Sunday, November 10, 2013

The CLASS Reunion of My Passion for Track Riding

Sometimes in life, even when the chips are down, they all fall into place for one brief moment that presents an opportunity for you to seize a chance to find your way back onto a path in life.

A friend had messaged me about a riding school that I had been trying to attend for a couple of years now.  I had done California Superbike School, and seen my skills and riding ability improve almost overnight; having gotten a lot of compliments from people I rode with on a regular basis, and also feeling a lot more capable and comfortable on the bike.  My friends had spoken of Reg Pridmore's CLASS School for a while, saying that it was more street oriented and giving a lot of great feedback.  The only problem was that it usually only took place on weekdays, and at $225-$250 per day it was hard to bring my finances and my work schedule together in a way that would allow me to attend.

My friend pointed out that there were still some openings and that there were two days that it was being offered: Thursday and Friday at Streets of Willow at Willow Springs.  It just so happened that I had that Friday off so I jumped at the opportunity.  I dropped my bike off to be hauled with one of my fellow riders/CLASS instructor, and on Friday I met everyone, and my bike out at the track.  I have to admit that the three days in between were a special kind of torture.  Streets of Willow is one of my favorite tracks to ride because it is so technical and you don't have to ride very fast in order to be challenged.  This is great for first time track-goers who might otherwise get onto a bigger track and run significantly slower than the rest of the pack. I also just like the way it flows. It has a very good amount of tight corners and elevation changes, but I especially enjoy riding it in reverse.

Hangin' out with her friends before the long day

We finally arrived and I waited in line for registration, and then sat through the initial morning meeting. There were two groups: A and B; A was for the faster riders.  I was in B.  I didn't really feel nervous; quite the contrary, I felt like I was at home again, I felt at ease and there was an excitement churning in my soul that simply led me to believe that this day was going to be worth way more than I was paying. 

I glanced around and saw a diverse group of riders: women, men, young, old, advanced riders, timid riders, etc.  It was a good group, everyone was attentive and respectful. Everyone's mind seemed to be open to learn. Reg made it abundantly clear from the get-go that this wasn't a racing school, it was a school for street riders and, as such, we would be taking different lines around the course - the tighter line; the safer line.  That pretty much set the pace for the rest of the day.  The seminars alternated with 20 minutes of track time; during which you implemented the concepts that were covered during the seminars.  Coaches were out in force helping give pointers and keep things in line.

A few corners were harder to see around with these tighter lines and I felt myself struggling with confidence.  It wasn't too long afterward that I felt like I was making excuses for why I wasn't picking up the pace. I pulled a coach aside and asked him to give me some feedback on what I was doing wrong.  A few laps around and he approached me on the skidpad: "You look fine, your body position is good, you're smooth, it just seems like you're struggling with confidence."  I nodded and thanked him without feeling all that reassured.  A part of me really wanted him to tell me that my BP was off, or that I was still running wide, or something of technical note.  But in reality the biggest problem was in my mind and it wasn't something that was going to be remedied by following someone around a track or having someone follow me around the track.

Sometimes, we are our own biggest barrier.  What we believe translates, often unconsciously, into actions and reactions to situations; riding is no different. What we believe often keeps us tied into or committed (target fixated?) to an unhealthy situation, or a relationship, or a lifestyle that will inevitably undermine our potential. If we are afraid, or otherwise emotionally dictated, we are more inclined to knee-jerk reactions and incidental crashes.  CLASS was really good about instilling the importance of control and confidence.

I had some trouble at the beginning. I couldn't seem to hit the g-spot where everything fell into place and I got lost in the ride, it hadn't been all that satisfying for some time. It felt foreign.  It had been this way for the last few years or so but that's what happens when you stop trying.  There was always something, it seemed; mechanical failures, residual disappointments, and I got wrapped up in a few things that were beyond my control in other aspects of my life and let it get the best of me and subsequently create more estrangement between me and riding. This was only compounded by my own unrealistic expectation that I shouldn't have lost any speed or skill in this tumultuous process.  The frustration of not meeting my own standards really only caused resentment which perpetuated the estrangement; I used to be faster, I used to be better, what the hell?!  But somewhere in there was a yearning to get back to it; to find myself in a new place with a new love with more skill and that was why I was here. 

The one thing that stood out to me the most about this particular day, was that I wasn't getting frustrated.  I didn't feel the strain of my own expectation to keep up with myself, or the nagging expectations of someone else: "I know you can ride faster." You need to pick it up a bit..." For the first time in a while, I wasn't un-satisfied.  In fact, I was having the time of my life.  It was relaxing, it was peaceful, and I was smiling... from my jaded, fragmented, yet determined and passionate soul. I was satisfied with my meager pace, and my blasted confidence, and my bike with the front fork that sprayed just a little fork oil on the sides of my front tire when I hit certain little bumps, and the dip and then surge in power when I wussed out on a corner and let the rev's dip a little too much. I let out an embarrassed howl of laughter when I pulled an epic mis-shift on the back straight right after I had jokingly declared in the paddock "This is it, I'm going to make that corner my bitch!" I was okay with the fact that I was out of shape, and I had begun letting go of the discouragement, the past, the negativity, and started taking an inventory on all of the things that needed rebuilding; within myself and my bike; starting with the fork seals - Yes, I am aware I pointed out suspension needs in my last post as well, but hey... ain't nobody got time fah dat!

At the end of the day I stood in the pits, staring at the bike and the track off in the distance.  I hadn't stopped smiling all day and my cheeks were starting to hurt. There was a layer of dust, sweat and exhaust in my pores, my hair was jacked up, and my thighs were weak and wobbly. The CLASS folks had been so amazing in helping me with this day and words couldn't really sum up what it meant to me to seize this one opportunity for a healthy re-introduction to the passion that gives me the most joy in my life; reminding me that sometimes the bike isn't the only thing that needs rebuilding.

 
 
A CLASSy buncha guys right there...