Michael McCarthy, 39, stands 5-9 1/2 and weighs just 112 pounds, an unreasonable combination that he made work for 21 years, the last seven of which were spent as the best rider there is at Delaware Park. He was never comfortable explaining how he fit his square peg of a body into the round hole that is his profession, but now we knows the answer. He couldn't ... at least not any longer.

Delaware Park closed Sunday, which was McCarthy's last day as a jockey. A day later, he began a second career as a trainer. A class act, he went out with some extraordinary numbers and accomplishments, like 2,900-plus winners and six riding titles at Delaware Park and recognition in 1997 as athlete of the year in the state of Delaware. But that's not what made McCarthy different as a rider, even special. It was how he did the impossible with his body and why he did it -- because he was driven to succeed as a jockey.

"I just did what I had to do," he said. "I like riding horses and I was able to get paid to do it. It was a no-brainer. I didn't eat. I went in the steam room. It didn't matter.Whatever it took for me to get there and ride, that's what I did. That's what kept me going. I just focused on getting on that horse and not all that other stuff."

That's his answer. To an outsider, it's unimaginable what he must have put himself through. He was nothing but some flesh covering some bones, a skeletal image in jockey silks. The only way he could have done it was to have starved himself. McCarthy was never known to do those foolish things that jockeys do to keep their weight down, like flipping or popping Lasix pills.

When he first came around, nobody thought he could keep it up or succeed. Wouldn't he be too weak? How could such a lanky body could squeeze itself into a saddle and be able to work in congruity with a horse? For much of his career, McCarthy struggled to shrug off those predjudices. For years, he was nothing better than a middle-of-the-pack rider at Finger Lakes. He got his break when he moved to Philly Park in the early 90's, where a couple of top trainers gave him a chance and he responded with riding titles in 1994 and 1995. He shifted to Delaware once the slot machines helped fatten up the purses and, including this year's title, will have won six of the last seven riding crowns there.

McCarthy made plenty of money and proved beyond a doubt that he could ride. He showed no signs of slowing down and could have likely dominated Delaware for years to come. But 21 years of pushing himself and starving himself finally took its toll. He decided it just wasn't worth it anymore. There are a couple of reasons why he retired, but none more important than the weight issue.

"I'm a very health conscious kind of guy," he said. "I want to start working out now and putting on some muscle. I did a lot of ducking and diving every time I saw a mirror."

McCarthy knows it won't be easy to make it as a trainer, but he has set some very large goals for himself. Being on top at Delaware is not nearly enough to get mounts in the Triple Crown or Breeders' Cup races, and that frustrated him. As a trainer, he'll have a second chance to succeed at a level that was unattainable to him as a jockey.

"I'd really like to win a Kentucky Derby," said McCarthy, who will send his stable to Florida this winter before coming back to Delaware. "A lot of times when you're a jockey it's political. You have to ride for the big stables, like Wayne Lukas and Bob Baffert, the guys who consistently get the young, quality horses. You have to be in that realm and you have to go to New York, you have to go to Saratoga, Florida and Keeneland. I thought raising a family and staying in one place was more important than doing that. As a trainer, nobody can hold me back. It's all up to me."

His last mount was supposed to have been in Sunday's ninth at Delaware aboard a horse named Run to Victory, but the day ended after only three races due to bad weather. So McCarthy went out a little earlier than planned on a horse named, appropriately enough, End All, who finished third in the final event of that abbreviated card.

McCarthy hopes that his future will be a bit more simple and a bit less hectic. He wants to find a way to spend some more time with his family. And he's going do something he hasn't done for an awful long time -- eat like any other healthy human being.

"I want to have a chest and a butt," he said. "I want to look normal.