“fighting demons”
Thursday, July 10, 2025 – Load in day
Just two weeks prior, I was at the previous MotoAmerica round at Ridge Motorsports Park in Washington, involved in some of the most intense on-track battles of my racing career. With barely enough time for bike maintenance, upgrades, spare parts replacement, restocking, repacking, and reloading, not to mention trying to get in at least one deep breath, we were back at a MotoAmerica race weekend waiting in the staging area to be called to our pit spot for Loading Day at the world-famous, iconic WeatherTech Raceway at Laguna Seca, which happens to be the most local-to-me track on the MotoAmerica calendar.
One year prior, I entered my first MotoAmerica race and competed in the Supersport class. I had some wild on-track battles, but my biggest battles were off-track, with my demons. And there were A LOT of them! The entire experience was one of the most amazing and rewarding of my life, but also the most stressful. Not only did I have absolutely no business thinking I could make the grid, having never pulled off a qualifying lap time in any previous regional race or track day, but the whole experience was entirely new to me. I was completely out of my element. I was fighting a fully pathological “impostor syndrome,” and had no idea how I was going to survive what felt like almost inevitable, utter failure! Oh, and to top it off, just days before the race weekend, I came down with a violent cold — probably Covid!!
So, did I have fun last year? No, not at all! But was it one of the most amazing, profound, and life-changing things I’ve ever done? WITHOUT QUESTION! Making the grid and finishing both races was by far one of the greatest achievements I had ever accomplished, and to do it by overcoming all the odds made it that much sweeter.
Now, I certainly can’t take all the credit. We had assembled an amazing team, led by our Crew Chief, Mike Pond, who is not only a great mechanic but also knows how to run a professional race crew, and happened to be friendly acquaintances with all the right MotoAmerica staff, which got us through some close calls due to my lack of experience. But once I left the safety of my pit and headed out onto the track, it was solely up to me to perform under all the scrutiny and expectations, the tens of thousands of spectators, the TV cameras, and the seemly impossible requirements to make the grid.
I have often joked about my unearned confidence, which applies to many areas of my life. It’s a quiet, subtle, assuredness that I will succeed, one way or another. At the very least, I know that I will be okay no matter what. But for several weeks leading up to last year’s round, I was struggling with an almost debilitating crisis of consciousness, seriously questioning whether I would survive failure, particularly in the form of failing to score a qualifying lap time. Nevertheless, I was determined to show up, give it my best, then give it even more.
After crashing early in my Friday Free Practice session, I got back on track and ran a few hot laps, but none better than a full second from a qualifying time. So, when I went out for Q1 and struggled to go much faster, it must have been a combination of luck and reckless abandon when I found another rider who was slightly faster than me, and got towed into a single, full-send lap that earned me a spot at the back of the grid — P29 of 30! I wouldn’t do another lap at that pace for the rest of the weekend, but it was enough to give me the opportunity of a lifetime, and participate in my very first professional, national motorcycle race, sharing the track with the fastest racers in the entire country. And to top it all off, the final on-track chapter of last year’s story included scoring my fastest race lap on the very last one of the weekend, proving to myself that I not only had what it takes to run with the big dogs, but that I was more than capable of pushing past my limits and achieving new heights of personal success and accomplishment – that I could create my own inertia, and whatever I had believed to be the limit of my potential was shortsighted. The best was yet to come.
Which brings me to the current MotoAmerica season, which had never been a “lifelong dream,” but instead was just the next step in my search for the limit, which has defined my adventurous journey since I embarked on it. And so far, even with each new achievement, it’s been clear to me that I haven’t found it yet. I was no longer “just trying to make the grid,” or to “finish, not last,” or “score a championship point.” Now, I was actively collecting points, winning the most intense on-track battles against some of the fastest, most talented opponents I’ve ever faced. But I’ve also been having the most fun I could have ever hoped for!
Of course, with each notch in my belt, I was facing new challenges to reach the “next level” in racing, which in this case meant a top-10 finish. Spoiler alert – this achievement would still be an elusive milestone even after this weekend, but it would also seem like a much more likely possibility at some point in my racing career.
So, yes, this year has been much better in so many ways. I’m more experienced, more confident, more competitive, and having WAY more fun! But after getting called in from the staging area and pulling our Toy Hauler through the paddock to our pit spot, I was immediately overcome with the overwhelming traumatic memories of last year’s experience and circumstances, which hit me like a ton of bricks and twisted my stomach in knots. I was fully aware that I was essentially having what amounted to a PTSD reaction, triggered by the sights, sounds, and smells so strongly associated with what had been such a stressful event, but I couldn’t turn it off. And as the echoes of last year’s race weekend pounded in my head, they slowly intensified and began to override my rational thinking. I was having trouble remembering how different it was this time, and instead started focusing on how much more was at stake! Once again, I would have my family, friends, acquaintances, and sponsors here to support me, but I also carried the burden of all their hopes and expectations, which were undoubtedly even higher than last year, not to mention my own!
Okay, this was getting a bit ridiculous. “Calm down,” I told myself. “You’ve got this!” Over the years, as someone who has struggled to manage more than my fair share of anxiety and self-doubt, I have learned that the best tactic when I start to feel overwhelmed is to simply focus on the task at hand and take it one step at a time. And that’s precisely what I did. I parked the rig in our spot and worked with my team to get everything unloaded and set up. I wouldn’t even be on the track until tomorrow, so staying grounded in today, in “the here and now,” was not only the best coping strategy, but it was literally all I could do anyway.
So, we got the RV set up, the garage set up, and the pit set up. We got the bike through tech inspection. I took my head shots and attended the riders’ meeting. Then, we all had dinner together and relaxed – well, I at least tried to relax. My final grounding exercise of the day was to reproduce my evening routine as best I could under the circumstances – I made myself a cup of caffeine-free mint tea, sat in bed, and watched TV. It wasn’t long before the exhaustion of the day caught up with me and I drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.