Learned helplessness: A technical term in animal psychology and related human psychology, means a condition of a human person or an animal in which it has learned to behave helplessly, even when the opportunity is restored for it to help itself by avoiding an unpleasant or harmful circumstance to which it has been subjected. Learned helplessness theory is the view that clinical depression and related mental illnesses may result from a perceived absence of control over the outcome of a situation.
It has been quite some time since a real race update, considering the last two rounds consisted of a rain-out and a crash on the second lap of the first race. As a result, going into this race felt as though it was the beginning of season. I haven't ridden in quite some time, and started the fall semester the same week as this race. With a lot of the things going on in my life, my brain seemed to run out of capacity for acknowledging a race weekend was even upon us.
Leading up to this round, I had a few things which were of concern to me. First, we are at Thunderhill. Thunderhill is a fast, wide open track that rewards those with more umph in the motor department, not to mention the willingness to go into a turn with a lot of speed (or just the ignorance of consequences). My bike is down on power even within its own class, let alone when competing up a class. My 93 horsepower doesn't fare well against 130 horsepower 600cc bikes nor the 180 horsepower 1000cc guys. I also having this nagging problem of thinking about the fact that I have a lot on the line, and a high speed wreck could really ruin my work and school progress.
Turn 1 at speed, making some passes underneath. I am the first to come into the screen from the left.
Secondly, the fixes I made to the bike after the wreck had not been tested. The bike wasn't really set up at all. I wasn't even sure if the levers were in the right spot or if the front end was twisted up. I was really going out on a limb that my visual inspection was correct, because I wasn't going to get much of a chance to get it dialed in otherwise.
Saturday practice was typical, me going slow and bitching about everything under the sun. Nothing seemed right. I had to play around with my front end a bit because it seemed "off". But after tearing it down and making sure everything was balanced and straight, I was only now sure it was just me.
Third practice came and discovered that not only was my rear tire finished but my front had expired. I knew before the day started that it would not last until the races (certainly not through three races in a row) and would need to be changed prior. However, when I went to change my tires I came to find their was some sort of miscommunication earlier and there was none of my front tire available. So I was forced to run a tire design which I was not familiar, for which did not have the suspension/geometry set-up, and didn't particularly want to run. I was only able to get a half a practice in with a tire which was not able to get on the warmers in time. Dave Moss and I discussed what I felt and what presuppositions we have about the affected behavior would be at speed and came to a "best guess" suspension set up with the new front/rear combo.
When first call for middleweight came across the P.A. system, I was filled with butterflies and doubt. I come to the grid on the 5th spot and remind myself that I must run hard to get at least a top five. I reminded myself I must carry a lot of speed into corners and not leave the door open for the power bikes. Green flag drops and I get a Sunday driver start. I get up to speed and am fortunate to have the inside position going into turn 1. However, some other participants don't understand how physics work and believe more than one object can occupy the same space simultaneously. On the start, Nicholas Altamura pulls up to my right side as we get up to speed, pacing down the straight. Just then, some one else came in on the left of me, leaving me mere inches of room on either side. The three of us barrel down the striaght and I am simply victim to whatever fate they determine for me. Suddendly, Nicholas leans left into me and hits my brake lever, causing my front end to wobble in displeasure. This of course lead to a slowing of my bike and Nicholas swinging back around in front of me going into turn 1. After regaining control of my bike, I found myself lacking the momentum needed going into turn 2.
This incident left me far back in the field, forcing me to work my way through traffic. I had to at one point during the race take my left hand off the bar while going down the back straight at full speed and bang on my lever on the right side of the bike so I can use my brake properly again. Once I did this, I was able to start chopping away at others in the turns, just to be pulled on during the straights. When the white flag came out, I had been whittling away at the lead #934, Genki Hagata, had pulled on me at the start. Had I had two more laps I could have had him, but I had to settle for my worst finish ( besides the DNF last round ) at 8th place with a sluggish 2:00.771.
When the chequer came out on the MW race I rushed back to the hot pits to fuel up and grab a sip of water before hitting the grid for the first Formula 1 race. I was very fortunate to have Quinton Jones #415 and Brad Gyger #630 help out in the pits, as my girlfriend couldn't help me put the bike on a stand or lift the fuel jug with her broken hand.
I rushed back out to the grid, rolled up just in time and went at it again. I had another slow start and got swallowed up in the first and second turn. Fortunately, I was already in race mode and ran a quick ( for me ) opening lap. I found myself getting caught up behind others however, because I would be able to carry more speed through the turns but during the exit would lose position to the faster bikes and be stuck behind again until the next turn. After I cleared a few of the people I needed to get around, I was in open land and figured I would be able to click off a fast lap. Just then, a familiar rival, #626 Gabrial Limon, ran his Ducati 848 up the hill from turn 8 to 9 and got in front of me. The next few laps consisted of me showing him a wheel in the turns and exits, only to be outran. On the final lap I tried a move which had been working well for me all day, the entry pass on the brakes at turn 14. I went in at a speed which would enable me to pass and hold speed (hopefully enough for a run to the line) but Gabrial turned in slightly earlier than he had prior, and I had to sit up and load the brakes to just miss t-boning him my a foot or two. I was able to reel it back in and come in behind him. I am glad I didn't wreck, but I am mostly glad I didn't hit Gabrial. I finished 3rd for the novices and 16th overall.
Once again, I rushed back to the pit for fuel and fluid. This race was the heavyweights. I was having to go up against 1000cc and larger bikes who could simply turn the throttle and disappear. I felt a little worn but still in ok shape. I wasn't so much tired as I was mentally worn and frustrated with my riding. This race grid formed a lot faster than the last and I almost missed the start, literally 2 seconds more and I would have missed the race!
My start was better than my last two, but the short straight between 1 and 2 served as a catalyst for the big bikes to fly by. I found myself behind a few familiar faces, such as Charles Finch #953 on his R1 and Peter Fry #952, also on an R1. I was able to make some moves on the brakes and on the dirty areas on the outside of some turns. I quickly saw the front pack take off and knew this was going to be interesting. The thing with heavyweight versus middleweight is when I am stuck behind someone in HW which I am faster than in the turns, when the big bike opens it up on the exit they get going quick enough where they don't get in my way at the exit point. Whereas, a 750cc or 600cc bike which is more powerful than me is not as powerful as the 1000cc, and as such the difference occurs later in the exit and sometimes it can lead to me having to back off a little to prevent us coming together. However, when I go by a 1000cc, they come back in the straight with a vengeance and blow my doors off. By the end of this squabble, I was able to pull a 5th place out of the ordeal.
After coming in from this race I was surprised how well I felt after three races in a row in the hot temperature. Yes, had I gone faster I likely would be more tired, but I felt I could have ran 4 or 5 in a row. So while I was upset with my lap time performance, I was happy with my mental and physical endurance.
Sunday began with and incident which summarized the entire weekend in my mind.
600 superbike was up first. I was gridded 20th - fifth row, right next to the wall. When the green flag dropped I was happy with my start, it felt much better than my others had the day before. I kept a good pace with the bike to my left side on the grid giving no ground to the bike with the fancy paint job (I think #287 Cole Crowley). I planned on staying outside, away from the chaos, and try to keep my speed up around turns 1 and 2 to put me in a position for 3. All of a sudden from my left side a bike barreled in between Cole and myself, directly into my side breaking my clutch lever and bending the remaining bit of lever into the sky. My bike's bars slapped back and forth against the gas tank and started going right at the wall. The first thing that came to my mind was the big wreck a year ago where a fellow racer broke his back from the exact same thing. I thought for sure I was a goner.
On-board video of the 600 superbike race: http://contour.com/stories/afm-r6-thunderhill-aug2728-600-superbike (advance to 6:45 for the beginning of the race)
I fell to the back of a huge grid and for the first lap had to up shift and down shift without a clutch lever. When I finally made it to the front straight, everyone in the stands said they saw me beating on the clutch lever trying to pound it back in place. As soon as could, I cleared my mind and did what I could to salvage another bad start. I finished 5th for the novices, 26th out of 41 overall.
I came in from the race, ripped off my gear and went over to find the guy who hit me. I went by his pit and could not find him. I was furious and determined to make this guy feel his life was threatened as much as mine was. On my way back from the unsuccessful venture, my girlfriend found me and told me that the other rider had come by to apologize when I went to find him. Her telling me this made me feel a lot better, the simple action of realizing and acknowledging one's own mistakes goes a long way in my book. Later my attacker came by during social hour at my pit area and we were able to work things out. Now I just need to go faster next time and beat him.
A few races later and my second formula 1 race was being called to the grid. I was gridded against the wall again in 16th place, and the fear of that damn start against the wall quickly entered my mind. With the way things have been going, I thought for sure I was going to be hit yet again.
My actual start was good, but at the end of the straight before turn one the Sadowski brothers came flying by along with a few others whose motors flung them into turn 1 before me. I found myself behind a few familiar bikes and began to plan a few things. Going into turn 5, I noticed Sam Richards #272 was two spots in front of me. I knew that if I can get around the guy in front of me, I can use Sam to try and cut a few seconds and get back on pace; as he and I are usually in the same ballpark of speed and riding style. Just then #756 George Myshlyayev flew by on the inside of 5 which made me sit it up and back off the throttle for a second. I knew I couldn't keep up with him, so I simply hoped I can keep up for a little and he would make a move on the inside of others and the passed riders would leave the door open for me to slide under them. Basically I wanted him to part the seas for me. George is just too damn fast though and took off right away. After picking off the people I could, I worked on trying to catch up with the pack in the distance; it was rather boring. Towards the end though, #626 Gabrial Limon once again makes the run on me up the hill from 8 to 9. I proceed to chase him down the best I can, and on the last turn of the race I come in hard like before, but avoid rushing his inside (wasn't going to push my luck on that one again) and hopefully be able to make something of the run out of 15. I do just that and leaving 15 I am up on his tail catching a draft. Gabrial looks over his left shoulder just as I am pulling out of the draft to his right and simply turns his right wrist and walks away from me, his 848 too much for me in the straight. I finished 4th of the novices, and 16th of 31 overall.
Formula 1 on-board: http://contour.com/stories/afm-r6-thunderhill-aug2728-formula-1 (race starts at 7:00)
The very last race on the schedule for the day is 750 superbike. This race was frankly quite boring. I started average, got passed in the beginning by the usual suspects and for the usual reasons. Sure enough Gabrial passed me going up the hill into 9 again. Then I worked my way back into chase mode. But, for the most part I ran on my own. I scored points and went home, just a boring race to finish the day - sorry. But I did finish 4th for the novices and 15th overall.
750 Superbike on-board: http://contour.com/stories/afm-r6-thunderhill-aug2728-750-superbike--2 (race starts at 7:00)
The Sunday following this weekend of Dan riding slow, I went and did a trackday at Thunderhill. I woke up early in morning and drove up for a day of retreat. My goal for the day was to simply get my feel back. I rode all day on a tire which was so trashed that I had to flip it backwards to have some meat on the left side for the second half of the day. Funny thing was, I ran quicker than any lap I ran during the race weekend!
It made me think about what happened during the race weekend. I kept making the same mistakes all day and never seemed to be able to not make the same mistake every lap; I froze mentally. Then I realized that the difference was in my perception of things; at the trackday I was just having fun and enjoying the ride. The races have started to feel like work and not play. When I first started racing, I simply went out, had fun and did my best. Now I seem to eliminate the feeling of fun the moment something doesn't go to plan. Yes, I am a competitive person and strive to do my best, but I must remember why I am doing this in the first place. I work around motorcycles all day, I need to remember that when i am racing I am not at the shop. I need to remember to smile and enjoy that I am doing something which only a small fraction of people can say they have done even once in their life. I need to realize plateaus and bad days happen, but not to let one bad day create another. The simple perception of racing as work has given me a case of learned helplessness. It is time to re-learn and bring the fun back.
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