Here’s the secret that nobody tells you: the exact time doesn’t really matter. What matters is the shared drama. You’ll be standing in your kitchen, phone in hand, yelling at a horse named “Puddle Jumper” that is currently behind a fence, and your neighbor will text you the same thing. That connection is the real prize.
So, set an alarm for 5:00 PM to be safe. Put the kettle on. Grab a snack that’s not too crumbly—you don’t want to choke on a biscuit when the horses round the final bend. And remember: the race starts at 5:15 PM, but the memory of tripping over your own feet while celebrating a 50-to-1 shot will last forever. Good luck, you magnificent, anxious creature. You’ve got this.
