Oh, I'd never let myself get into THAT situation ... - UPDATED

Not that long ago Tom over at Adrenaline told me about the racing school he'd attended at Road Atlanta.

The gist of his point was this: By the time you realize you're going too fast into a turn it's already too late to try slowing down by slamming on the brakes. Your only option is to stand on the accelerator and keep steering through the turn. Sounds simple, right?

Doesn't it?

Tom said try doing it when you hit the turn clocking 100 miles an hour: your fingers feel like they'll splinter the steering wheel between your knuckles. You've got to force your foot away from the brakes and onto the gas pedal to keep from spinning out ... any maybe doing the Flaming Bondo Tango with a retaining wall.

As recently as a few months ago I trusted "self control" and believed in "lines" ... a certain point separating what was "okay" and what was "out of bounds." Keeping an eye on the "line" without crossing it was supposed to keep things "safe."

For example, sitting on the couch with your new honey in front of the TV with all the lights off, you know what line not to cross, right? So long as we remember the line means Everybody Keeps Their Clothes On and Their Hands to Themselves then there's no chance of ever getting in trouble, right?

No, not right at all.

Eventually even I figured out voluntary lines are risky, even when you know where they are, because lines quickly blur and lose focus the faster you're racing toward them. The only solution I know is to completely, totally and absolutely avoid any scenario or situation with the potential to suddenly pick up speed and create its own momentum.

Stumbling is only the first part of a fall: it's actually the momentum created by your direction and velocity that sends you sprawling toward the nearest hard surface and makes catching yourself before hitting the ground almost impossible.

Trusting arbitrary lines to keep your revs below the redline might be a very bad idea because self-imposed lines ignore momentum.

It's like the guy in his boat out sightseeing on the Niagara River. He sees the sign along the shore warning him "Danger: Waterfall Ahead" He should never have allowed himself to get carried along far enough to see the sign in the first place but he's not worried ... because lines are for other people.

He's just out to have a good time and trusts his own boundaries, the mental reference points where he'll have as much fun as he wants to and then magically stop and turn himself around.

But soon as he reaches his self-imposed stopping point he discovers to his horror that a river dumping 600,000 gallons of water per second over a waterfall creates a terrifically strong current and carries a whole lot more momentum than he expected. He can't believe he's been trapped by the current and realizes he's made an Awfully Bad Mistake. But the river neither cares or notices.

Captain Confident is left with surprisingly little time for self-pity before the river (which he never noticed was flowing at the same speed and in the same direction the whole time) flings his flimsy boat backwards over the falls.

Yet the surprised look on his face in the millisecond before his boat begins its smashing affair with the rocks waiting 1200 feet below tells us he's truly shocked that such a thing could happen. Hadn't he tried stopping at the line?

Having a "stopping point" didn't do him any good because the current already had momentum moving beneath him soon as he put his boat in the current ... and long before before he reached the first Danger sign. He crossed the line and found he could no longer stop.

It's like that voice inside your head teasing, But you want to ... and nobody's ever gonna find out. Just do it.

By the time that voice pops up you've already passed 100 heading into the corner, and forgotten there's a terrifically immoveable concrete wall ahead ready to bounce that momentum back in your direction.