Horse racing Sunday

Very young horses are competing today. They are only two or three years old. Their first race.
Their inexperience is obvious. Their nerves are skin deep.
I’m standing very close to the start boxes and I feel the contagious nervousness.
My attention is completely fixed to the animals. I don’t care about the joyful families around me. I don’t even notice the extravagant hut show passing by.
I’m deeply impressed by the well-muscled four legged majesties.

The young horses run in circles with jerky movements behind the start. They keep kicking back and forth till they are forced into their narrow start boxes.
Only the experienced jockeys keep dominating the struggling strength of the youngsters.
At the very instant the last of the animals is caged I hear the dull sound of the starter’s gun.
The boxes open their metal doors loudly and the quadrupeds sprint onto the racetrack.
The sight of the movement lightness and at the same time the massive horsepower makes me instantly get gooseflesh.
I am astonished over and over.

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