Anxiety: The Apex Predator

A Personal Piece About my Motorsport Journey

When I started my journey into motorsports journalism, I wasn’t expecting there to be a mental toll. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that it was going to be hard and that I was going to have to be dedicated and diligent in my work, but the mental load it takes is on a whole other level. Day in and day out you see other journalists work, or social media and you question your ability. You wonder why you even thought you had a chance at “making it” in the industry. I say this while not even scratching the surface of “success”.

You start, and continue your journey at my local motorsport campus. You walk up to the track and see all the cars whipping past and you finally feel like you are walking up to your destiny. You smell the overheated brakes, and feel the sweltering sun beating off the tarmac. However, your stomach is churning. You feel the familiar creep of anxiety wiggling its way from your stomach, to your chest, and then into your throat. The all to well-acquainted feeling of being a failure. Here you stand, in a crowd of people who don’t know your name, who don’t know your “independent motorsport news source” and you think to yourself “what the hell am I doing here?” You praise whatever being is out there that your mom is willing to be out here with you. However, that adds another layer of insecurity of “what if they don’t take me seriously because ‘I need my mommy’? You quickly shake the thought because honestly, you don’t give a fuck. All it takes is a step, or maybe in your case, a leap.

You pull your camera up, and start taking pictures, suffocating your worries into hundreds of pictures. Some good, some bad, and a few that are amazing. You take another step, and start speaking to a couple drivers in a terrible shaky-breathed interview, but you did it! You did the interview. You can finally breathe, and walk back to the car feeling accomplished and realize everyone starts somewhere. You may start lower, or behind someone else, but at least you are fucking trying. It’s more than a lot of people can say.

You start again, the same track, same event. Again, no one recognizes you. Not that you expected them too, but you understand that you will have to start the process of swallowing that anxiety, and fighting with yourself to not turn around and go home. You fight with your head, knowing it would be easier to go home, invest in your 9-5 job, make dinner, maybe play some video games, go to sleep, go to work, repeat. It would be so easy and so unfulfilling. So instead, you go forth. You pull your camera up, hiding behind it, and take hundreds of photos. You also begin to take notes so that eventually you do a write-up of the day, except on this day instead of going to talk to drivers a man walks up to you. This man speaks to you all about the campus, his cars, his YouTube channel, and shows you a garage full of exotic cars. Some names you haven’t even heard. Some cars you could only dream about seeing in real life. In your nervousness, the pictures you take are terrible. But instead of hiding behind your camera, you talk to the man. You finally “get it”. Something clicks inside your head. It becomes easier. You understand you shouldn’t hide away, and once again, expect great things to happen to you if you don’t just reach out and take it. The man, who calls himself Kasey, also takes you around/drifts a lap at the autocross course. This is the moment that you have been wishing for. To not feel like an outsider to the track’s culture. To feel like you do have a chance at making something of yourself. You thank Kasey profusely, and hope to have found a friend.

The next time you go to the track, your new friend isn’t there, but there are many opportunities to make more but you don’t take them (? I don’t understand this sentence). The rush of feeling like you will make it big begins to fade, and it’s back to the drawing board. You take many photos again, but once you start to head home you realize that you’ve done it again; hid away from the hard “things.” You kick yourself and tell yourself, next time you must talk to people. You must report on what you are actually seeing. You’re not a photographer, although at this point you think it would be easier, but you don’t want to do or be the easy thing. You make a plan for next time; you will speak to the drivers; and speak to track officials. That this is just the first step in accomplishing your dreams.

At this point, you realize this journey is tumultuous and twisty. You don’t know where you will end up, but you know it will be worth it in the end. You must keep pushing. When something feels hard, you know you are going in the right direction.

Special thanks to Utah Motorsport Campus for allowing me to be at your events. Thank you to my mom for always coming with me, and supporting my wildest dreams. Also thank you to Kasey for showing me around, and unknowingly lifting my confidence.