Racy One: How a dream is born.Posted: January 6, 2011
Bouncing around various blogs, forums and personal web sites I realized something which actually quite surprised me; however, it shouldn’t have, if I had used my brain a little, that is. What in the world is she going on about now? I’m glad you’ve asked.
There are a lot of dream chasers out there. People, young and old, from different walks of life, all over the world, who just put it out there. Their dream and their journey going after it. For various reasons, some of which are based in accountability, motivational and inspirational reasons, or maybe just to visualize and focus on their goals. They succeed. They fail. They all have one thing in common: they do something about it; and no matter the degree of their eventual success or failure, they can all stand tall in the end and say: “I did it.”
I have a dream, too. I had one last night and it involved Mr. Slow dressed in a way-too-tight leather onsie doing the… oh never mind, wrong dream…
Rewind. Flashback. An unspecified time, but not too long past, in a woman’s life whose nickname was not yet Miss Busa.She is sitting at her desk at work, feet propped up on the edge of the desktop, leaned back in her old, but comfy and broken in by plenty of assage over the years, office chair. She’s tilted back, balancing precariously on two of the five rollers, rocking slowly back and forth, completely absorbed in a book she is reading. The title of the literature? “A Twist of the Wrist” by Keith Code. (At this time) she can’t relate to most of the exercises but does them anyway in adapted form. She answers the questions Mr. Code is asking of the reader in the margins. She really digs the author. This guy makes you think for yourself. He doesn’t just spoon-feed the reader information and demand that they swallow and digest. Perfect for a girl who has never been much on following blindly nor believing everything she’s told and be satisfied with “trust me on this, I’m an expert”. She wants the reasons, she wants the underlying science, the root cause, the Why and the How. Rote memorization doesn’t work for her, but understanding cause and effect definitely does. If she understands, she remembers.
Motorcycling is like that for her. Application of skill gained by knowledge (and the understanding of the physics behind it), and with that comes total control. Everything happens for a reason, there are no surprises and all is under her control. Cause and effect. Simple. Linear. Straightforward, no exceptions. Logical. Maybe that is why she latched onto the sport so strongly and her initial skill progression happened at a considerably accelerated pace. She has been told that she understands the subject matter better than most. She had replied with a self-doubt inspired, but convinced “Yaright! Whatever. You’re full of it.” However, secretly she enjoyed the compliment and it seemed to validate her in some not-so-minor way. The catalyst for the confidence boost the girl needed to take the next step, and the step after.
A notion quietly undergoes a transformation, becomes an impression and finally solidifies her desire, as she reads faithfully through the pages of Code’s book. She wants to race! She has a competitive nature despite her shyness, so this also shouldn’t come as a surprise. It is what we call a natural progression. She has no clue what is involved or where to even get started. All she knows is that she wants to do it. Naive, but powerful. Driven.
Until she gets to Code’s last chapter. The chapter on sponsorship and the business backend of racing. After digesting the information presented, she loudly exclaims to no one in particular, to an empty room: “Screw all that! I just wanna ride.” Running around selling yourself to the people who can buy you a set of tires or whatnot severely (and annoyingly) cuts into time better spent practicing and honing one’s craft. “I’m too shy for this anyway.”
And with that she forgets all about racing… for a little while.