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When Chris is done with the ride, he pulls over. I’ve just gotten whipped around. My heart is still pounding when he turns to me and says, “In two days’ time, you’ll be doing this too.”
I think,yeah right. I think,there isn’t anything I’d rather be doing.I think,I’m going to die.I think,so what?
Chris looks serious. “There’s one thing you need to know to be really good. In order to be a good driver, there’s one skill above all else. And if you don’t get it, you’re going to crash and burn.”
“What’s that?”
“You must learn how to come out of a spin.”
“Come out of a spin. Okay.”
“Because what’ll happen is you’ll be driving along and even if you’re doing everything right, somebody else is going to screw up and it’s going to affect you. They’re going to break up in front of you and you’re going to have to figure out how to get around it. Or there will be oil up ahead that’s slick and you won’t see it and you’ll spin out of control.”
“Spin out of control. Right.” I had a hard time keeping up with him. He talks as fast as he drives.
“You have to figure out how to turn it around.”
I nod. He looks at me as though what he’s saying might be going in one ear and out the other. Like he’s been talking to my ex-wife.
“You can’t merely react. You have to be in charge.”
“Got it. Be in charge.”
“Look, if you’re going to be successful as a driver, you’ve got to come out of the spin and I’m going to show you how it works. I’m going to put you in a spin car.”
Chris extricates himself from the car and helps me out. He heads toward the building and gestures for me to follow.
He opens the garage door and shows me another car inside. It looks beat to hell. “Sit down in this thing,” he tells me, holding the door open. “Look what I’ve got in my hand here.”
He showed me a small device with four buttons.
“Four buttons,” I say blankly. “What do they do?”
He shoves it closer. I feel the color drain from my face. I’m hoping he’s not going to blow the car up. “So when we’re driving, at any moment, I can push any one of these four buttons and it will lift the wheel that relates to that part of the car and we will spin out of control in that direction.”
Is he for real? Forty-five minutes ago I was sitting alone in my dark office thinking of different ways to kill myself and now this.
“I’m not going to push the button when you’re ready for it. I’m not going to make it convenient. Because that’s not how it works in racing. You’re not ready when it happens to you. You’re never ready.”
He climbs in the passenger seat after strapping me in the harness and we drive. I go around and around the track. At least twenty times. I’m thinking,okay I’m ready. Go ahead and push the button. But then I remember he hasn’t actually told me what I’m supposed to do when he pushes it. And when I look over at him, he’s grinning because he realizes this too.
I slow the car and say, “What do I do when I get caught in the spin?”
He nods proudly. “There’s only one thing you have to remember. Focus on where you want to go and steer that way.”
“Steer that way,” I repeat.
“What are you most afraid of?”
“Dying?”
“You’re most afraid of hitting the wall.”
“Right.”
“Don’t focus on what you fear. You know where all the walls are. If you look at what you’re afraid of, you’ll literally steer into it.”
“Don’t look at the walls.”
