Why Racing Drivers See Life Differently

I remember Martin Brundle talking about a special moment he had in racing. It wasn’t about a particular event, winning or flow - it was just about a moment his memory has captured that stays with him.

He was talking about going down the hanger straight, a late afternoon in summer. One of those perfect summer days where there’s no chance of weather problems and everything is perfect.

I remember him describing this innocuous moment in a car, because I relate absolutely with what he’s talking about.

When I think back to karting, I always remember a snapshot of racing at Kimbolton heading down the back straight. A Sunday afternoon, blue sky in summer and the sun is starting to get a bit lower in the sky. My little 100cc motor singing and everything being serene.

I don’t know what position I was in, there were no karts close to me. It was just a moment of perfection. The machine is flying, there are no obstacles to slow you down because you are blasting down the straight, you are deafened by the motor so there are no distractions.

It’s what I imagine those sensory deprivation tanks are like where people report feeling like they are floating in space. But the racing version is that your senses are all delighted and perfectly satisfied because you are flying along in perfect weather, with a perfect engine and the scene is beautiful.

Both Silverstone from Brundle’s experience and Kimbolton my own are both on airfield circuits in flat landscapes, so you get a feel for open space and total freedom which definitely enhances the memory I have. It’s a bit of magic

I reckon we’ve all had these kinds of experiences, Senna famously got right into it and talked about his transformational experience of being close to God at Monaco. I think we all instantly relate to that too, even if you don’t buy into religion at all, we all know exactly what he’s going on about.

There’s a feeling of perfection that we’ve all touched in racing, it doesn’t have to be related to flow and exceptional performance, or perfect driving skills or anything like that. You may have been lit, maybe not. But the world feels perfect.

Now, this may be experienced in other activities - people bang on about it with all kinds of sports, BUT I believe in racing its a bit more unique because we are flying along at speed, in peril and deafened by a screaming engine, and feeling perfect.

Now, although it is like a religious experience and maybe it is a religious experience without ‘religion’ being involved, it doesn’t turn us all into tranquil Buddhist monks.

Often quite the opposite happens.

Have you ever been woken up in the middle of an absolute cracker of a dream and felt extreme anger? Like ‘you bastard, I was having this dream, it was mint!’

When an engine pops or you get taken out of a race, and you are in that kind of perfect moment, I bet you don’t get all magnanimous and grateful for the experience. No, you do your nut…. like this maybe:

Hunt losing the plot while he comes back to earth (IMO)

It’s like you have been pulled out of a perfect world where everything is in perfect order, you are in exactly the right place and some SOB has rudely dragged you out of it, and you are suddenly exposed to the shocking place we call the world. And it’s bloody awful. From bliss to banality in an instant.

James Hunt had a number of these moments where he seems to be caught in an overlap between two worlds and doesn’t know how to behave in this one! But in that racing dimension he could be everything, strategic, animalistic, aggressive yet intelligent. The whole combination of instinct and human endeavour happening at once - then bang, he’s furious and facing some poor bloke in orange trying to control him!

Yeah Yeah, All Very Nice - So What!?