In the last few weeks, the concept of risk versus reward have become seriously tested. Is the reward of that cheeseburger that you’ve been missing worth the risk of the sickness? It’s a radical and recent form, but the concept of risk vs. reward happens daily in our lives. More often than not, individuals are capable of making safe, sane choices that will mitigate the risk and provide an ample reward in the end. But racing…face it, that’s a purely selfish thing. The risk can be high. It cam be mitigated, as many accidents that have the “…and they walked away” tagline have proven. It doesn’t mean that things won’t happen. It doesn’t mean that you can’t be injured or killed. It doesn’t mean that the time, energy, money and effort that you put into this hobby that we enjoy can’t be wiped out with one solid impact.
Recently, I’ve started shopping around for firesuits and racing gear that I’ve never bought before for future endeavours and it’s raised an eyebrow or two. Do I race enough to need it? Debatable. Do I plan to race in a place where I need it? Yes. Is it worth the cost? Any safety gear becomes invaluable the moment after you could’ve used it but didn’t have it, y’know? And that brings up the whole concept of racing itself. My grandfather worried when I told him I was racing…and that was when I was running 17-second quarters on a test-and-tune night every now and then. Imagine what he’d think if I told him that I was going to take the car I drive normally and go do…oh, I don’t know, 170 or so?
I spent ten years putting myself in positions of extreme danger and near-death experiences. I can justify racing every day of the week. But what about those who are wondering why you would put everything on the line for a speed rush? What do you tell them?
I do not try and explain. I just say it is a hobby. People who don’t race don’t usually understand. I have been 195 mph in my stock body mustang @ Ohio ECTA (Lohnes can vouch for me) and I sometime don’t understand why I do it either. Thousands of dollars in safety gear that you hope you never need is hard to take. Unless of course you need it.
Though I know in the back of my mind that something bad very well could happen, I have tried to minimize the risk, the safety equipment in my car and on my body, exceed what is required by NHRA for my class. I just hope that if and when that something bad does happen, I make the right decisions to keep my competitors, the spectators and myself safe.