The 46 horses presented were all excepted by the ground jury, but a last-minute injury forced the withdrawal of Emily Beshear’s Here’s To You.

I wish I could be one of those super-chic travelers I always see in photos on Pinterest.

I try. I pack light. I wear black. I bring a scarf that I endeavor to wrap in an effortless-looking (but in fact highly labor intensive) way. I avoid velour sweatpants with slogans plastered across the bum at all costs. I try not to loll about in the seats at the gate, limbs akimbo and feet propped on tables that are meant for people’s food.

I’d gotten a lot of beyond-belief emails in my tenure at the Chronicle, but this was a first.

The craziest emails always seem to come on Monday mornings. Most of us try to stay up-to-date with our work correspondence over the weekends, so it’s not a matter of weird messages piling up over a few days off. By a strange twist of fate, they all just seem to flood in on Monday mornings of their own accord.

Every time I get in a rental car or board an airplane to travel to a competition for the Chronicle, I get a thrill thinking about the endless possibilities at the upcoming event. Each show is a little different and presents new opportunities to learn, meet people in the industry and connect with our readers.

The electronic jingle of my ringtone sounded. As I glanced down at the phone, I saw a number with the 561 area code of Wellington, Fla., flashing.

My heart stopped for just a second, and the sweat glands in my hands started working overtime. I knew the number. It was one I have memorized but refuse to program into my phone. I don’t ever want to accidentally dial it. Ever. It was George Morris’ phone number.

I frantically put my turn signal on and started looking for a safe place to pull off the road and take the call.