On being fit

Two mornings, every week, I get up at just after five a.m. and trudge on down to Corona Del Mar to get my butt whipped by a girl. My theory is its better to be humiliated off track than on.

One thing I noticed as soon as I started competing was that as much as I love racing, by the time the last few laps came around I was looking mournfully at the starters stand for the white flag, and cursing every time it didn’t come out. It didn’t really make much sense. Here I am spending most of my spare income, looking forward with great anticipation to each and every race, and then wishing it was over just because it hurt. So I started working out, which, especially when pushing fifty, really does hurt.

But it does work. I started noticing that instead of wishing the race were over, I started wishing for just one more lap. And when I get out of the car, I’m badly dehydrated, but otherwise feeling pretty good.