Confessions from Sunset Ridge MX

This past weekend was fun... well, mostly fun. I spent saturday traveling with my supportive wife to the middle of nowhere, Illinois - a little town called Walnut. Actually, Walnut is so small, the closest hotel was 17 miles away in Princeton... which is still about 2 hours west of our suburban locale. The track is called Sunset Ridge MX and they were only track within driving distance that still had any races left for this season.

We made it out there around noon so I could sample the track I would be racing on Sunday. I explored in my first 3 laps, then got another good 5 under my belt. In my last set of timed practice, I was pushing my 6th lap in an effort to increase my stamina for the upcoming race. I let off the throttle just a dab too much over a huge double. I cased (landed too short) and endoed (nose first) the landing and went flying off the bike. Another head crash, smashed up elbow and such a deep tissue bruise on my hip/thigh that the bruise is only just now starting to surface. Damn that hurt, maybe I should stop pushing so hard?

After two ibuprofen, as many beers and some pizza, the pain wasn't so bad. But the truth is, I was already questioning if I should race on Sunday. As anyone that plays sports will attest, confidence, or lack thereof, will make or break your performance. And so went a weekend race down the tubes.

I woke at 6am on Sunday, wondering if the Red Sox pulled off another win against the Rockies and wincing in pain as I rolled to get up. I almost tripped over my dirtbike on the way to the bathroom and wondered if I would make it through the day. Oh yea, I brought the suzuki into the hotel room so nobody would steal it off my trailer. :) Thanks to the unsuspecting foreigner at the Econo-Lodge (classy joint) for allowing me to bring it in. I'm pretty sure he thought I meant a pedal bike.

ME: I called and asked for a ground floor room with exterior access.
GUY: We have ground floor. No exterior access.
ME: I can't leave my bike on the trailer. Can I bring it in?
GUY: OK sir... I guess. Please pay for room now.
ME: Great, I'll go wheel it in now.



C class started practice at 8:30am and we were the first class on the track. It's freezing cold, the track is freshly groomed, wet and deep loamy dirt; nothing like the actual track conditions during a race. Not only was it a waste of three freezing cold, mud splattered, partly visible and torturous laps, I slid out on the final turn before the finish line, flopped over the handle bars and knocked the wind out of myself.

Can you remember the last time the wind was knocked out of you? It felt like a 300 pound gorilla sucker punched me in the gut. I gasped for air and wondered if it would reach my lungs before I blacked out. I crawled off the track, moaning a deep, guttural groan as I tried to avoid getting hit by any bikes behind me. Panic swallowed me as I ripped off my goggles and helmet and struggled for breath. It was almost as painful and challenging to exhale as it was to inhale. I could hear people talking to me but couldn't make out the sounds. I was sure my groans were freaking people out. It seemed like forever passed but I finally caught my breath. Phew... maybe I should call it quits already?

I was in the first practice class that started at 8:30am but I didn't have my first race until another 1.5 hours of practice and 13 other races ahead of me. The ibuprofen was still working, the pain seemed manageable and it was showtime. I wandered to the starting gate to wait my turn to be called. Begin butterfly swarming.

The gate finally drops and I'm off to a decent start. The track is beat up with lots of deep ruts but at least it is dry. I make the second turn and my mouth feels completely parched. Not just thirsty but actually parched; lips feel ready to crack and breathing seems to scrape through my mouth and into my lungs. My quads are burning over the first set of whoops and I'm only on the first damn lap. Halfway through I feel completely exhausted. Yesterday I was pushing 6 laps and today I feel whipped and I haven't completed one.

Then, it gets even better. On the final lap after I've completely given up hope of actually competing in this moto and just trying to finish, I get caught with my front tire in one rut and my rear in another and pancake down to the ground AGAIN. I angrily pick myself back up to finish 8th out of 13.

The pain and exhaustion compounded to a point I'm ashamed to admit. The fear, anxiety and lack of confidence combined for a terrible performance and at least another week worth of nursing injuries. Maybe I started racing too soon... maybe I just need more practice... I thought I had conquered some milestones with motocross racing but this last weekend chopped me down a couple notches.