Lessons Learned from Eight Belles

It's been 30 years since I saw "The Run for the Roses" for the first time in person. Affirmed was the winner and went on to win The Triple Crown, an honor no other horse has earned since then. A college friend (and fellow SV Mom blogger -- you know who your are...) hopped a ride with two random guys what had advertised for riders in the student center via one of those posters where you tear off the phone number at the bottom of the page. We'd met some boys from Louisville in Daytona Beach during spring break and went off on a road trip adventure to see them again. As it turns out I'd see one of them again a lot as I eventually married him.

Anyway, I digress. Marrying the boy from Louisville meant moving there and more than a decade of Derby Days. It's a great time. The playing of "My Old Kentucky Home" still makes me verklempt. I have many fond memories and saw dozens of thoroughbreds run for the roses, including two fillies -- Genuine Risk and Winning Colors.

I always put my money on the girls because very few get Derby bids. This year was no exception. I had a bet on Eight Belles, a gray filly running in her first race against the boys. Now I could take this opportunity to make all sorts of political comparisons and metaphors about this Presidential election and the candidates but I won't. My mind is on Eight Belles and the triumphant and tragic end to her life.

She gave the boys a run for their money (no pun intended). She ran her heart out. She ran for first but barely missed, coming in second but when her jockey tried to turn her for her victory trot to the Winner's Circle she went down. She had run so hard she broke both of her ankles. There's even speculation that they were starting to split apart during the race but she never slowed her stride. She ran until one of her bones actually broke through her skin. Writhing on the ground in pain she kept trying to get up but she literally didn't have a leg to stand on. Her injuries were such that she could never be treated or healed so they euthanized her on the spot. She never made her victory lap. She never got the ovation from the spectators. Her dead body was hauled off the track in a truck while the winner's posse was celebrating their win (albeit with a heavy heart). I get teared up just thinking about it.

I realize that she was a horse. She doesn't have human thoughts but somehow I'd like to think she knew she was running on behalf of the girls. That she fought the pain and forged onward. That even with legs incapable of holding her up she kept trying to stand, to get the recognition she deserved. Eight Belles makes me think of the strong women who paved the way for our rights; the women I've known who were taken down in the prime of their life and moms who push on in pain without getting the proper credit.

That's a lot to get from the "fastest two minutes in sports." Rest in Peace Eight Belles.

An original post to 50-Something Moms Blog.