Twenty-four hundred meters I would have to run. My feet landed on the silky ground as I strained forward, my stride lengthening with every second. Secretariat took a 'steady' lead ahead of me. I let out a soft angered whinny as I lunged forward, quickly approaching him. Secretariat flicked his tail as it flowed behind him and continued to speed up also. We ran, my nose almost touching his barrel as he continued to stay as head runner. My hooves cackled as they pounded on the dirt as I began to make up ground. Soon Secretariat and I were head and head into the turn. He settled back with just barely my head poking out into the lead. I continued to lengthen my stride as I began to pull away. Secretariat's breathe lingered on my flank before he began to edge up as we came into the home stretch for the first time. His hoof beats came nearer. Lillian urged me onwards, barely holding my reins back. I flew onwards, but Secretariat stuck right next to me like a leach. I shook my head angrily before coming back into focus and lowering my ears as I continued to edge onwards, the meters quickly being devoured by my hooves. Instead of dropping back, Secretariat continued to come closer to my neck and withers. I wanted to whirl on him and attack him to keep him from coming, but I knew that wasn't how you were supposed to race.
I rapidly switched lead legs as we headed into the turn without breaking stride. I suppressed my urge to look back and see where Sky Lark was. She had to be good to even dare to enter. She must be near us. While I was lost amongst my thought, Secretariat snuck up on the rail and took the lead again. I flicked my ears in silent response as I began to quicken my pace yet again. Lather built up on my chest like layers of a cake. Even though it was annoying, I couldn't just stop and head towards the bathing area. No, I had to win. I had to. I was made for this race, for crying out loud.
The thoughts sent me a wave of energy and I caught up to Secretariat again and we again began to bob heads until he began to pull away. I could feel my energy draining as we neared the mid-point of the back stretch. Secretariat continued to fly past the marks numbering the number of meters left to go. I galloped past the one reading 10 while he was in the middle, already ebbing up on the 9 hundred pole. I gasped in air, my lungs seeming to constrict myself. Secretariat flashed by number 8 as I came closer to him, straining to put up a last and final stand. I should've thought it through better because as soon as I began to get closer to him, I couldn't keep going. My legs were numb with tiredness, my nose was throbbing, and my organs were aching. But I had to keep trying at least. Maybe Secretariat wasn't in any better shape. I pressed myself onwards, Lillian sitting on my back like she was just there for the ride. Secretariat flashed into the turn. I followed two lengths behind, Secretariat continuing to make the difference bigger and bigger. Suddenly a whip landing on my hip startled me. I felt an awakening fire within me and I sped up, catching the Big Red. His jockey drove him and began to whip him, asking for everything he had. Lillian followed suit. I began to catch him at the 3 mark. Three hundred meters. Only about 17 seconds and I could make history! I lunged onwards, my mouth gaping open as I tried to get more oxygen.
Two hundred meters.… I watched the sign fly by as I continued to close the gap. I was catching the unbeatable horse of the century!
One hundred meters…. Suddenly things changed. Secretariat lunged forwards; his jockey whipping him like a nutcracker would bite at a walnut. I tried to catch up, but I felt like my heart wouldn't keep beating. I faded quickly at twenty five meters left to go, and before I knew it, I had lost by one and a half lengths by this Big Red.
Lillian was cursing, but I didn't know why. Well, I did. Sure, I had lost, but I didn't feel as angry with myself as I thought I would. Secretariat had been right when we met. He truly was the king, and all I could do as he trotted to the winner's circle was leave my mouth gaping in awe as Lillian pulled me roughly towards the exit of the track. I could hear Lillian and my owners and betters exchanged furious words and cussing through clenched teeth. They shouldn't. They shouldn't be mad at me or Secretariat, and they sure shouldn't have ever thought that a horse—even a genetically modified creature like me—could beat Secretariat.
A/N: I hope you have liked this story! Please review and comment about it, but please no flames. If you would like to comment on a thing that I could improve on in my writing, then please say so!
Secretariat is one of the best horses in history, and no horse in his time could ever beat him. Not even Criser, a genetically modified colt. It was because of Secretariat's enormous heart that he won many races and was such an outstanding runner. This story is, in part, dedicated to this incredible horse who could never be beaten. This story shows how Criser even lost.
Like I said, thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a review! :-)