Who am I?

I am not much of anybody really, just a longtime racing fan who feels the need to speak out about issues facing the sport. I have no special credentials. I’m not a writer or a photographer or breeder, bloodstock agent, trainer, or jockey. I don’t pretend to be an expert on the sport, on horses, or on training methods, and I can’t promise to be eloquent, but I’ll try.

I am, however, a stereotypical horse-mad woman and have been ever since I can remember. I come by it honestly, having a long line of horse-mad women (and a few men) on both sides of my family. I played with toy horses as a kid instead of dolls. I ran around with my friends pretending to be part grand prix rider, part horse, jumping over courses made of sticks and brush and yard tools. When I was old enough, I took riding lessons and participated in a few hunter/jumper shows. I mucked stalls, groomed, fed, watered, cleaned the barns, worked as a pony camp counselor, and wrangled Shetlands at birthday parties to earn riding time. Alas, I have never had a horse of my own, but one of these days I will.

My love affair with horse racing began as a little girl, listening to my dad read C. W. Anderson’s stories to me about Man O’ War, Native Dancer, Stymie, and other greats of that bygone era. The name of this blog, Deep Through the Heart, comes from a phrase he commonly used, referring not only to a horse’s physical heart and lung capacity but also to something more intangible, its courage and determination, and yes, heart. To me, it speaks also of the deep emotional connection I and many fans have to the sport of kings and especially to its stars, the horses. They thrill us, run their hearts out for us, and break out hearts, too. I still remember the day my dad came home from work and told me that Swale had died. He was my first love.

These mighty Thoroughbreds give us their all, sometimes even their lives, and that’s why I’m writing this blog. Through bad luck, bad steps, and sometimes through avarice and bad judgment, some horses come to bad ends, on the track or in a slaughterhouse or through neglect. I am trying to raise awareness of problems in the racing industry, everything from doping to dangerous surfaces to poor breeding practices, in hopes of improving the sport and the quality of life for the horses that are part of it. This is something I have been toying with for some time, and the sad demise of Eight Belles in the Kentucky Derby last Saturday finally spurred me to action. Comments are encouraged, and please feel free to share this blog with your friends.