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a day at the races

August 19, 2010

Yesterday, we checked an item off of my mom’s bucket list.

We went to the track.

Living in Saratoga and never going to the racetrack is like living in Orlando and never going to Disney World. It’s just something you have to do if you live here. There will be a test when you move and one of the questions will be “Did you go to the track during racing season?” and if you answer no they won’t let you leave until you go, so we figured we might as well cut to the chase and go.

But not without a stop for lunch first.

Remember when we talked about the Putnam Market? Not wanting to rattle off empty promises, I figured it was only right to stop there for lunch. Mom and I split a turkey wrap with cranberry mayo and cheddar which was promised on the menu to be a delightful luncheon experience. It was not an empty promise, either.

After that, it was off to the races.

We didn’t place any bets because we were too busy housing our lunch we were too invested in watching the races. Going to the track always makes me feel a little on the dumb side because I have no idea what all of the numbers mean. Math and I have never been friends, but in the context of odds and percentages and probability, we’re practically mortal enemies. Other than the fact that the first horse who crosses the finish line wins…I am clueless about all things racing.

I do know that I felt bad for the loser horses, though.

The dreaded walk of shame. Better luck next time, my friend.

I also felt bad for this guy, who got an unexpected shower as he was walking his loser horse back.

See him in the red shirt? Talk about unfortunate timing…

Another case of unfortunate timing was witnessed with this horse, who had to answer the call of nature (to the tune of about 18 gallons of bodily fluid) in front of hundreds of spectators and one rude photographer.

I know it’s poor form. But I couldn’t resist.

We walked the grounds for a bit to take in all of the sights (the $5 hot dogs, french fries, slices of pizza and $4 water bottles should have been documented as well…Saratoga, come on now…that’s just plain crazy), which were many:

And seriously…if this next series of photos doesn’t make you smile…you need to go call the Grinch and ask for advice on how he went about his extreme heart makeover…

After we’d had our fill of large hats and photo finishes we decided to take to the town and explore the wonder that is Saratoga.

And what a wonderful wonder it is.

We concluded our Capital Region adventure with a stop for ice cream.

Is there any better way to end a day? I think not.

Thanks Saratoga (and Mom!) for such a fun day. I’m glad you’re just a short trip down Route 50.

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