SUNDAY, AUGUST 17, 2025 – Warmup and Race 2
I woke up way too early, as usual on a race weekend. It gave me plenty of time to review Saturday’s race – what went well and what didn’t. But it also gave me time to load myself up with a season’s worth of stress and obsessively worry about what was at stake today. This would be my final race of my first full season of MotoAmerica. The season started with such unexpected success, earning my first national championship points in my first round, then getting better, faster, and more competitive each round since. I’m a very sentimental person, so finishing strong and ending on a high note would mean everything to me.
There are, of course, two schools of thought about whether my obsessive anxiety serves me. My critics complain that it gets in my way and interferes with my performance. If I’m being completely honest, I would agree with this assessment if and when it goes unchecked. But I have a different take. I have always been this way, and I have always been a fierce competitor. I have learned to harness my anxiety in competition. It helps me plan and prepare, adapt and overcome. It gives me intense focus. It makes me single-minded – so instead of being a distraction, it completely takes over and blocks out anything and everything else that might distract me. It drives me to perform at the highest level. Regardless of whether it hurts or helps me, after more than half a century on this spinning rock, I have come to accept that it is simply who I am. My choice is not whether to be anxious, but only what I do about it – what I do with it.
Eventually, everyone else woke up, which was nice because I was able to get out of my head and focus on making sure there was enough coffee and breakfast to go around. The morning was fairly uneventful, and to save my tires, I decided to skip the warmup session. Besides, I hadn’t made any adjustments to the bike that I needed to test out, and it was pretty chilly outside, so I didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks, with little to gain.
Raceday buzz was in the air. Riders and teams were all active in their pits getting ready for the day, and updates started coming through on the radio and the informational app that MotoAmerica uses to send out announcements. One of these was a revised grid for Super Hooligans. Apparently, one of my competitors who had a grid position in front of mine had crashed in yesterday’s race and wasn’t able to get their bike race-ready to finish off the weekend. Bad news for them, but GREAT news for me! Not only did that mean I would gain a grid position, but that new position would be in the middle of my row, giving me a WAY better chance of getting to the outside of turn one and avoiding the cluster-fuck that held me up in yesterday’s race. Hell yeah!!
Race 2 was pretty early on the schedule, which was nice, since there would be plenty of time afterward to hang out, enjoy some other racing, and pack up. But before the afternoon races started, we got to take part in another one of my favorite MotoAmerica events – the Fan Walk! My team set everything up in the hot pit, and once the gates were open, the crowds flooded in. I always love interacting with the fans, signing autographs, and taking pictures. In addition to our fan posters and lots of fun little giveaways for the kids, we also gave away free samples of a training supplement provided by one of our sponsors. I would love to think that all the fans stopped by to visit with me, the “MotoAmerica pro racer,” but free stuff is always a big draw. Whatever gets’em to the table! And whenever someone was willing to listen, I took the opportunity to talk about The Remix Racing Project and all the great work our nonprofit has been doing. Best of all, lots of people felt compelled to tell me their own stories of struggling with or recovering from mental health conditions, addictions, and suicidal ideation. This is really what it’s all about – engaging with people to normalize conversations about these sensitive topics is one of the most effective ways to fight stigma, and reduce barriers to getting the help people need and deserve.
After the Fan Walk, I returned to the RV to get ready, and my team brought the bike back to our pit, then threw it on stands and warmers. I went through all my pre-race rituals, then made my way out to the pit to get ready for my final MotoAmerica race of the season.
Well, it had all come down to this. Based on my grid spot and pace at this track, as well as the super stacked grid and wicked fast riders and bikes in front of me, I had no illusions that I would be adding any points to my championship. Instead, my plan was to consolidate my position in the championship and finish strong. Most of all, I wanted to end the season on a high note and feel good about my overall performance.
The countdown calls from race control started coming in, and the familiar butterflies in my stomach started fluttering. I donned my helmet and gloves, mounted the bike, and when the two-minute call came through, my team pulled the warmers and stands, and sent me on my way.
I cruised through the paddock and into the track entrance. I pulled up behind a group of riders who arrived just before me, all of us waiting to be released onto our sighting lap. When the marshal replaced his red flag with a green one and got out of our way, we all peeled off onto the track and ripped our way around the circuit before slotting into our grid position. Shanea was waiting for me at my new spot in the middle of row 6. I pulled up and stopped. She grabbed my helmet and gave me my customary good luck kiss, then exited the track. As soon as all the crew had cleared, a marshal at the front of the grid waved a green flag, and we all took off for our warmup lap. One more time around and back into our grid spots. I kept my visor down and my bike in first gear.
Chest down. Elbows out. Primal scream inside my helmet. Lights on. Revs up. Lights out. GOOOOOOOOOOO!
I dumped the clutch and my bike lurched beneath me. I love this part! I immediately began to cheat my way to the right side of the track to avoid getting caught in the turn one traffic. It worked! Well, kind of. I lost one position as we all bent to the left through the crowded hole shot, but that was still much better than yesterday. Now it was just a matter of putting my head down, doing what I could to reclaim the position, but certainly not lose any more.
My pace was fast and consistent, and I was battling with a couple of other mid-pack riders. But on lap three, one of them went off track over the short rise of turn seven, then cut back across the track right through my race line! I had to take evasive action and managed to avoid a collision, but the other riders I had been chasing were able to break away as I lost some of my drive coming through Thunder Valley. Grrrrrr! At least I regained one position.
I kept pushing, trying to latch back on the riders that got away. I was beginning to close the gap, but I didn’t know if there would be enough time left to catch and pass them. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one trying to chase them down, and on lap five, I learned that the hard way when another rider got past me. Mother F*&^%$!!! Oh well, at least I had a new carrot to chase.
I couldn’t afford to lose any more positions. I put my head down and pushed with everything I had. I stayed with him and studied where he was faster and where I might have the edge. There were only a few laps left, so I would have to plan my attack quickly if I had any hope of retaking the position.
After driving through the final turn of the penultimate lap and onto the final lap of the race, I focused on hitting every mark, determined to make my move before it was too late. I stayed with him through turn one and got excellent drive on the exit. I drew up behind him into the chicane of turns two through four, then as we flicked our bikes back to the right on entry to the T5 Key Hole, he drifted just slightly from the apex. This was it. My best – maybe my only – opportunity. I threw my head, knee, elbow, and shoulder as hard to the right as possible to hug the apex. I got on the throttle just enough to pull up in the narrow gap between his bike and the curb, and held my line. There was only the smallest of clearance between the apex and his bike, so I had to be millimeter perfect if I was going to pull this off. I fixed my eyes on the latest part of the apex to stay as tight to the line as possible, and once the bike was locked in, I looked as far down the back straight as I could manage. With the tighter line, I managed to barely slide underneath and past him, and as we hit the exit, I let my bike drift slightly away from the apex to complete the block pass. AWESOME!!!! I did it! On the final lap of the final race of the season, I made one of the best and cleanest technical passes I could have hoped for!
Now I just needed to keep him behind me for the rest of the lap and to the finish. There was way too much of a gap to the next rider, so I was happy to settle for my current position. With nearly two-thirds of the track left to complete the lap, I focused hard on hitting all my brake, turn, and throttle markers, and running a fast but defensive line. I was on fire, moving fast, and certainly assured of making my last lap my fastest.
I came through the left-handed kink at T13 and lined my bike up for the tricky Carousel. I flicked the bike back to the right and leaned hard, trying to hug the apex and finish late to get the best drive through the final turn. But warn tires and too much adrenaline were complicating matters, and I was having trouble keeping the bike tight to the right. I drifted just a bit too far toward the outside of the track, which completely compromised my entry into the final turn and my drive down the front straight. Hang on!
As soon as I could, I ripped the throttle back open, and the bike surged down the straight for the final time of asking. Far from perfect, but hopefully enough to get me to the line without any trouble. Head down, I clicked through the gears with precision. I could see the checkered flag waving and the finish line fast approaching. This was it. I was about to complete my final race of the season after making an epic last-lap pass. Just ten more yards to the line…ten feet…ten inches…WHAT?!?! A fraction of a fraction of a second before I crossed the finish line, a blur in the left of my peripheral vision streaked passed me. Oh shit! You’ve gotta be kidding!