Losing Grip

“Some people see the glass half full. Others see it half empty.

I see a glass that's twice as big as it needs to be.”  - George Carlin

Pragmatic. That is how I approach my racing. I keep a realist view in order to keep a grip on the reality of my expectations, on my results, and my racing career. It gives me the ability to use goals as a point for which to aim, without being over-reaching. My pragmatism keeps me from freaking out when my practice times are 6-7 seconds slower than my race times, it reminds me of the reality that my practice times won’t meet my race times – because then, as logic dictates, I am going too slow in the races. It reminds that my tires have a limit of grip and I should ride to the limit or a little below, as opposed to letting passion over-step the limit and crash out. It reminds me to not try and brute the bike around like I would earlier in life during a football game. Being pragmatic allows me to firmly grip onto the big-picture concept of: enjoying what I am doing, doing the best of my abilities, racing my race, and letting the results fall as they may.

This last race weekend, I lost grip.

Saturday

Saturday was strange. I awoke early in the morning in my hotel room, but I wasn’t that tired. I walked out of the hotel room and to the truck without gripping onto a pile of books and my laptop. I had no stress, I had no school, I wasn’t struggling to grasp onto a schedule of how I would fit all I must accomplish outside of racing into my race weekend. This feeling was eerie.

I went out to my first practice and did my usual 3 lap warm-up. I generally have to come in after 3-4 laps because my hands are hurting from gripping the bars and levers. I am sure I am normally clenching my fists as sleep the night prior, having stress dreams and worries of my day to follow. But when I came in on Saturday, I came in out of habit and not out of soreness or the need to relax myself a little further. I felt slow, but I was moving fairly quickly. Normally my opening session I am running laps around 2:06 and fighting to push through a 2:03; but on Saturday, my first flying lap was a 2:03.4 followed by 2:01.1. I didn’t believe it when Georgia told me this in the pits; it felt like a 2:14 at best. My pragmatic voice kicked in and told me to get a grip, this is only practice and it is only a 2:01.

Second practice came and I didn’t feel rushed before heading out. I didn’t have anything to change on the bike nor to fix, this was strange. Normally on my second session, I will stay out the whole time and begin feeling out the bike for any suspension or tire pressure adjustments. But this time I came in after only three laps. It was almost like I didn’t even care about practice, I was just kind of “whatever” about it. I wasn’t upset or happy, I just was. I didn’t even remember opening my throttle to 100% one time; I simply went around checking-in with my apexes, just to pay them a visit and see how they are doing. So you could imagine my shock when Georgia yelled at me, “Good job, 1:58”. I was befuddled. What just happened? Did I really just run a 1:58? Did I really just run only .6 seconds slower than my record time? I checked my timer and confirmed it too be true. I tried to contain my excitement, but my mind started off into dreamland: “If I ran a 1:58 now, what the hell am I going to run in the races? Oh my god, I am going to kill it this weekend. I am going to beat Kyle at Thunderhill, of all places”. After only 6 laps of practice, I had begun to lose grip on keeping calm; I had begun to lose grip on reality.

Middleweight

I always get a little nervous lining up on the grid, as I should. But this time when I came around the last turn on the warm-up lap, I began feeling really nervous – almost sick, like I was going vomit in my helmet. When I got to my grid spot I was shaking like a leaf; I lost grip on my mental state.

The green flag drops and I get a pretty good start. Stephen Rue #889 gets a killer start and leaves everyone in the dust (I think Stephen used to do a little stoplight street racing before he came to the AFM). On my right I have Ramsey Junaid #861 peeking out and on my left Kyle Schirrmacher #780 is beginning to drift over from his position on the pole. He’s still drifting. Still drifting. Clack! Kyle and I have a little love tap which shifts my bike into 3^rd gear prematurely, leaving me chasing Ramsey, Kyle, and Stephen into turn 1 with my RPMs lower than ideal.

I get underneath Ramsey between turns one and two and begin to latch onto Kyle. I determined a week earlier (and protested it to Kyle’s main pit guy, Skyler) that my goals/plan for middleweight was to tag onto Kyle’s tail and hope to keep pace through the race. This would leave me way ahead of the pack and allow me to make some attempts on Kyle during the last lap.

Kyle and I worked our way through traffic of the F50 and Heavyweight race, sometimes for his benefit and sometimes for mine. I kept on Kyle until about halfway through the race when he ran a fast lap while I made a mistake in turn six, leaving Kyle to run away in the fast section. As I saw Kyle catching Stephen, I knew I still had a chance for the second half of the plan: make a move on the last lap.

After working my way up toward the two of them on the last lap, I saw traffic ahead which I would be able to use to get underneath Kyle/Stephen on the brakes. However, coming out of turn five on that lap I began to get a severe crap in my right hip flexor. I couldn’t hold back any longer and while coming out of turn nine on the run down the hill, I stood up and stretched out my hip while at full speed. As I sat back down on the bike I misjudged my braking point and missed the apex of ten. This lead me to run very wide on the exit, close the throttle, and run to the absolute very edge of the rumble strip while sliding my rear tire. I lost grip on the front runners and the chance to make a move. I finished 3^rd with a best time of 1:57.691

 http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-middleweight

Sunday

After getting a third in clubman at Thunderhill (a very hard task for my hamster-powered bike) and running a relaxed 1:58 in practice, I lost grip of my concern for my Sunday races. I thought I had it in the bag. Kyle and Stephen are only in my 600 Superbike race and my main two competitors in the 750 Superbike and Formula 1 championships, Travis Trevethick #644 and Ramsey Junaid #861, were running 1:59s. I had it in the bag.

Then I made what may have been my biggest mistake all weekend. I watched the 750 production race from the pit wall. I saw Ramsey not only running with Kyle, but beating him. I checked timing and saw they were running 1:55s! What!!?! Where the hell did they find 2 seconds? Now I was worried; how would I run 1:55? I began to lose grip on my nerves.

750 Superbike

I got a good start and fell into turn one in forth position behind #607, Jeff Keohen. I knew I couldn't let Ramsey and Travis get away in the front; if I had any chance to run 1:55 I knew I would need to be pulled along. I got around Jeff on the entry to turn nine and began to pursue. At this point, I would need to catch-up before they took off and try to simply get in their way.

After only a couple laps, I began to get severe arm pump in my right arm. I decided to back off the attempt on Travis and Ramsey. I got a signal from the wall that Jeff has fallen off the pace and I had room to simply take third. Then a short time later an unfamiliar bike came by me on the run up the hill to turn 9. Young gun #743, Jordan Edginton, managed to get by me on his 750 and we began to battle, so much for my 'go-easy' plan. I actually ran quicker laps than Jordan, but I simply could not get by him. Between my arm feeling like hell and the strong drives Jordan got out of the turns, I had to relinquish my grip on the 3^rd place trophy for 750 Superbike. I finished 4^th with a best of 1:57.8 and an arm that felt like it experienced 40 years of arthritis in a 8 minute period. Travis now joined the rest and also ran 1:55s.

http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-750-superbike

600 Superbike

The 600 Superbike race started out just like the Middleweight race. Stephen Rue was in first, Kyle was in second, and I was tagging onto Kyle’s tail. As the race went on, I lost touch with those two as we went through traffic. Unfortunately I caught behind traffic from turns 6-10 and newcomer, Manuel Hernandez #744, took advantage and wedged his way into 3rd on the inside of the turn 10 entry. He and I battled back and forth for the remainder of the race.

The pain in my arm began to really affect my riding and I was sliding my front and rear tires in areas unusual for me. The high speed of turn seven slides was by far the most “puckering” turn of them all. Leaned over at full tilt, throttle wide open, and a tire which insists on going faster than the actual rate of travel; I had now lost grip with my tires. Rest assured, this was all caused from my own doing, the bike and tires were operating great, my right arm had become a remote-operated extension of a lifeless aperture causing havoc with my riding.

I tried my darndest on the last lap to make a run on Manuel; but just like with Jordan in the 750 race, I came across the finish line in forth – only a blink of an eye off the podium.

http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-600-superbike

Formula 1

With Formula 1 came the final loss of grip, I could no longer even hold onto the bars; my arms had completely failed me. I ran in second place for the first half of the race behind Ramsey, until Travis came flying by me in the front straight into turn one. I kept on his tail for as long as I could. After seeing the thumbs up from my girlfriend signaling on the pit wall, I decided it was better for me to fall back and take my points for the championship rather than crashing out. At this point I couldn’t hold the bars at all, I couldn't open the throttle to 100%, and I couldn’t feel the front end of the bike. I had completely lost grip at this point. I finished the race in third with a best time of 1:58.0.

http://contour.com/stories/afm-round-5-thunderhill-aug-45-formula-1

After the Flag

I came home disappointed with my times and my finishes. I decided to run an analysis of my finishing positions and lap times since I started racing. I saw constant progression and soon realized that I had lost grip on the scope of the situation. Yes, everyone else got faster, but so did I over time. Two 4th place and two 3rd place finishes is pretty good for me at Thunderhill with my rat bike. If I wasn’t so concerned with everyone else’s times, I may have run just as fast as they did and my arm may not have been strained. I lost grip on perspective and as such I lost grip on my bars. Relax, run your race, and let the results come.