Boys and Girls,
As we gear up for this Mallardfest, and change the topic, I'd just like to
say one last thing, that should hopefully make most everyone feel a lot
better.
And this thing that I want to tell you is, especially if you've just
started, and you're feeling intimidated, that we all sucked at one point or
another.
A couple of years ago, I got to bear witness to one of the most painful
sites of my life: a videotape of me autocrossing when I was about 19 years
old.
My memories of myself were so much different. I was "serious." Yeah, I
seriously sucked. The event was at Golden Gate Fields. In this video, you
see people like Howard Wolf just tearing out of the start box. I don't know
what I was thinking, but it was like, um, I was moving in slow motion or
something. Hello.
Well, I didn't really. I was also a lot harder on myself then. Do any others
out there feel the same thing? You start off, you notice that maybe you have
this natural knack, you're improving like mad, and then BLAM, you hit this
brick wall? This brick wall, for me, lasted several years.
Unfortunately, or maybe the opposite, I wasn't on team.net back then, so all
I could do was internalize this agony, and of course cry to my mom, who'd
then say, "Would you PUHLEASE shut up. It's just an autocross."
At that time, I believed it was always somebody else's fault for my slow
driving. I was walking around asking everyone for help, hoping for that one
answer that would make something click in my head, and suddenly, I'd be
really fast. I'd walk the course with anyone and everyone, pining for this
secret information.
Only, no one was telling me anything. It was really, really frustrating. I
cannot describe it. And it was never my own fault. Somebody was withholding
the information from me.
I was seriously sitting in the van, crying. "Why am I so SLOW?!" I'd scream
at my mom, because as you know, it's always Mother's fault. I was a total
brat.
So, I quit, for like three years. My mom made me do it. I could only run
during Christmas vacation, and in the summer time. I was just too obnoxious
to be around.
I was taking all these acting classes, you know, the kind where you make
yourself believe you're a tree in front of a room filled with people, and
they're all judging how well you're believing you're a tree, and a lot of
their criticisms are harsh. One of the books we had to read was "The Inner
Game of Tennis," the one I just read again as recommended by Rich Urschel. I
learned how to focus not on the result, but the moment in and of itself. Our
teacher was just really into that stuff. I learned how to apply this to
everything, not just autocross.
Anyway, when I came back to autocross, I came back with this whole new
enthusiasm. Well, for one, no matter how slow I thought I was, I was still a
lot better at autocrossing than I was at swimming and acting. So what I told
myself was this: I might be slow, but it's OKAY that I'm slow, because I
know that as long as I'm enjoying these kind of primal feelings, like the
sound of the exhaust, and the grip of the steering wheel, and the wheels
rolling on the ground, I know that maybe I won't be as slow I was I was the
weekend before, and that's really all that matters.
I've just been thinking that way, going through these ups and downs, ever
since. It's just been this really long process. Sometimes, things have been
really great, and other times, really, really depressing. But I need the
depressing times to appreciate the times that are so great.
And it really all comes to something the late Bob Laird told me. I was
sixteen years old, and we were at our annual Solo II banquet. For some
reason, he felt prompted to tell me that EVERYONE, when they started, felt
foolish and embarassed. I have no idea why he would even think to tell me
this, but I guess he just sensed my fear. Not a single person in that room
didn't feel nervous or embarassed or intimidated, he said. It's something
everyone went through. I found it really hard to believe. Like, okay, so
you're telling me Dan Cole, National Champion, looked like a fool at his
first autocross. Okay, whatever.
Anyway, it's just true. I don't know how much any of this matters to any of
you, but I'm glad it's something I went through. Everyone before me went
through it, too. It wasn't until several years later that someone started
talking like that sort of humbling experience was something "bad." It's like
they were equating finishing low as some sort of "failure." Like the so many
women who think, oh no, I can't run in the Open class. I might lose! But if
you learn something from it, then it's not a failure. When you do get
through that brick wall, I've heard it's a really good feeling. :)
Okay, back to the Mallardfest. We have determined that the traffic won't be
that bad from the southbay, so very few of you have any sort of excuse
whatsoever.
Katie
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