The only race of the September Road Atlanta WERA weekend that really mattered was V5. I had a substantial championship points lead in V6 with the FZR and had not run enough in DSB or Clubman to be in contention in those classes.
Languishing 8 points off the leader in V5 was not where I wanted to be this late in the season. To be honest, I was pissed off about it. A DNF, a DNS and a crappy 5th place due to a silly electrical problem I should have solved immediately instead had me chasing my tail and scrambling for points in a class I should have had a comfortable lead in. I was better than this, and so was the EX. As I thought about the emotional, spiritual, physical and financial investment is this racing scheme, frustration bubbled below the surface...
A moderate amount of sustained anger has always helped my riding. Too much fury and I can get sloppy, but just the right degree allows me to run that fine line between fast and out of control, without the burden of fear. Cold and calculating can get you to a certain level of speed, but sometimes you have to be pissed to push it. And I was there.
|One way or another I am going to get by.|
|Just a little poke up the inside.|
|Just want you to know I'm here.|
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