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Road Racing

Yet another Sunday full of panic and drama. I have this dream that one day I will make it through race day travel without a panic attack. Not yet. Maybe someday.

I think the majority of it starts with a 3:00am alarm. Man that’s rough. It’s hard to sleep the night before. Just about the time I go to sleep, the alarm goes off.

No real issues until we got to Watkins Glen. There was fog around the airport and apparently you can’t land a big plane at a small airport with zero visibility. I would think that you could with the right computer, but maybe not.

So, we circled the area for about 2 hours. The fog was lifting so the pilots decided to try and land the plane, emphasis on try. They pulled up at the last minute. First time for me to be on a plane that had to abort a landing. So not fun. Did I mention I don’t like to fly very much? Take offs and landings make me really nervous. Especially since these planes are really big and the airports are really small, not exactly designed to be landing a big plane there.

So we came around for another try a few minutes later. Thankfully, we made it on the ground safe and sound.

But, as I mentioned, we had circled for over 2 hours. That made us over 2 hours late. When we got off of the plane and out the gate the rental car lady was there, but there was no car with my name on it. Second time in two weeks that has happened. No sleep, already running late equals zero patience. Another 30 minute delay looking for the car.

Of course this has to happen on the day that I am supposed to start calling all of our guests to make sure that they made it to the track ok. And at a race track that I had never been to and new nothing about.

Fun Times

Watkins Glen is a road course race track that is out in the middle of nowhere New York. It’s a 30 min drive from the airport on back country roads with lots of steep hills. It probably would have been a nice scenic drive had I have had the chance to breathe. I’ve heard its a really pretty place with amazing water falls. I still don’t know that first hand though.

When I finally got to the track, which I couldn’t see, I followed the signs to the infield and asked several people where to go. Unfortunately, I followed the wrong signs and got lost in the campground. Just what I needed. I did manage to make it to the infield and after asking several more people found the right parking lot.

This whole process was very frustrating for me. All of the race tracks that I have ever been to are visible from the road. It’s pretty clear where the infield is and usually pretty easy to find the right parking lot. Not this one! Shame on me for not being more prepared.

Had to talk to several more people in order to find the Cup garage and the media center as well.

It’s a road course. It’s all screwed up.

I finally made it to the media center and had a chance to catch my breath. There was a lot going on in there so I didn’t hang out for too long. I made my way to the garage to catch up with our driver’s PR manager. He showed me where pit road was and where the pit box was. At this road course the drivers go around the track counter clockwise, so everything is backwards from normal. You would think that would be easy to remember, but its not. It’s really confusing.

About half of our guests showed up, which is normal. They met with the driver and I gave them the speech about walking to pit road for the opening ceremonies. About an hour later only half of the half showed up. I have no idea why people come to the track and don’t want to walk out to pit road before the race and sit on the pit box to watch the race. It really baffles me, seriously. I would have killed for an opportunity like that, regardless of the driver!

It’s such an awesome experience to walk down pit road like you own the place! To stand next to the cars and watch all of the pre-race excitement… I just can’t put it into words. I don’t know why anyone would miss that.

A bit earlier in the day the PR manager that I was hanging out with got tapped to spot for the driver on the back part of the course. So, he asked me to do his job for the day. That meant once the opening ceremonies were finished I sent the guests down to the pit box and stayed at the car while the driver got in the car. I got to be the official hat and sunglasses holder for the day! lol

I also got to take pit notes, which is basically writing down everything that happens in the race that pertains to our car and what the driver and crew chief talk about during the race. Very cool.

Once I made it down to the pit box and the race started, within 10 laps all of the guests left. So, I went to the media center. There is air conditioning in there and I’m not in the way in there. Plus they have TVs so you can see what’s going on. I opted to take my pit notes on the computer. It’s way easier.

About 2/3 through the race there was a big wreck that cause damage to the barriers. They had to be repaired before the race could continue. So, as was the duty of “official hat holder”, I made my way back to pit road to wait for the driver. They parked the cars on the front stretch and the drivers got out.

It took more than an hour to repair the barriers. The drivers hung out behind the pit box and ate popsicles. They talked to the crew guys for a while and talked to each other. Finally they got back in the cars and got the race started again.

It took a bunch of cautions and another red flag to finish the race.

Me, being so prepared and all, went a different way out of the track. I was trusting my sweet iPhone to get me to the airport, but I didn’t have very much confidence in the way I was going. More country roads, lots of houses, no gas stations or restaurants in sight. Not cool for someone who needs to put gas in their rental car before I got back to the airport.

I drove around for 30 mins after I found the airport looking for a gas station. After a couple of wild goose chases from highway signs, I finally found one. One that didn’t take credit cards. Thankfully, for once in my life I had cash.

When I got back to the airport I realized that had I went the other way on the highway I would have found civilization. Even more frustrating that driving around for 30 mins!

Finally made it to the plane though and surprisingly enough ours was the earlier of the two to leave. We made it home by 9:30pm, though the landing was a lot rougher than usual. That was about the fifth time I was positive that I was going to die that day.

On the plane ride home this guy sat down next to me and started talking to me. I’m sure I was looking at him like he had lost his mind. That never happens. Lots of people stare at me, but no one ever says anything. Not sure what he was up to. Maybe he was just chatty or maybe he had other intentions. I don’t know. But the ring on his left hand kept me from saying too much. So not going there.

All in all I survived another race day. I visited another state and another race track that I had not seen before.

Back to Michigan next weekend.

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Through the Clouds

From August 3, 2014:

I was on a plane twice today to and from the race track in Pocono, PA. The forecast called for a 50% chance of rain. Not cool. Too many rain delays already this year.

I always sit by the window on planes, when I can. I love to look out the window and see things I’ve never seen before. I imagine the lives of the people down below and wonder what they have planned for the day. I wonder if it is half as cool as what I have planned. Probably not. Not much can top a NASCAR race in my opinion. There is nowhere else I would choose to be.

During the first flight the clouds started to build. And before I knew it we were in the middle of them. There was no sign of sky above or little people below. It’s impossible to tell which direction we were going. You have to have some kind of faith to fly like that! I wonder what pilots did before they had computers to guide them.

My life reminds me of flying through clouds. I go on for hours, days, months not knowing where I am going or what I am doing. I have tremendous faith in the process though. I have to. It’s worked out before. Surely it will work out again… right?

All the things I spent years dreaming about I now have. I wanted:


  1. To go to the racetrack regularly
  2. A Hard Card (an annual credential to all of the Sprint Cup races)
  3. To be an important part of a race team
  4. To make enough money to pay my bills
  5. To have peace and quiet at home
  6. To find myself


I have all of those things, so much to be thankful for. But there is still a list of things that I want:


  1. To work for a certain company
  2. To have a husband of my own
  3. To have a family


Everything else seems to pale in comparison to these things. Every time that I start to get overwhelmed and concerned (which happens a LOT) something seems to remind me to stop and trust. Have faith. I’m not the pilot. I’m just the passenger. We will make it through the uncertainty of the clouds… in time.

And hopefully, just hopefully, like today, it will be a beautiful day for a race!


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9 Miles

I was looking through my workouts this past week and saw that my coach scheduled a 9 mile run for Monday. I got scared. I’ve never run 9 miles before. It seemed like an impossible thing to do. Plus, it has been so hot and humid outside. I get inspired to run when it’s about 65. I get inspired to sleep in the air conditioning when its 95 with a dew point of 75… aka rain forrest miserable. My asthma makes it impossible to breathe in those conditions.

I thought about this run all week and all weekend. I was dreading it as I sat on the couch for 5 hours on Sunday watching the race from Indy. Guilt started to creep in for skipping my workout that day. Thankfully for me, I use guilt as motivation for the next day.

I knew that 9 miles was going to take a long time, like over 2 hours, so I set my alarm for 5am. When I woke up Monday morning it was dark and raining. Probably would have went anyway, but then I heard thunder as well. Not good. So I did the only reasonable thing: went back to bed for 3 hours.

It kept creeping into my head the whole day… 9 miles.

By the time I got home there was no doubt in my mind. I was going to finish all 9 miles if it was the last thing I did! I love the days when there is no doubt, no internal battle over whether or not to go run. Those are the worst battles for me.

I laced up my shoes and headed out. I had Gatorade and Strava ready to go. I had also mapped out a route and knew exactly what it would take to complete all of the miles.

Before I hit the first half mile there is a busy road that I have to cross. In the town where I live there are crosswalks with signs that people are supposed to stop. Most don’t. But some do. A few cars blew past and then one in the lane farthest from me started slowing down. I assumed he was stopping for me. Not so much. I took off to cross the street and realized the moron was turning left (without a turn signal). He almost ran over me! Then looked at me like I had done something wrong! I hope he learned his lesson. I sure learned mine! That run was almost over before it started!

Keep digging.

I had a particularly rough day at work. Five minutes before 5pm my boss sends me a message. “Don’t leave yet. I need to talk to you.” Never good. My first thought:

“Oh hell. What did I do now?”

The conversation wasn’t so bad, but our communication styles are so different that we constantly run into issues. He’s OCD particular about EVERYTHING and I’m more laid back. In theory it sounds like a good combination. It’s not. And of course he said something that bothered me and I took it personally. I always do.

This incident was on my mind for the first 6 miles of my run. I tried everything I could to push it out. But it kept coming back. I planned every snarky, sarcastic, nasty response that I could think of. In my head, I yelled at him for why he was wrong and why I was right. I had some great arguments for why he was being ridiculous and why the whole thing was so not the issue he was making it.

I’m great at telling people exactly what I think about them… in my head, way after the confrontation is over. I’ll tell them again and again until I feel like I’m going crazy. But the good thing that comes out of it is that I usually know how to respond better, at the right time, the next time.

I wrestled with this issue for a long time, but I came to a sensible solution. One that didn’t involve snark or nastiness and that lowered the rick of me getting fired. Thank you endorphins!

It’s not easy to run 9 miles. Everything is telling you to quit. My head is the worst. So many negative thoughts. I struggle to breathe after about a mile so I have to walk for a couple of minutes to catch my breath. At those times my legs start to hurt and my head tells me things like, “It’s ok. You ran 4 miles. You can totally walk the rest of the way.” On this day, I pushed those thoughts aside and kept plugging away.

About mile 5 a lady on a bike passed me and said, “You’re doing a great job! Keep going!” God bless her! I think she was an angel. I love those people who can say things like that to total strangers. When I grow up, I’m going to be like them!

The last 3 miles were the worst. There was a dog (I hate dogs) and people in the way and sweat mixed with sun screen lotion running in my eyes. In the middle of this I realized what a nice day it was. Beautiful even! The temperature was perfect and the wind was blowing just enough. I was more than inspired to keep digging.

I don’t think I have ever felt so good about finishing something. Not for a long time anyway. It’s a high that I can’t really describe. I suppose you would have to do something really crazy to understand it. Something like running 9 miles. It’s the same high that I get when I’m standing on pit road at the race track and realize that I’m living my dream… and getting paid to do it. It’s pretty amazing.

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Figuring it Out

I like hard things. If someone tells me that I can’t do something then I just know that I have to do it. Something in my makeup makes it impossible for me not to do it after someone says that. Please, no one ever tell me I can’t go skydiving. I see no reason to jump out of a perfectly good airplane!

And maybe it isn’t the hard things that I enjoy so much as the satisfaction of figuring them out. I love the finish line of a long race or the A on a final exam.

I have been terrified to swim for the longest time. I hate the way I look in a swimsuit, but I also don’t want to put my head in the water. It’s terrible. I am just positive that I am going to drown or something. About 6 months ago my personal trainer encouraged me to start swimming to help my running. I tried everything that I could, but couldn’t make it work. I asked everyone I knew for help and after they stopped laughing, all they could tell me was: you just do it. That didn’t help.

So, I bit the bullet and hired a swimming teacher. One that teaches little kids to swim. Thankfully, she has been very nice. After a few lessons I felt like I was learning things, I had put my head in the water and flopped around a little bit. But I still didn’t have any confidence. I was still sure that as soon as my nose hit the water I would die.

Then, this morning, something changed. I put my head in the water, felt the water in my nose, but didn’t let it go farther than that. I had that moment when it made sense and I made it work. I can see myself making this work. Somehow. I’m sure it will take lots and lots of practice, but I know now that I can do it.

I can do hard things.


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Fear is a terrible, terrible thing. I have learned this the hard way so many times.

I used to be terrified of people in general. The not knowing what they would say to me or if they would accept me or not killed me. I couldn’t bring myself past the fear of the unknown. It took me years to overcome this. At times, I’m still in the process.

I had a dream when I was in high school to move half way across the country and chase race cars. But I was scared. Too many unknowns. Too much to be afraid of. I let it stop me for 10 years. It seems so silly now. Now that I put that fear behind me.

I have this terrible fear of the water now. I have always hated to swim. I attributed it to the fact that I can’t stand the way that I look in a swimming suit, but it turns out that it’s more than that. I spent nearly an hour this morning putting my head in the water, without holding my nose, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t going to die.

You see, I have this overwhelming urge to inhale as soon as my head hits the water. That doesn’t work out very well. But I kept trying, kept doing what my instructor told me:

Kick your legs – Kicking…

Make cups with your hands – trying…

Three strokes and then breathe – 1… 2… 3… GASP…

Relax – Yeah right!!! Maybe if I wasn’t dying!!!

Like I said… fear is a terrible thing. It’s even worse when you can’t control it. I have no idea why I have this problem with water. I have never had a traumatic experience or anything that I can recall. I had all of the normal swimming lessons when I was young. But still, I can’t make my nose do what my head thinks it should.

So, I pushed on anyway, hoping that everything would somehow start working right. I kicked and pulled and tried to breathe. I inhaled some water… more than a little actually. But I didn’t die! And for me, that’s progress.

There was actually some progress. I swam (sort of) with my head in the water, which I never could do before. I have a lot to practice this week and a lot of determination to get me there.

Most of all, I don’t want to wake up one day when I am really old and say that I didn’t do something because I was afraid. It seems like the worst excuse in the world to me. I don’t want to be the person who was too scared to live there life. I would rather die trying than live a hundred years of nothing special.

So I encourage you to jump head first into what you have been too afraid to do as well! Why not? You only have one life. Don’t waste it. Get out there and live!!!

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My life is a constant contradiction. I’ve known this for a while, but it seems to be getting worse.

For starters: I’m a life-long vegetarian (and leaning into veganism) but I don’t really like animals. I don’t really hate them either. I just don’t like them. They are fine outside, in a fence, where I don’t have to touch them or smell them. They are also fine in the wild, where they belong. I just don’t want them in my house.

I have a tendency to be very honest and direct with people, but I don’t like it when people are direct with me. I can dish it out, but I can’t take it. I assume this applies to a lot of people though.

I love fast cars, but I hate to drive. True story.

I work in marketing and I’m not a very social person.

I am highly judgmental, but I don’t like it when people judge me.

No lesson here. Just an observation. The first step is admitting that you have a problem, right?

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Difficult People

I had this job a few years ago at a retail store. It was a brand new store that was just being built and my job was to help fill it with merchandise before opening day. It took six weeks to stock the store. Most of that time was in meetings. We had a morning meeting, a before lunch meeting, an after lunch meeting, an afternoon meeting… It was ridiculous. We had meetings to get ready for meetings to prepare for meetings to talk about other meetings. None of these meetings helped put items on the shelves, which was the whole point of us being there. The whole thing seemed very unproductive to me.

I had this other job where there was a massive communication problem, but it was because of the lack of communication. My boss would tell me one thing and I would do it. While I was doing this thing the plan would change and I wouldn’t get informed. Then, I would get copied on a string of emails from my boss and his boss and clients talking about why I had messed up. After this I would get subjected to a “Why are you so stupid” lecture from my boss. Sometimes he would ask how I made it through college being so dumb. I never could explain it. He could never see that the problem was with his lack of communication, not my intelligence.

If only I were clairvoyant like he assumed that I should be. Even then, I’m sure there would still be a problem and somehow it would be my fault.

How do you work with such people? What baffles me even more is that I always seem to get stuck with the extremely difficult ones. Are there that many impossible people or is God trying to teach me something? I’m not certain.

Even when I was in the first grade I was around the impossible children. We had desks that faced each other. We would move them every 4 to 6 weeks. Mine faced the worst child in the world. He was loud and obnoxious all of the time. I was quiet and patient and shy. So, my teacher tortured me by setting me next to him. We changed desks several times and I always ended up with his desk facing mine.

I finally got the courage to ask the teacher why she was torturing me. She said that I was the only person who did not make this child worse. Somehow my being good turned into a punishment for me.

I still can’t make sense of that.


Follow me everywhere:


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Comfort Zone

Disclaimer: I’m not saying you should do anything that I have done. I’m just telling you my story. 

I ran a 5k yesterday. One would think that 3.1 miles would be enough for one day. But no. I got ambitious and signed up for the 38 mile bike ride as well. I ride 25 miles a few times a week. How much more could 38 be? Turns out… A LOT. 

The 5k went well… for me. I knew what I wanted, so when they said go and everyone left me, I felt bad, but not as bad as if it would have been my first race. This was clearly a race for seasoned athletes, not the newbees like me.

I did see some people that have the same personal trainer that I do, which was good. They are always really nice and it’s nice to have people pulling for you and encouraging you, even if you don’t know them at all. 

After the run I felt really bad. I strongly considered going home. My tummy was struggling and the only option was a porta potty. I HATE those things with a passion. I would drive an hour for a proper bathroom before I went even close to one of those. But I didn’t have that option and I knew I wouldn’t make it through the ride without a bathroom. I can’t even explain how awful it was. It was all I could do not to throw up. I’ll be shocked if I don’t end up with the plague. 

But after that I got some food and water and started feeling better. I got my bike and went and lined up for the ride. There were three rides: 100 miles, 63 miles, and 38 miles. Once I was lined up for the 38 mile ride, which started last, I started looking around. Everyone there had really fancy bikes, like $5,000 to $20,000 fancy. They had all the upgrades: carbon frames, clipless pedals, special seats, aerodynamic helmets, and nice riding kits (outfits with special padding). Then there was me: $600 bike (which is cheap in comparison), aluminum frame (heavier than carbon), regular pedals and tennis shoes, a regular helmet, and riding shorts. Can you say out of place? 

I watched the 100 miles riders take off and the 63 mile riders take off, they were fast. Then our group took off. We rounded the first corner and they were all gone… way ahead of me. 

“What the hell did I get myself into?” 

That was the only thought going through my mind for a while. Well, until the “I can’t do this” started… about mile 8. You see, I like to ride on a greenway, away from cars and away from hills. It’s easier that way. But this course, well, there were cars and there were hills, monster hills. Hills that made grown men cry and give up. To say I was ill prepared would be a massive understatement. 

I stopped many times, sometimes many times on one hill. I seriously thought about giving up before I got to the first rest stop, about 10 miles in. I picked up a SAG rider, who’s job was to pick up the stragglers and provide medical and mechanical support. He almost convinced me to quit. But when I got there and got something to eat and drink, I knew I couldn’t give up. It was hard, but I knew it would be hard. That didn’t mean that I couldn’t do it though, right?

I powered on. The road flattened out quite a bit and the going got a lot easier. They scenery was nice and the houses that we passed were old and really cool looking. I was doing ok for a while. The guy that was with me stopped to help someone else. I wasn’t the worst one off at that point. Somehow, knowing that, made me feel better.

I picked up another SAG guy somewhere along the way. He was really nice. It made the miles a bit easier to talk to someone. We made it to the next rest stop with no problems. However, it got exponentially harder from there. As the miles and the hours passed on, my strength and will to keep going diminished. Somehow I kept making circles with my feet. I have an app called Strava that keeps me updated on how far we had gone. I was so happy to hear 25 miles. Massively overjoyed.

The hills came back before the third rest stop. Oh and it was getting pretty damn hot. At this point we were 6 miles from the end. Six miles? That’s nothing! I can do that in my sleep! I ride 75 to 100 miles a week. Oh but the hills and the heat oh and my legs! They were DYING. My knee gets this tightening in it when I overexert it. It was loosing strength.

I kept hearing my app count down the miles, but ever time that I made it up a hill I could see another one. Every time I thought that we HAD to be getting close we would round another corner and there was still nothing familiar. I walked up a couple of hills, as riders from the 100 mile ride came zooming by. I wanted to cry. I stopped in the middle of a hill and couldn’t breathe. My asthma problems turned into a panic attack. I so wanted to give up.

We are TWO MILES from the end! You CAN’T give up now! That would be just pathetic.

On I pedaled. Up that hill, around another corner and another. Finally, finally something looked familiar. It was highway 115. The campus of Lowe’s headquarters, where we had started, was just beyond the stoplight. We were so close to finished. We weaved our way through the campus to the finish. I have NEVER felt so much relief in my life.

The most amazing thing to me about the whole day was the intense feeling of wanting to give up even when I KNEW how close I was to the finish. It was crazy. Even as I was feeling it I knew it was crazy. Maybe it was the heat or the dehydration or the tiredness… whatever it was, it was bad.

I found out what I was made of out there on that course. I realized how tough I really am . I have no idea why I have to keep proving this to myself over and over again. Something in my makeup makes me do it once in a while.

If you have never done anything like this before I would encourage you to. Jump off of a bridge, go out on a limb… way out. Get outside of your comfort zone. That’s the only place that makes you feel alive. The only place.




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Living the Dream

I love racing. I don’t care where it is or what time it is or if there is anything else going on in the world, I would rather be racing. I seriously skipped out on a friends wedding because it was taking too long and a NASCAR race was about to start. And I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have called in sick because of a rain delay or cars on the track within driving distance of me.

So it’s kinda fitting that I ended up working in the business. Well, to be honest, I actually gave up everything and moved 1,000 miles from home, and worked my ass off, but that’s a different story.

The point is that I am living my dream. Some days it’s wonderful and amazing and awesome! It’s everything that I thought it would be and so much more. It’s so worth all of the sacrifice and being broke and lonely. It’s pure bliss.

But other days… well, other days it isn’t so dreamy. It’s real life. Things are not what I thought they were. People are not what I thought they were (this one is particularly hard for me). The hours are long and the job is demanding. The stress alone makes it hard for me to breathe on a daily basis. Oh… and it rains. It rains when you are not prepared for it, when you went to the track thinking that you were going home the same day and… well… not so much.

I’m learning a lot on this journey, much more than I expected. As I am writing this I am learning how to work in less than favorable conditions. Every time the going gets tough my dad will ask me, “How bad do you want it?”

Let me tell you about my weekend.

It didn’t start too bad actually. I had Friday off. It was the fourth of July after all. My Thursday was a bit difficult because I had to argue with my boss to give me the day off but Friday was good. I slept in, wondered around an antique store for a few hours, and then made it home in time to watch qualifying. First clue for me should have been that it rained during qualifying. Bad!

Then I went for a run, thinking I was going to miss the first half of the Nationwide race. Not so much. Rain delay. I actually went to bed before it was over.

I woke up around 9am Saturday morning. The plane was supposed to leave at 1pm, which meant I had to be on board by noon. When we got to Daytona, and I mean just landed, still on the plane, it started raining. Ugh.

It rained all day. Every once in a while it would stop, like Mother Nature was teasing us. Then it would pour again. Regret started to set in about 6pm. I knew that I should have packed an overnight bag. I knew it!

At 9pm they officially postponed the race until Sunday at 11am. We made the long walk to the car and sat in traffic outside the track for an hour.

Even though my travel buddy and I don’t technically work for a team, we work with one, so they book us rooms. The first ones that they got for us that night literally had cockroaches in them. I’m more of a Hyatt kinda girl, so that was totally unacceptable.

We went to get something to eat just as the restaurant was closing. That made the server real happy… Poor girl.

The next motel was a lot better, even though it was over an hour from the track. I was thankful that we got our keys and went straight to our rooms, unlike the team guys who were in the lobby trying to get their room situation sorted out. It was 1:30am at this point.

Again I can hear my dad, “How bad do you want it?”

We slept fast and were on the road by 8am. The garage opened at 9am. Thankfully we had the driver at the car at 10:45am. The green flag was delayed a bit, but we finally saw it at 11:30am.

Our driver made it past a 16 car wreck early and then through a 26 car wreck later, after a couple of rain delays. Unfortunately we had a miscommunication and ended up 8 laps down. It was a very unfortunate miscommunication.

Finally the heavy rain came and they called the race. It was well past half way and therefore official. But like I said, the heavy rain came. We were in the media center… a long way from the car. In the rain. Needless to say I am wet from my head to my toes. My shoes squish when I walk.


Then, we pull up to the airport only to find out that our plane has been delayed 2 hours.


Our driver wants to have dinner and my travel buddy cannot tell him no. He doesn’t know how. So off we go to find some grub. Of course they have a place picked out. When we pull up there are people fighting in the parking lot, throwing punches at each other. When we get inside I quickly notice the servers have little clothing on. So NOT my kind of place.

I chose to spend my plane delay starving in the FBO. It was so much better.

So, here I am, on the floor of the FBO, wet from head to toe, somehow, finding the concentration and desire to write rather than cry. I could seriously cry right now. Unfortunately when you are an adult you don’t have that luxury anymore.

“How bad do you want it?”

The good thing is – tomorrow I will be ready to go to the track again. Tomorrow… when I am dry and comfortable and not hungry. Tomorrow

For now, its ok that I’m not ok. It’s ok that I’m miserable and grumpy. Rain delays suck. Plane delays suck too. You have bad days… even when you are living the dream.


Follow me everywhere:

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Down Days

I’m not going to lie… living the dream has it’s good days. Some very good days to be exact. On Saturday I will be going to Daytona, for the second time this year, to watch a race. And I’m getting paid to do so. That’s a great day. Even if the plane crashes, it’s still a good day.

But today? Today is not a good day. I dealt with a disaster for one of our clients first thing this morning. Then I sorted through 200 t-shirts, one by one, because they were printed incorrectly.

There are a million little things running through my head that are trying to get the best of me…

My car payment, my rent payment, another holiday tomorrow… alone, running a 5k next week that I am so not prepared for and, as always, there’s this guy.

Any other day I would be worried that I’m not ok today. But I am trying to embrace a new philosophy that it is ok to not be ok some days. On these not ok days we fix the things that we can… I’m hungry and tired and in need of a break. And try not to worry about the things that we cant…

You are where you’re supposed to be.

At these times I have to think back to so many places I’ve been and didn’t know why I was there. But later, sometimes much later, it all made perfect sense.

Here’s to hoping that someday this will make sense too.