Paul Foster writes...
>Mary Rice had an even worse grimace but she could
>manage to go from complete calm to road warrior in
>about .5 seconds. Now that was
>scary...
Totally reminds me...
I forgot to tell y'all about a dream come true that happened last Fall. Mary
Rice (she's got a new last name now) and her husband (shows how much I pay
attention) brought out some Lola whatever. It's like a million dollar car,
but I forgot what it's called. Mary hadn't been out in years, and most
people had no idea about her legendary status.
We got to make some fun runs, and I thought now would be the perfect time to
show Mary how much I've improved. I wisely didn't let her drive my car,
after my last John Havranek mistake - same intentions, bad results - he beat
me, first time in the car. No way was I going to let that happen again.
There was another subconscious motive. Mary was known for being really
intense, when she competed. In most other instances, I'd have to say she was
one of the nicest people I knew. She always took the time to talk to us
kids, like we were REAL people. She didn't talk in that condescending voice
like other grown ups do. I remember at an autocross school, though, when I
first started, she WASN'T my teacher. I was sad, but relieved, because I
could hear her voice from the other side of the parking lot yelling, "Go go
go!"
It's like you pay all this money to learn technique, and you get this one
command: GO! Simplicity at its finest.
Okay, so fifteen years later, here's Mary Rice. "Mary will you ride with
me?"
"Sure, Katie."
Now here's the thing. Arie Villasol had just made a fun run, and beat my
final official run. So, as we were sitting in Lucy, I was growling to
myself, "Mary, I HATE losing."
That's not true, but I was just trying to show off, like, "Look how intense
I am, Mary."
She sat in the passenger seat, growling too. "Oh, believe me. I hate losing,
too."
Only she really meant it! This was a race we HAD to win.
Now, I had totally mentally supressed her reputation as an animal. I thought
that since it had been so long, she'd just be entertained or something.
Anyway, boy was I shocked when we got the green flag. The screaming was
instantaneous. "Go go go!"
This wasn't some shallow, dainty, "Go." It came from deep within her heart.
I was driving, but she was the soul of that run. By the time we finished (I
went about a full second faster than my final official run, WITH a
passenger, and I think it was out of FEAR), I was completely drained. I was
shaking uncontrollably, and so was she! All I could do was laugh.
"Wow, that was GREAT!" she said. It was like it was the best run of her
life, and she wasn't even driving. Talk about intense. Afterwards, we just
both sat in the car with the giggles.
Fifteen years I waited for that. It was worth it.
Katie K.
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