People often ask me what it’s like seeing your name in the paper or reading an article about yourself.
The honest answer is that I do enjoy it.
When I first see the article, or spot my picture on the page, I smile. It’s a nice feeling because someone has recognised what you’ve achieved. Motorsport News covering my debut at Zandvoort or writing about a race win means a lot because it reflects the hard work put in by so many people around me.
The strange thing is that the feeling only lasts as long as it takes me to read the article.
Once I’ve finished reading it, it’s done.
That probably sounds odd, but that’s just how my brain works. The article is about something I’ve already done. It’s now part of my history, and while I respect history, I don’t think you can live in it.
I remember saying something similar to one of my history teachers at school. History is fascinating because you can learn so much from it, but while you’re looking backwards, life is still happening in front of you. Racing feels exactly the same.
I’ll read the article once, appreciate it and then my mind almost immediately starts thinking about the next race, the next test or the next thing I need to learn. Dad laughs because my smile quickly turns into a scowl, but it’s not because I’m unhappy. It’s because my head has already moved on.
The same thing happens with trophies.
I’m proud of every one I’ve won because I know what they represent, but I don’t spend much time looking at them afterwards. To me, they’re a reminder of something that happened, not something that’s still happening. The memories and lessons are far more important than the trophy itself.
I think that’s one of the biggest things motorsport has taught me. Success is brilliant, but it doesn’t last forever. Another race is always around the corner, another challenge is waiting and there’s always something you can improve.
That’s probably why I enjoy writing these Notebook articles so much.
They aren’t there for me to relive old results. They’re there to capture what I was thinking and what I was learning at that point in time. The result might become history, but the lesson stays with me.
So yes, I like seeing my picture in the paper.
I like reading the article.
I smile.
Then I turn the page, get back to work and try to write the next headline.
