#tsrf2016

Thanks so much for participating in the Festival!

Oh, I’m so glad they made it there safe! :3

Congratulations! See y’all next November!

    The beach on race day is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I thought that it would be the same as the training days, but I couldn’t be more wrong. Overnight, the amount of tourists has doubled, and the islanders that avoided town during training have come out to see the race. Thicket dances on the end of the chain, his energy being fed by the crowd and the capail and the ever-present sea. The clouds are finally lifting from the morning rain, but the water hangs in the air and drives the capaill even more sea-mad than usual. If I ever had doubts that someone would die today, they’ve washed away.     “Ready?” My mother asks at my side.     “Yes,” I say, and swing up onto Thicket’s back. I look down at her, at my father, Dr. Maher, and Patricia behind her, and smile tightly. “I’ll see you after the race.”     “We love you,” my father says, and then I’m gone, guiding Thicket towards the starting line. I find my assigned spot, but circle Thicket in an easy circle as the other riders approach. I have no desire to crowd between the other capaill until I absolutely have to.     There’s this moment, when we’ve all gathered on the line but the race has yet to begin, where there’s nothing but me and Thicket. And then we’ve exploded off the starting line and are lost in the crowd of teeth and flashing legs. We settle in in the middle, close to the sea, but Thicket’s as competitive as I am, and his focus is on the other capaill. I can just catch a glimpse of a dark bay out in the front of the pack, but the rest of the capaill, save the dun to my right, are a jumble of brown and black and grey.     The dun snaps at Thicket, who snakes his head out at her in response. I urge him forward.  I didn’t want to push him too fast too soon, but getting in a fight is no way to win a race. The other rider is just as eager to avoid a confrontation, but the capall has other ideas, nipping at us again as we pull away. Thicket’s head swings back, but we’re out of range.     I can see the finish line now, marked by the tourists huddled around to see the end of the race. I loosen my reins, allowing Thicket to run. The bay that was leading is now nowhere to be seen, but there’s got to be at least ten capaill still between us and the finish. The magic of the capaill is humming through me, but the urge to follow Thicket into the sea is dampened by the adrenaline and focus on the race. I can feel him stretching out underneath me, straining to get ahead of the others, but it’s too late. The finish line sweeps by with us still firmly in the middle of the pack.     We slow, coming to a halt. I grin, and lean down to pat Thicket on the neck. When I entered the race, I thought it was about winning, but it’s more than that. We’ve survived the beach together, and just knowing I completed it is worth more than the prize money. I look back down the beach, and I can see my parents and the Mahers towards me. And in that moment, that’s all I need.

Being productive today!

[download]

Thank you to everyone who participated and breathed life into the Festival! I’ve got a fun little surprise for you, so stay tuned! :)