"This is the worst idea, ever. Colossally bad."
Those are the words of my Nurse Practitioner, not my Doctor. My Doctor said that he thought it was a brave choice of pursuits at my age, but his NP, Karen ... I can always trust her to give me the non-sugary, unsweetened version of what's in her head. And, when I told her that I was returning to motocross after 25 years, that was her response. "... Colossally bad." Phhhfffttt ... never mind my feelings, Karen!
You see, sometimes in life we get ourselves into places that we shouldn't be, simply by running our mouth without first filtering the sludge and slurry that's roasting inside our brains. This was one of those times.
I went riding on my farm with my decades-long buddy, (and the guy who taught me how to race motocross), Mark Coffman. We'd ridden a bunch of my woods trails and stopped for a breather and to shoot the breeze. That's when I said it -- a statement that would change the entire next year of my life completely:
"You know, I've been thinking that I'd like to Race the Missouri State Motocross Series next Summer."
Wait ... what?! Did I just say that out loud? Have I really been thinking that, or did the thought just then pop into my head and blurt out of my fat mouth? As I sat there reeling, caught in an internal back-and-forth of determining when I might've had these thoughts in the past, my train of thought was interrupted with the realization that Mark was saying something ...
"... like to qualify for Loretta's."
"Wait, you what?"
"It's just funny that you said that, because I've been thinking a lot lately about trying to qualify for the AMA Nationals at Loretta Lynn's. I don't even care if I win. I just want to get the hole shot and know that I can still be the first to the first turn!"
So, whatever was plaguing my brain was obviously very contagious and had just spread to Mark!
I looked at him for a moment, thought about how old I've been feeling lately - how just getting out of bed in the morning is a painful challenge - and then it hit me! "Let's do it!"
Mark chuckled, "Let's do what?"
"Let's race the State Series AND let's qualify for Loretta's! They've got the Old Man's class, right? Plus-50?"
"Well yeah, it's called +50 Vet Masters, but I wouldn't count on it being a bunch of slow, old men! Those guys can fly!"
"I can fly. I mean, I used to. Hell, I raced the State Series a few years back."
"Wasn't that 2001?"
"Yeah, that sounds right."
"Next season is 2026 ... that's a QUARTER CENTURY ago!"
"Pointing that out is a total dick move."
Upon mentioning this effort to my DealerNews Magazine Editor, Robin Hartfiel, the idea was spawned to cover this mid-life crisis return to racing through a series of magazine columns, as well as filming a video documentary series so that other people could live it with us. For some reason, I said yes to all of this! Temporary insanity, perhaps?
And so, here we are. Less than two months have passed at my writing of this and we've formed Two Old Guys Racing, LLC, (2OG); we've gotten sponsors; decided to use ChatGPT to help design a new practice track; we're planning to take on a line of motorcycles to sell through Mark's dealership and I'm finding myself eating salads and working out, jogging and riding every-other day.
And frankly, I have no idea how I got here. I blame my mouth, but between there and here, it's all a blur.
So, welcome to the journey of two old Gen-X motocross guys, setting out to finish the unfinished business of our youth. We're ready to again feel the rush of revving engines waiting for a gate to drop; breathing in that beloved smell of burning race gas, the exhilaration of the start and the complete exhaustion of driving home after a hard-fought two-moto day. And all of this, knowing that it's gonna take twice as long for our muscles, (and any other inured body parts) to heal.
The only question in my mind is, WTF is wrong with us?!
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