I am not a race fan. I've never watched, nor been to, a NASCAR event. But for some reason, driving a race car seemed like a fun thing to do. After all, I am a bit of a speed demon. I've never met a speed limit that I liked. This should be fun!
There are two locations here in Phoenix.....Bondurant and Phoenix International Raceway (PIR). PIR seemed a little more "official", and as an added benefit, the charity that I support happened to have a racing day available for purchase at a silent auction. I was good to go!
I decided to schedule this in March before they break for the summer. I attempted to get a few friends to join me, but that never came to fruition. I've never been afraid of doing things by myself, so I didn't even think twice.
After making my way to the track and getting lost finding the office, I finally walked into a room filled with families, groups of men, husbands and wives, children......no crazy fool there by themselves. As I waited to sign in, I seemed to continuously get overlooked by the staff. When I finally caught their attention, I got the, "you are here to race???" As if I was the only woman to ever do this. "Er, yes, I certainly am." After which I got the, "and you are here alone?" WTH?? Why would this all be so strange? Why can't I be here alone? Who would want to come to just sit around for three hours while I learned how to drive the car? Well, turns out, a lot of people.
The staff finally got past these seemingly strange factors, and we got me into my suit. Then, we waited for our class to start. My class was very small in comparison to most. There were a total of 7 of us, when usually there are up to 20 or 30. All men. All older. It's at this time I realize that I'm actually quite nervous. I hadn't thought through any of this. I have never even watched NASCAR, what was I getting myself into? I put my mind at ease - it's just a car. A fast car. What could be hard about this??
As we watched the series of videos, I was less and less nervous. A very nice older couple "adopted" me and told me stories of their previous experience. The videos show us the different components of the car, what to expect when we get out on the track, etc. It also described the lead car that we will follow, with the red and green flashing lights to indicate we are either following too closely or we need to catch up. In my cocky state of mind, I am certain they will never have to turn on the green light to get me to catch up. I'm going to rock this! After the videos, they walk us through different stations where we can get a feel for the gear shift and the steering wheel. And the final stop before heading out to the track is our helmet fitting.
Once at the track, the instructor asks if anyone wants to go on a ride-along. Of course it's extra money, but it will "...really help you get a feel for the car and how fast you can go." Of course I opt out, I certainly don't need that!
I am last in line to get into a car. That's a sign that I'm the weakest link. I try not to take it personally. My turn rapidly approaches since our class is small, and I shimmy out to the track to hop into my car. I lift one leg into the window (yes, I had to help it up a bit) and sit on the edge of the door as I swing the rest of my body into the car. Holy s@%$. I'm in a racecar! It's a very tight and uncomfortable fit. And there is a lot to look at!
They strap you in, click the steering wheel into place, put some weird board behind your neck, and start rattling off all of the things we learned in the videos, only at warp speed. I'm getting confused. Red flashing light means something is wrong with the engine. Stay left of the cones but stay inside the white lines. Deccelerate at the first cone and accelerate at the second. Follow the lead car and watch for his signals. Looks for the guy with the flag. Don't shift once you are out on the track. Talk to the video camera. Bleh. Now I'm all in my head.
We finally take off and I struggle a bit out of the gate, but I quickly catch up to the lead car. That doesn't last long. I'm all in my head, looking for different signals. I try to get my speed up but it's a short track, and as soon as I hit the corners I let off the gas and drift slowly into the corner. And I don't pick it up quickly enough. My lead car is flashing his green light non-stop. The first lap is already over. I'm talking to myself for the video, trying to convince myself that this should be easier. I speed on the freeway all the time, what is WRONG with me? YES, I know, stop flashing that green light!!! Lap three is already over. Or was that four? I don't know. I finally start to get my speed up, I'm feeling good. I'm trying to convince myself that turning the corners a little faster will not flip me over, or slide me off the track. Geezuz, these race car drivers do this all the time at 5 times my speed. Get a grip Lisa! I start relaxing, I pick up my speed, and all of the sudden my lead car starts flashing his red light. You mean I'm too close?? How can that be? I'm so excited, I'm finally starting to get the swing of this. His red light continues to flash, and our speed continues to decrease. What is going on?? As we coast into the pit I realize it's over. I had missed the guy with the flag telling me it was the last lap. I was so caught up in going faster I lost track. And it was over. That was pathetic.
Pathetic as it was, I had a total adrenaline rush. I had just driven a race car! And I would have pictures to prove it.
Turns out, my high speed was 88. I have gone back and forth with whether or not I would publish that. Heck, I get faster than that on my way to work each morning. But, it is what it is. My inner chicken shit was there on the track with me the whole time. If only I had a few more laps. Shoulda coulda woulda. At any rate, it was a fantastic experience. And I may go back again this fall just to prove I can go faster. Dammit.
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