Closing Chapter

Note: This blog is not in chronological order. Sorry for the delay.

At Right: Me in one of Ryan Hunter-Reay's cars at Watkins Glen on the 4th of July.

I’ll admit it. I wept like a baby. I’m sure I got more snot on t-shirts and polos of my hugging victims than Slimer achieved in the entire Ghostbuster movie pantheon.

But it was the last one. The last race and I was leaving my friends, my job and what I had come to find as my comfort zone.

If I’ve learned one thing about myself, it is that if I flourish somewhere, you will have to pull me kicking and screaming away from it. Or, in this case, slobbering like a weepy St. Bernard.

And I felt like a valuable person while working at the race track – I understood my role, I generally knew what was going on and I was contributing. All those little things that add up to being successful.

I also met people who understood what it meant to work ridiculous hours for minuscule pay, spending weeks and weeks away from loved ones, and still be happy with their job. I define myself by my work, whether good or bad, and I think I saw a lot of that in my co-workers.

I feel like I’m this close to not having to describe myself as a “freelance journalist.” Which is another reason why the race season ended too soon.

So, I’ll add another line to the resume, send some e-mails, make more phone calls and, when the time comes that I need to move on, I’ll always have the 2008 IRL season.
And I can say, “I worked for ESPN.”