[After two successful trips to Parx as a fan, Stephanie Weaver has made her way 'round backside to see what it's like as a participant in the wonderful world of horse racing.]
I don’t think I’ve been up and out of bed before 8 a.m. on a Saturday since I was seven-years-old... and still thought babies came from a magical field in North Dakota. Yet, here I was, ankle deep in mud and surrounded by feisty horses and men who came up to my navel at 7:30 on a Saturday morning.
Shane Learn (pictured), an assistant trainer who I had met the previous week, had invited me back to Parx Casino and Racetrack for a behind-the-scenes experience.
“Our day usually starts at about 4:30 a.m.,” said Shane. “We train in the morning because all of the racing happens in the afternoon. Plus, horses don’t like hot weather and do better in the early morning when it’s still cool.”
After parking my car and signing in at the security desk, I followed Shane down to the stables. There are 36 barns on the Parx Casino property, each holding about 44 horses. That’s a lot of hungry mouths to feed in the morning and a lot of legs to potentially be kicked by.
As we entered the barn, Shane beckoned for me to stay to my inside. If for some reason they have the urge to kick, race horses are taught to kick to the outside, so for safety purposes, we had to stay close to the stalls. Even though most of the world was still asleep, the action at Parx was in full swing. Grooms walked horses that were fresh off the track to the bathing area, their broad backs steaming in the summer sun.
“My typical morning starts off with checking the training chart to see who is training and at what time,” Shane explained. “We then ride and take lunch around 10 a.m. because our day starts earlier than others. From 5 a.m. to 10 a.m. I have solid, non-stop work, but nothing too strenuous.” As Shane got ready to exercise his first horse of the morning, a bay colt named Sortano who has won two races at Parx, I headed down to the track. It was a surreal experience being the only one down there. The only thing I could hear was the steady, clip-clop clip-clop of hooves on concrete ringing through the early morning fog.
Within five minutes, however, the track was packed with action. Horse after horse was walked to the starting gate, released, and galloped down the back stretch, sometimes even two at a time. I saw Shane ride Sortano at a lazy lope down the track. The horse was obviously elated to be out of his stall and moving. His thick nostrils were fully dilated and he had his ebony tail raised like a victory flag.
Out of nowhere, a commotion started down on the other side of the track. I quickly looked up and saw red lights flashing and a man lying on his back in the middle of the track. Further down, I noticed a frenzied horse bolting out the exit and making a sharp turn toward the stables. “This happens every so often,” the man standing next to be commented.
“A jockey will fall and the horse will take off back to its stall. It knows where it lives and wants more breakfast. But we turn those red lights on around the track as a precaution.”
Sure enough, both horse and rider were fine. The loose horse, a spirited colt, had found his way back to the barn on his own accord. After he was done racing, Shane met me back at the sideline. He had another horse training that morning and wanted to get a time on him. “I’m breezing him five furlongs today,” Shane said, “And “I’m hoping he does it in one minute two seconds.”
Out of nowhere a grey blur whizzed by us. Shane looked down at his watch and then back up at the horse. Several seconds later, he turned to me and grinned, showing me the final time. “One minute three seconds. Not what I had hoped for, but close enough.” We made our way back to the barn. The sun had finally taken its place in the sky and the heat was setting in.
“After we run the horses, we hose them down,” Shane said. “After they’ve cooled and caught their breath, we bathe them. We do the same with our horses in training as athletes in training do. They drink about 10 to 12 gallons of water a day. We get the horses all out of sales and try to find the best pedigree for the best price. They can cost anywhere from $1,000 to $2 million.”
Shane and I shook hands and I headed to my car. As I was pulling away from the track, I couldn’t help but feel privileged that I had gotten this experience. I was also looking forward to going back to bed until 5pm.
