For as long as I can remember, this week of the year has been spent betting on horses and watching the races. Every year since I was a BABY we have gone up to Saratoga in mid-August to spend the week gambling and drinking and laughing with an ever-growing group of our favorite people. It’s one of those things that we look forward to all year long, and continuously count down the days until. We live for this week in August and are crushed to not have been able to make it happen this year.

Let me say that I’m not necessarily sad to not be on vacation right this minute. It seems more like stress and anxiety than relaxation this year, and for those reasons I’m glad we’re mostly staying put for the summer. (I wasn’t named the covid-police for nothing…) But I’m mostly sad to have put one of our favorite traditions on hold. As something that’s been a part of my life for so many years, it breaks my heart to not be able to go! To be missing all of those days sitting around in our big circle of chairs, in the dirt (sounds romantic, doesn’t it!?) and sipping on endless Saratoga Sunrises seems like just another evil brought to us by 2020.

Over the last few years I’ve noticed that every year of our trip becomes just a little bit more special. The group grows and new people come in and fall in love with our little vacation tradition. New places are checked off the list and new memories are made in the old places. Some years we win big, and some years we lose (also big.) But every year that we’re all able to spend in our favorite place, feels like the biggest win of them all.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that the best part of traditions are the fact that you keep them going. You keep doing them even when it doesn’t feel like anything super special in the moment, because when you look back it’s always those things that mattered the most. Right now in all the uncertainty of the world and the year ahead of us, our history of Saratoga Summers feels more special than ever. And makes me all the more excited to jump right back into things as soon as we’re allowed to do so – with a whole newfound appreciation for our favorite week.

As these things do, the years eventually start to blur together and the summers become marked by the things we all remember the most; “so and so’s first year” or “the year with the tequila gun” or “the year mama bear showed up,” “that year we went to Lake George” “the year of the Smooth Daddy race” or “the year we didn’t get the deposit back.” They all become special in their own way. This will just have to be “that year we couldn’t go.”

Here’s to hoping next year is back to our regularly scheduled programming of summer at the SPA ❤️

MISSING ALL OF YOU SARATOGA PEOPLE EXTRA THIS WEEK!

Please enjoy just a few of the gems from “that year I harassed you all with my film camera.” There are plenty more where that came from.

with love, JAK