Three months after our meeting, the Canadian endured a
brutal crash at Pocono, causing widespread major injuries. That Wickens
survived at all is a testament to both his fitness and the safety measures
implemented within Indycar. That he and fiancé Karli Woods have openly shared
online their determined journey to overcome the spinal cord injury he sustained
is a testament to something far stronger.
The extraordinary courage and attitude Wickens displays to
his paraplegia has rightly earned him massive respect and made him an
inspiration to many people over the past year. On a personal level, myself very
much included. During the off season the real reason behind my joked about
bionic leg, a not quite so funny incurable genetic disorder, went into
overdrive. And, as my own body fell apart, I found that each new social media
update from Robbie not only reassured and amazed me about his own recovery, but
also offered a fresh injection of encouragement in fighting my own battles too.
I’ll openly admit to many ‘leaky eyed’ moments during those
months. Some from pain and anger at my own situation, but many more from sheer
pride and respect for Wickens. My frustrations at having to cancel longed for
trips to races, only tempered by my delight at seeing the much-loved Arrow
Schmidt Peterson driver returning to the paddock. His achievements spurring the
growing need deep within me to get back to my ‘Indycar family’ as soon as
possible.
In many ways, Wickens unknowingly became an extra driving
force behind my determination. So, when the unexpected, last-minute opportunity
to attend Toronto presented itself, I grabbed it with both hands. After all, what better
place to return than at my ‘hero's’ home race? Yes, it was risky and probably not
the most sensible thing to do and yet, somehow, it made perfect sense. I won’t
pretend I wasn’t scared as I boarded the plane just six days after receiving
permission to fly again, but I figured if Robbie can do this, then I sure as
hell can too. Any lingering fears and doubts vanishing completely as I read, through
yet more leaky eyes, that he would in fact be returning to the track that
weekend, driving a pace lap in an adapted Acura NSX.
It may sound rather trite, but that’s when I knew for
certain this trip was meant to be.
As soon as I arrived at the track, the tidal wave of emotions
hit me. The unusual indoor paddock set-up at Exhibition Place seeming to
intensify the unique sights, sounds and smells I’d missed so much. Stepping
inside, I stopped after only a few paces, closing my eyes and breathing it all
in. A big grin spreading across my face as I whispered, “I’m home’. The warm
welcomes, far beyond my wildest imagination, from friends both old and new, fully
cementing that feeling.
Toronto more than delivered the ‘therapy’ I needed. Even
before on-track action began, fate had us in the right place at the right time.
Standing in an almost deserted facility on the Thursday evening, we were
privileged to watch Robert Wickens take his first few test laps around the
circuit in the hand controlled NSX. In that moment, all the pain, effort and
hurdles we’d overcome to get there just melted away – it was already worth it.
As the weekend progressed, yes, my body suffered, but it
didn’t matter because my heart and soul were happy. I ‘danced’ with delight
during first practice, soaking up that indescribable feeling only race cars
create, the one I’d been aching for. I savoured every moment of track action I
could. I watched qualifying from the pit lane in awe of my incredible friends,
experiencing the intricacies of this sport I adore. I smiled and laughed so
much my face hurt. I was back where I belonged; back in my happy place.
Just as Wickens was behind the wheel of his car on that
Sunday afternoon.
I felt genuinely honoured to be on the grid before the race,
standing alongside a very special gold and black #6 Acura as Robbie and Karli
prepared for their pace-lap. The atmosphere was electric, crackling with pure,
raw emotion, as they took to the track. The crowd’s cheers only matched by our
tears. Judging from her reaction and screams, Karli might not be quite so
willing to go along for the ride next time, but I know this is only the start
of the journey for Robbie. And, as they pulled back into the pits ahead of the
race, I thought my heart may burst with love and respect for the man who was,
unwittingly, partly responsible for me being there to witness it.
The race was, as ever, kind of bittersweet, being both the
focus and climax of the weekend. That odd mixture of emotions - excitedly watching
the battles play out, willing your drivers to the best result, but conversely
not wanting the chequered flag to fall on another race. Strangely though, after
celebrating the podium, I was still feeling on a real high. The wave of ‘damn,
it’s all over’ being held at bay somehow, as we soaked up the paddock one last
time and bade our farewells to colleagues.
I had of course seen Wickens several times throughout the
event but, despite my desire to thank him for inspiring me to be there, I’d not
spoken to him. Mostly through respect and not wanting to intrude, understanding
how exhausting it is being in such ‘great demand’ by the media and public
alike. While saying goodbye to some friends within the team after the race
though, the unexpected opportunity arose to offer my ‘thank you’.
Inevitably, I froze. An irrational fear of talking to people
overwhelming me, even though I knew I’d regret it forever if I didn’t say
something. As I struggled to gather my thoughts and find some scrap of courage,
Wickens just happened to make eye contact with me, a warm, welcoming smile
across his face. It was just what I needed in that moment. I then regrettably
garbled my way through thanking him for inspiring and helping me to get to
Toronto, unsure which of us was more embarrassed as I did so.
Thankfully things did improve from there, leading to a short
conversation that will stay with me for many reasons - not least being dared to
sit on the CN Tower’s glass floor! (Yes, I did and yes it was terrifying!) Of
all the things we could have discussed that day though, the price of air fares
from the UK and Indy respectively wasn’t one I’d ever have expected.
Ironically, what Wickens doesn’t realise is that the ‘price’ I paid, both
financially and physically, was totally worth every single penny and hour of
pain and recovery. In fact, I’d happily pay double for what I gained on that
trip.
I needed it all even more than I’d first realised. But
perhaps, if I’m honest, the part I gained the most from was that unexpected
chat after the race. In just a few precious words Robert Wickens gave me
everything I needed and more. Much more than any doctor or medicine ever has or
could, sending me home with the gift of positive thinking and the determination
to focus on the team’s motto – Always Forward. Just like my hero.
