Racing

I miss racing at the elite level.
When you have a team of professionals backing you. Making the bike whatever you tell them to. The pressure and expectations make me demand the best from myself.
I am not sure if I ever hit the big time racing motorbikes or if the big time hit me. But it is cool to look back and know I was there. It means little now but in those intense moments it meant a lot and I reckon there is some pride but more so a feeling of satisfaction in making the most I could with what I had. Perhaps I could have made it last longer than a brief flicker but the experience was impactful and I learned a lot. I am not very diplomatic and often find my self opting to do things alone on my own terms but having to write press reports about a bike when the only words in my head were: Bag of dicks or finding people to trust with my life that may or may not have given two shits and a pop corn fart about me was a way to learn more about myself than ever possible had I never gone beyond driving around the county in a clapped out 4 door sedan with my race bike disassembled in the back seat. Shit, that was only 15 years ago and here I am sounding all washed up.
Maybe I am just feeling a lack of youth. My hair on top of my head fell out... boo fucking hoo! The not having any racing plans I think is what is making my a cry baby little bitch. The big enduro race I overalled last year supposed to be this weekend just got "postponed", The fist CHCA race where I was to maiden voyage my race car next weekend as well, The Dick Mann Classic motocross I so enjoyed last year has been cancelled. I am expecting more bad news and much tougher times to come but despite this sob story rant, trust me, I am keeping very positive and know that only positivity can create positive outcomes.  And we are in a "Pandemic", people are dying, financials are fuct... I must be a huge narcist but whatever. I feel like a cart with no wheels. I need to race. I am here to race.