly shaped or too small, we use it ourselves or mix it in the dogs’ dinner. Waste not, want not, I always say!

Jerry had no sooner tapped the shell to break it open when I heard what sounded like a small explosion. Running toward the kitchen, I was stopped in my tracks by the most noxious odor I have ever smelled. Just so you get the idea, it smelled like a dirty diaper, vomit and a dead thing all rolled into one. To make matters worse, there stood Jerry, putrid green goo dripping from his hair, nose and hands and covering his shirt. If that wasn’t bad enough, the cupboards, kitchen window, curtains, stove and rack of wine glasses had also been splattered. The floor had its fair share as well.

I realize now that to call someone a ‘bad egg’ is indeed an insult of the worst kind. And on a day when I was already chasing my tail, I was forced to drop everything and clean my kitchen top to bottom.

The odor would gag a maggot, and even after I had cleaned everything with soapy water and bleach, the smell still lingered faintly. Jerry thought I had gone crazy—I sniffed absolutely everywhere but could not find where the persistent odor was hiding. Jerry said he couldn’t smell it anymore, as did one of our clients. Jerry has no sense of smell, and I was afraid the client was just being nice. I’m sure the devil was having a good chuckle.

And, back to Rich Toward God and reason number 3 that our “havest” may be delayed when we get serious about tithing.

Maturity—How prepared are you to manage a financial increase? For many people, expenses rise along with income so, if you’re not ready, you might be in the same situation again really soon. If you are not prepared, greed can reemerge as an adversary. The Lord may be allowing you to fell the financial pinch so that you will never forget the valuable lessons of having to get by on less.

Yup, I can certainly see the value in this lesson. And it seems that in today’s economy, the ‘new normal’ had people re-learning lessons that perhaps their parents, way back in the day tried to instill in them.

Another back in the day pic--this one may have been taken by our good friend John Engelhardt at River Downs. This is Champagne Casey (bred by John E.) who won many races for us and in fact helped to buy the farm where we now live. She's an old curmudgeon-y lady now, bossing everyone else around the field.