Hello everyone,

It’s been an amazing few days down here at the Rio 2016 Olympic Games. Eventing’s just wrapped up, which Michael Jung simultaneously both predictably and incredibly won—on the same horse he rode last time he won individual Olympic gold. I’d ask my editors if we can run the 2012 story in the magazine so Lindsay and I can get a bit of much-needed rest, but I’m picturing an icy stare.

When I was first asked by my editors if I wanted to cover the Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, I’ll admit I asked for 24 hours to think about it.

Most people would jump at the chance to go to an Olympics, but like most people, the things I’d heard through the mainstream media worried me—Zika, dirty water and crime.

But once I thought about it, I realized I’d better not pass up the opportunity. Besides, my co-worker Mollie Bailey has lived in the city, knows the language and has experienced several international championships, so that eased my mind a little.

It sounds corny, but I firmly believe this: Riding is a gift, and I will never turn down the opportunity. I’ll get on just about any horse you tell me to.

I was in Orlando, Fla., for the American Horse Publications annual seminar when AHP hosted a welcome event in nearby Clermont at Al-Marah Arabians, the oldest privately owned Arabian horse farm in the world that put on the former Orlando attraction Arabian Nights.

Are you among the zillions snowed in this weekend? After you get back in from trying to push a wheelbarrow through thigh-high drifts, bring that stack of old bridles that needs cleaning inside and knock it off while you watch some of the Chronicle staff’s all-time favorite video clips.  

Triple Crown Triumph
No matter how many times you see it, American Pharoah’s Belmont run will give you chills. Editorial staffer Jennifer Calder and editorial production manager Lauren Foley were both there, and both count this as among their favorite clips.

On a cool January morning in 2006, assistant trainer Peter Brette led me down the shed row of Michael Matz’s barn at Palm Meadows Training Center (Fla.) and introduced me to every horse.

There were stakes-caliber mares, reliable allowance horses and unraced, unproven colts and fillies full of endless promise.

And then there was Barbaro—well, before he was the Barbaro we know and remember today.