| June 2002 "The Prospect" By: Travis Pastrana IF YOU READ MY COLUMN a few issues ago about supercross not being fun, I may have left you with the wrong impression about my current mindset. Many people have approached me since reading that article. Everyone implies that I will begin winning again when I start having fun. I am having fun! But it's not that simple. I believe a true champion never gives up and finds a way to overcome any obstacle. After throwing up in my helmet and not having the energy to pull the clutch in Atlanta, I was forced to quit before the halfway mark. I should have stayed at home that weekend, but I couldn't imagine not being at the race. Everyone who saw me at the race understood why, but I have never been more disappointed in myself. It seemed as though I had fallen short on my greatest belief. After sleeping through most of the following week I felt ready to ride Daytona. What I failed to realize was that lying in bed for two weeks before the most grueling race of the season made winning next to impossible. I started seeing spots from exhaustion b the seventh lap of my Daytona heat race, and I knew it was going to be a tough main event. I rigged up a CD player to my back that EVS made for me to practice with earlier in the week -- music keeps me motivated and relaxed. I even told me mechanic, Lee, to have water ready for me in the closing laps. He laughed but knew I was serious. The pace was much slower than that of a normal supercross. Even with everyone pacing themselves, however, I was already tiring by lap 4. The flu had taken every bit of my energy, and my body was worn down. By lap eight I couldn't hear the music (or anything else), and my vision was getting narrow. I was still genuinely convinced that I could win, and after embarrassing myself by quitting in Atlanta, I just kept riding. I remembered how discouraged I was when heroes growing up would let themselves fade to the back of the pack. Maybe I could have made a better judgement call, but I pushed until I blacked out. Next thing I remembered, I was lying on a stretcher on the Daytona Infield. Dr. John Bodnar, who has a broken leg, was asking me if I could remember what happened. After a brief look around I discouragingly said, "yeah, I crashed again." Then, to my surprise, John said, "No, you just rode over the berm and fell off your bike." Surprisingly I felt better around myself leaving the race with an IV and a pounding headache than I did after pulling off the week before. As it looks at the time I'm writing this column, I will be taking a race or two off to get healthy. I have worn my body down too far, and until I get healthy, it's impossible to train hard enough to make it worthwhile. This is the longest time period in my life that I have remained winless. I will be back, and I have never wanted to win more than I do now. When you come up to me and ask why I don't think racing is fun 100 percent of the time, think about this: Challenges are fun when you overcome them; riding is fun if you're not ring with a painful injury; racing is fun until you're so tired you piss yourself and wake up with an IV; training is fun until you push yourself to the absolute limit every single day. The unfortunate reality is that all of these issues will present themselves every week, sometimes every day, for an entire season. I have more fun riding a motorcycle than you could ever imagine, but I stand by m last article when I say, "Supercross is not fun." Good luck, and I’ll see you at the races. |