During the downtime before the next event, I discover the identity of the ratty green motorcycle that beat me in the V6LW race at Road Atlanta. It is a Yamaha FZR400. And it is for sale.
The machinations hum in my mind. I have been beaten twice by FZRs already this season. I know without a doubt that the best ridden EX500 does not stand a chance against a built FZR, and here is one begging me to own it. For about half of what it cost me to build my EX.
I languished on uncompetitive machinery during my early racing career, and spent tons of money trying to turn the proverbial sow's ear into a silk purse. I am as much an advocate of doing things your own way as anyone, but racing will only tolerate so much creativity and individualism within its narrow confines, markedly less so if you really want to win. Occasionally, the road more travelled is the correct one.
And on and on my mind went, justifying, rationalizing, bargaining, pushing me. I am not an addict....I am not an addict....I am not an addict....