OK. It's Monday morning and the last three days seem like a blur.
My most basic feelings are that I didn't crash and I didn't blow up my bike.
Another which is real hard to explain is that while racing is incredibly enjoyable and addictive, being on the track, in the race, is NOT relaxing fun. It's more like controlled (hopefully) low grade terror. Unlike most terror (the BOO! I scared you kind), though, this is continuous throughout the race. The only way you can avoid it is to slack up. But then, you are not racing.
Several times I would get through a corner that scared the living $hit out of me
and then realized that I had lost my concentration in being so pleased that I had survived and was now coasting.
Ran out of gas (how is that for unfocued?
) during the last practice session in the school on Friday. I pushed my bike halfway back to my truck from the track before I remembered I had a reserve. Duh!
I'm pouring gas like a madman while my other classmates are lining up for the practice start of our mock race. I forget it is a practice start and nearly run over 3 bikes tearing out.
Like Desmo said, the background between races is just overwhelming. Everybody is in chaos. Then you realized that just you are in chaos. Where are you supposed to be? When?
IT DOES GET BETTER. By my race on Sunday I had put about 70 laps on that track.
By my race on Sunday afternoon (each one of these represents a lesson along the line) I was
1. Fully dressed with EMPTY baldder.
2. Fully fueled.
3. Aware of my class and bike number.
4. Knew not to pull into the pits from the starting parade lap.
5. Beginning to see race lines. (This is where most of the other riders were)
6. Knew enough about brake points to realize mine are non-existant except for on the first turn at the end of the straight. Even there, it was no more than a generality along the ground... OKKK!!! I'M SCARED NOW. THIS IS AS GOOD A BRAKE POINT AS ANY!
7. Turn points? Not even a gimmer of an idea. Turning happens.
8. Accelleration points. More an issue of internal debate than a point on the ground. "Uh.... note tooo seeeelllf.... shouldn't we be accelerating somewhere in here?" "Huh... Accellerate? Oh yeah! But maybe just a little... in a minute. Hell! we'll only have to slow down again."
9. Shift points. On the straight, yes. On the rest of the course, no more than an afterthought. "Oh $HIT!! Redlined again! Better shift, huh?" Ten micro seconds later... "WTF is up with this 5,000? Where did this come from?"
Standout memories that were just flashes, over in an instant:
I am leaned way over to the right about halfway through a turn and about 3/4 stable when, out of the corner of my left eye, I see this guy's helmet and shoulders motionless about one foot from me. I remember yelling "$SSSHHHHHIIIIITTTTT!" and bobbeling slightly for an instant. He was gone... not past but "Back There" where you can't see anything... the OTHER part of the race. I had the strongest feeling that I had crashed him. Didn't though. He passed me in the next turn.
I am hard over in a left and about 30' ahead a guy slides off and turns into a cloud of dust like in a cartoon fight where feet and arms stick out. I watch the guy right in front of me watch this guy and go off too. I turn my eyes and face away 'cause I know if I watch I'm next. I make it through, but only because there is a small extra strip of pavement in a certain place about 8" wide.
Hope everyone made it home safely... funksouljon and his brother, RCJohn, Ungwaha. The other totally FINE part of this is meeting the people.