The Biscuit

Leave it to a fat guy to write about food, huh? Actually, I'm not talking about bread of the buttermilk variety, I'm talking about a horse. I've only run 3 races in my life, but part of my night before a race ritual involves watching the movie Seabiscuit. If you are not familiar with the story, I highly suggest reading the book before watching the movie. Both are really good, though. I usually end up re-reading the book each year about this same time. I've never been much of a horse racing guy, but every year I make it a point to watch all 3 Triple Crown races, and that in turn makes me want to read about horse racing. Both reading and watching racing really hypes me up to run. Besides the Seabiscuit book, I also have a good book about Secretariat. This was my first year making a wager on a race, and being a little unsure, I put $2 each on 3 horses, 2 to win and one to place. I had Barbaro as one of my win horses, so I made $14.20 on that $2 bet. $8.20 profit. Not quite ready to quit my day job yet.

The Seabiscuit story is one of those stories that would sound unbelievable if it wasn't true. The horse was unbelievably fast, but it wasn't just speed that made him so special. It was heart. One of the things he loved to do is toy with a horse, whether in a race or just in training. He would let a horse run beside him for a stretch before abusing them at the finish. When racing a horse with just as much talent as he had, if not more, like War Admiral, the jockeys made a point of letting the other horse catch Biscuit so he could see them while running side by side. When it came down to a battle of heart, they knew he wouldn't be beaten. He wasn't superhuman (superequestrian?) like a Secretariat, though. He was, by all accounts, a small, knock-kneed horse, that didn't really excite people just by his looks. He probably looked even worse to other horses, who got to see his tail more than his nose.

The whole point of this isn't a commercial for either the book or the movie. The point is that I can relate a little more to Seabiscuit than I do to Secretariat. I know it sounds funny to compare myself to a horse, and I'm sure that it is a real stretch to find any similarities. But I've always felt like I was all about heart. I've played sports in one form or another since I was probably 5. I've never been the biggest, or the strongest, or the fastest, but I've always been able to complete. I feel the reason for that is the fact that I am willing to work harder or at least as hard as anyone else. I wasn't a natural at hitting a baseball, so I had to take extra batting practice. I wasn't the fastest outfielder, so I had to take tons of fly balls until I could get a better jump to make up for the lack of speed.

Don't take this as bragging. Trust me, if I had my way, I would have preferred to be one of those guys with natural ability. It would have been nice to be out with a pretty girl instead of looking at Coach Reed's ugly mug on the other side of a pitching machine. Here is the problem, though. I don't know if I still have the heart to do it. Am I willing to put myself through the pain and sacrifice the marathon calls for? Can I give up the unhealthy practices that got me to this point in my life? I don't know. I would like to think so, but I'm starting to worry that I may be turning into Al Bundy telling the story about scoring 4 touchdowns in a high school football game.

I've lived my athletic life based on one main tenet. I've always said that if I am competeting against someone with equal physical abilities, they will quit before I do. That's my MO, that is how I win. I don't know how much that applies here, though, because I am not competing against any one person or a team. It is just me against myself until race day. I guess it will still just be me against myself on race day also. I just hope I don't make myself quit before then...