It’s Crunch TimePosted: February 17, 2011
I just received a phone call from Mr. Slow. Sad news for his partner at work and bad news for me. My weekend at JenningsGP has just turned into a solo flight. Which means I will have to work all night Thursday, then go home, put the bike in the back of the pickup truck, load all my junk; then drive 167 miles to get my 12K service done on my poor neglected S1000RR; turn around and drive 267 miles, about five more hours, from Marietta, GA to Jennings, FL and hope to make it there before the gate closes at 10PM or I’ll be sleeping outside the gate parked on the side of the road.
Let’s pretend for a moment that I don’t have the shittiest luck in the history of shitty luck and I make it to the track before they lock up. At this point, I wouldn’t have slept a wink in about 28 hours and I still have to set up my pit area and get the bike down the ramp by myself. Check it all over once again to make sure nothing’s rattled loose on the trip, and finish prepping and hopefully have time to catch a few hours of sleep before registration and tech at 7AM.
I am so dead.
I also seem to be one week into developing an inner ear infection, which I have to take care of later today by procuring myself some antibiotics. Hopefully they can squeeze me in at the doctor’s office. Hopefully, the vertigo will have abated somewhat before my first session on the track. Hopefully, I won’t have lap times above 1:35. Hopefully, I won’t look like a total douche out there since I have to represent. Chances are I’m going to be (yet again) the only female rider in the joint. I won’t be at the top of my game, that’s for sure. I’m not even 100% certain that this is such a good idea. As a matter of fact, I know it isn’t. But, that’s racing. Or so they say. And I haven’t even raced yet and I’m already knee-deep in “I might just regret this” territory.
It’s not going to be pretty. Hand me some Xanax, an overdose of caffeine, and my knee sliders, I’m going in! Or out. One or the other, not sure yet which it is going to be.
Note to self: Bring 50 gallon drum of sugar-free Red Bull, because not only does it give you wings, it also consistently shaves at least 2 seconds off your lap times and can be used as a projectile weapon in those rare cases where a low-flying wrench just won’t do.