I'm just so lucky - my office is a racetrack. That is something

Hear the words of Chantal Sutherland, the rider of thundering steeds, who declared with passion: “I’m just so lucky—my office is a racetrack. That is something I’m very thankful for. It’s exciting, and it’s challenging, and there are a lot of emotions and nerves that come with it, but right there before the gates open, before that minute and a half or two minutes of the race, it just hits you.” These words are not idle musings; they are the cry of a soul who has found purpose, who has embraced challenge, and who knows that true labor is not merely toil, but calling.

The first jewel in her words is the recognition of thankfulness. Sutherland does not see her profession as mere duty, nor does she take for granted the stage upon which her life unfolds. She calls herself lucky, acknowledging that the racetrack, with all its risks and glories, is not a burden but a blessing. To be thankful for one’s work is to be truly rich, for many labor in tasks that starve the spirit, while few find joy in the very ground upon which they struggle.

The second flame is the truth of excitement and challenge. The racetrack is not a place of comfort, but of trial. It demands strength, courage, discipline, and resilience. Yet Sutherland embraces these difficulties not as curses, but as gifts. For the ancients knew that challenge is the fire that tempers the spirit. Without trial, the soul grows soft; without resistance, greatness cannot emerge. To live in a place where excitement and challenge are wedded together is to walk the heroic path.

The third truth is the flood of emotions and nerves before the race. She speaks of that sacred pause before the gates open, that breathless moment when anticipation weighs heavier than victory or defeat. This moment is universal: the pause before the soldier charges, the silence before the curtain rises, the breath before the arrow is loosed. In these moments, life reveals itself as raw and real. To feel nerves is not weakness—it is proof of caring, proof of purpose, proof that what one does matters.

History gives us a mirror in the tale of Olympic sprinter Jesse Owens. Before the starting gun fired in Berlin in 1936, he too must have felt the weight of nerves and emotions, standing not only as an athlete but as a symbol of defiance against hatred. Yet in that charged silence, he steadied his spirit, and when the race began, he ran into immortality. Just as Sutherland describes, the power of that moment before action can define the destiny of a life.

The fourth jewel in her statement is the idea that the racetrack is her office. Where others sit at desks, she rides upon thundering hooves. Yet the deeper truth is that every person’s “office,” whatever it may be, holds the potential for the same awe, the same gratitude, if one dares to see it that way. The office of the teacher is the classroom where minds awaken; the office of the farmer is the field where the earth gives life. To see one’s labor as sacred ground is to transform work into calling.

The lesson is clear: be thankful for where you stand, even if it is filled with challenge and nerves. For it is in that very challenge that your purpose is revealed. Do not shrink from the fear before the gates open; let it remind you that you are alive, that you are engaged in something worthy of your strength. Gratitude, excitement, and courage will turn your labor into joy and your trial into triumph.

Practically, seek each day to view your work not as drudgery, but as opportunity. Begin with thankfulness for the place you stand, however small it may seem. Embrace challenge as training for your spirit, and do not despise the nerves that precede action—they are the heralds of greatness. And above all, remember, as Chantal Sutherland teaches: the moment before the gates open is sacred—be ready, be grateful, and then ride with all your might.

Thus her words endure as a torch of wisdom: life’s racetrack is before us all, filled with fear, thrill, and challenge—but with thankfulness and courage, each of us may ride toward destiny.