Being A Racecar Driver Is More Of An Athletic Endeavor Than Many Think

Published on Mon Jan 4, 2010
<p>The negative reaction to Jimmie Johnson being named the Associated Press Male Athlete of the Year this week tripped a switch in my memory banks. It got me to thinking about my first laps in a racecar and how it only strengthened my conviction that drivers are indeed athletes. That has been the crux of the negative reaction: Stick-and-ball fans saying Johnson should not be honored with the AP award because drivers are not really athletes. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hey, they say, Johnson just drives around in circles. Big deal. My dog could do that if he had longer legs and a smaller brain, har, har. </p><p> </p><p>I'm here to tell you that your dog could not do that no matter how long his legs and no matter how small his owner's brain. I'm here to speculate that the people who say such things know as much about auto racing as I do about dating fashion models. </p><p> </p><p>Day 1 of driving a racecar was an eye-opener. It was a Formula Ford – a Titan, to be precise – and with classroom training aced, I figured the easy part was now at hand. I figured a couple of laps and it was off to Monza. </p><p> </p><p>The first discordant notes sounded when it was time to wiggle into the cockpit while wearing fire gear that made unwashed L.L. Bean wool shirts feel like satin against the skin. </p><p> </p><p>Then came the noise, the vibration, the heat, the claustrophobia. All before the car had moved an inch. </p><p> </p><p>Then came the hot laps and the brake stomping, wheel wrestling, hand-to-hand G-Force combat all while trying to process thoughts about Turn 2 before the car got to Turn 1. </p><p> </p><p>Three laps in and exhaustion had a strong foothold. The legs ached from using them to push against the cockpit wall in an effort to keep the body upright. The neck ached from having the helmeted-head tossed side to side. Everything in between felt like it had done five minutes in a hardware store paint shaker. </p><p> </p><p>This at a time when I was young and in shape. </p><p> </p><p>Then came the realization that Andretti's run as the last American F1 champion was secure for a while. </p><p> </p><p>I ran away from tough guys growing up. I wrestled in high school. I skied regularly as a 20-year-old in Colorado. I rode bicycles up mountains. I read Dostoevsky in college. None were as though as driving a race car -- and one that topped out about 100 mph. </p><p> </p><p>Run that past your dog. </p>