Page 139 - BornToRunFlipBook

of slowing.

“Cashmere, what are you doing?”

I asked.

But as if to answer my question,

his speed only quickened. I knew we

were going over the fence, or we

were turning, because he didn’t plan

to stop. And as we approached the

corner, he turned.

I was glad that I had prepared as

well as I had, because the quick turn

still almost unseated me. I figured I

would be killed if I fell from the

height of his back at the speed we

were going.

This was the first time he had not

stopped after one lap, and the mares

got excited. They started running as

if they were racing us. We caught

them and quickly passed them. As

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