A Year Of Loss

A year ago as now I'd just returned from a hectic but fulfilling few weeks working on a writing project incredibly close to my heart and excitedly planning for projects ahead. As I'd boarded the train back however, I had a strange, unsettling sense that the world was starting to shift somehow.... Of course in that moment I had no idea it would actually be my last train journey, and I certainly never imagined just how much life, indeed the world, was about to change. 

In the months that followed that trip, my wings began to get clipped, and, sadly, things just plummeted downhill from there. 

You see, even before the Corona virus fully hit, my life had started to be turned upside down; from a combination of family bereavement and ill health, personal trauma and upheaval, lost trusts, broken promises and plans, devastating betrayals and a whole heap of unexpected stress. Not to mention the soul destroying consequences of arrogant, selfish actions and inactions alongside my own spiralling medical issues, as my body continues to fail me in ways I'm still trying to comprehend and adjust to.

In reality, Covid-19 was just the very unpleasant icing on top of a large mouldy cake, as I was already damaged, withdrawn and isolated by the time lockdown happened. My complex genetic conditions and increasing health problems put me at extreme risk from the corona virus though, so I pretty much became a prisoner in my home at that point. I genuinely haven't been over the door since February now, which is taken a heavy toll mentally. Especially with no end in sight, as my region heads into further lockdown and restrictions amid rising infection and death rates. It doesn't exactly help seeing some people I thought better of using status, money and 'couldn't care less about anyone but myself' attitudes to constantly deny and/or break safety guidelines either.

If I'm brutally honest, I'm struggling on a lot of levels for many reasons right now. And I'm unashamed to admit that I've been to some extremely dark places over the past few months too. Again not helped at all by being treat like worthless 'collateral damage' by people I've trusted, respected and given so much to over the years. Or being told to 'get over it' by those who just always expect me to be strong for them. I've faced a lot of challenging times in my life, some I'd even rate harder than this, but I'll openly confess it's been a while since I've felt quite so broken, lonely and lost as I have done recently. 

As many of you know, one of my main coping mechanisms in life is to throw myself into my work. Sadly though, that has been adversely affected by this current situation too, making it all much more difficult. There are a lot of factors at play of course, but let's face it, being a disabled female writer isn't exactly an advantage at the best of times, let alone during a global pandemic and economic crisis. It would be so good to bury myself in a project right now and have something positive to focus on, especially with my beloved Indycar season ending. 

Again, if I'm totally honest, the only thing that's kept me going at times is my deep love and passion for Indycar, and my Indy Family. As so often in my life Indycar has been the one constant that I can cling to, and I am grateful beyond words to the 'family' who've put their (virtual) arms around me, inspiring me far more than they realise. I miss being trackside so much though and it's been absolute torture not being able to get over to any races and see everyone. The 'pond' has never felt so horribly wide.... 

 
I want to thank Indycar and my friends for helping me get up and keep going, even on the days when I struggle to find a reason to do so. Life has taken a lot from me this year and the broken wings I fought so hard to learn to fly with have been shredded once more. I don't feel like I have a lot of building blocks to work with right now, but I will keep fighting to survive and rebuild whatever life has left for me. One thing's for sure, I need to find a way 'back on track' both figuratively and literally, because life is way too precious, short and important to me to let this damned virus, or any destructive force, take it away. 

 
So here's to the future, whatever it holds for us - but hoping with all my heart it allows us to meet, be happy and chase dreams together again soon. 
 
Take care and stay safe my friends, I love and miss you so much Xx 
 
DREAM - BELIEVE - ACHIEVE 💗

Driving With The Brakes On?

When Roger Penske took over the reins of the Indycar series and the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, he vowed to make its crown jewel, the Indianapolis 500, even more spectacular. But, as we prepare for the 104th running of the great race this weekend, nobody could have foreseen just how 'memorable' it would become, for all the wrong reasons. 

Due to the on-going Covid-19 pandemic, the 2020 race will of course be run without fans present. In many people's eyes, losing a big part of its very life blood in the process. It’s a decision that still doesn't sit easily with a lot of regular race goers, but it’s understandable given the increased infection risks. Penske’s heartfelt letter to the fans this week only highlighting how difficult the choice was alongside his own sadness at running in front of empty stands.

Fans aren’t the only thing that will be missing from Indy this year though. As, somewhat ironically, only months after declaring it's 'Race for Equality' diversity program, this will also be the first time in 20 years that a woman will not be on the grid. Now regardless of your views on female racing drivers, there is a much bigger picture to consider here. You see, true diversity is something far deeper than jumping on a political band wagon to stand with one area of equality, no matter how deserving or required that area is. Because diversity doesn't just cover race, it covers gender, status, ability and much more, both on and off the track.

Now before you say it, no, I am not a drum banging feminist hell bent on shackling bare chested men to the kitchen sink (though if Hugh Jackman offered….) 

Seriously though, I just want real equality. As a disabled female writer, I am not exactly in the majority within motorsport. Although I've largely been shown respect, I have sadly also encountered some hideous bigotry and misogyny. I’ve been uncomfortably propositioned and inappropriately touched at times. I've been denied equal access, credentials and pay compared to equally or even less qualified men. And, despite having instigated, managed, and worked on some major projects over recent years, I can still often find my work undermined or disregarded if it's submitted without a male colleague 'validating' it.

Please don’t mistake this as me whining, complaining, and demanding special treatment; that's something I have never, ever wanted on any level. I don't wish to be the token disabled woman in the media room to fulfil some politically charged agenda or equality target. I just want a fair chance to be there on merit, like most so called 'diverse' people do. I don't want you to open the door for me because I am a woman with disabilities. I am just asking that the door isn't automatically slammed in my face simply because I am not an able-bodied member of the old boy’s club with an often pickled 'history’.

If motorsport is serious about diversity, it must realise, accept, and address that it is by its very nature diverse. Because until such a time that people of all races, genders and abilities are truly given equal opportunities to grow and thrive within the sport, this 'drive' for diversity and equality will remain stalled in the pit lane. 

Seeing (dis)ABILITY

As a disabled person with various bionic parts/aids, I'm more than used to being gawped at, pointed to and whispered about whenever I go out. In most cases it's just well meaning curiosity at seeing something different, which is why I tend to engage and joke with people about it, hopefully making them more comfortable with disability in the future. 

Sadly though there will always be those that are just genuinely rude, ignorant and cruel too. Over the years I've gotten used to being called every derogatory term you can imagine, and many more you can't. As someone who already suffers from low self esteem and anxiety, it can be hard to deal with and often takes a toll on my confidence. But I try not to be dragged down by small minded idiots as I have never let myself be defined by my illness or disabilities. 

However, a recent encounter has left me pretty shaken up. On discovering I had a genetic disorder, some 'charming' numbnut, who knew nothing else about me as a person, merrily informed me that my parents "should have aborted me to keep the human race purer". I'm genuinely gobsmacked and stunned that anybody would even think it's ok to say that to another human.

It's far from easy living with disabilities and an incurable, progressive ticking timebomb inside of me. And I will confess that this incredibly challenging past year has driven me to some very dark places where I've considered how nice it would be to stop the world and get off..... But, at no point have I ever wished I'd never been born. Because despite, and in some cases because of, my situation I've done, seen and achieved some amazing things. Way more than ever imagined or believed possible, and I've still got many more dreams to chase yet too. 

Nobody has the right to make me feel worthless and unwanted. Especially not cruel, ignorant, bigoted, uneducated morons who know nothing about my life, my heart and my soul. Don't judge me on my obvious faults - look beyond the broken parts to truly see me. To see Johanna, the person putting everything into living to the full, not the disability or illness.

I was brought up to treat everyone the same, regardless of their age, ability, race, gender or status. I will treat you with the same respect whether you're serving me in a restaurant or you're a multiple motorsport world champion, so long as you treat me with respect back. I always believed this was normal, but it breaks my heart to see more and more a world that is divided by arrogance, selfishness, bigotry, misinformation and hatred instead. 

I know it sounds terribly naive, but I genuinely long for a world where we can all just get along. A world where differences are understood, embraced and we can respect, learn and grow together, no matter what. 

#BeKind #Together

Oliver Askew Indycar Texas Preview Interview

For race fans, the moment one season ends the countdown to the start of the next begins. But, as the checkered flag fell on the 2019 NTT Data Indycar finale at Laguna Seca, nobody could have imagined they would be counting for quite so long. Eight months on, as Indycar tentatively emerges from its corona virus enforced hiatus, series rookie Oliver Askew explains how lockdown has helped him prepare for the challenges of making his debut on the super-fast Texas Motor Speedway this weekend.

Reigning Indy Lights champion Oliver Askew laughs as he suggests he must now hold some kind of record for the longest time being an Indycar driver without actually starting a race. “It’s been like six or seven months, so we’re definitely ready to go,” he adds.

The 23-year-old, who joined the newly formed Arrow McLaren SP team alongside Pato O’Ward for the 2020 season, admits that although the extended break has been testing at times, it has brought some advantages too.

“I think it’s been hard for everyone to stay motivated. But I’m sure once the season starts, I’ll be able to get into that zone again. To be honest lockdown hasn’t affected me too much, as I’ve just used the time to get myself more prepared physically than I was before [planned season opener] St Pete. I think I needed that extra time. I know what my weaknesses are and that’s my motivation, to make sure they don’t hinder my performance this year.”

“It’s also been good for the guys at the shop, as we’ve had more time to learn and grow together,” he continues. “Our practice pitstops are faster now than prior to St Pete too, so hopefully we’ll be able to capitalise on that this weekend.”

Although it’s created varying levels of controversy for some drivers, Askew has found the lockdown Sim Racing sessions to be helpful with his real-life preparations. “We really didn’t have anything better to do through those weeks, but it’s actually been good for me to get used to racing around the Indycar drivers I haven’t competed against before. Obviously, it’s not the same as reality by any means, but just to be around those names has helped my confidence. Again, being able to work with the guys on the AMSP pit stand has been a big positive too. We were able to kind of emulate what the strategy would be like in real life, and how the spotters would be talking to me, relaying information. So, for that kind of thing it was very beneficial.”

Nothing beats real racing though and the young American is more than ready to join his fellow drivers on the grid for the Genesys 300 this Saturday. Though it’s fair to say that making his debut on the super-fast, high banked Texas Motor Speedway, with a condensed schedule, under lights and the brand new aeroscreen to contend with, is a far cry from the introduction to Indycar he was expecting.

“It’s going to be my first Indycar race, first Indycar speedway…. and with the condensed schedule as well, it’s probably going to hurt the rookie drivers and help the veterans. I don’t feel any added pressure, as the expectations are already pretty measured for both Pato and myself. You know he’s never even been to the track, and I’ve only spent a day there for my rookie evaluation” explains Askew. “I’m going in thinking of it as more of a glorified practice day. But if we have a good qualifying, which I really think we can make happen, then stay on the lead lap and out of trouble, I think we could have a top ten easily. Ovals are kind of strange that way, where you just circulate where you have to and stay out of trouble, and that usually turns into a good result.”

The Florida born driver has a strong record on ovals, having won both races on last year’s Indy Lights schedule, including the Freedom 100 at the iconic Indianapolis Motor Speedway. 

“I’m also undefeated on the Texas iRacing oval as well, winning there during quarantine!” he laughs.

“I know it’s not the same but having that alongside my two Indy Lights oval wins last year most definitely gives me confidence. I enjoy the challenge of racing on ovals and think they kind of suit my style, in the way it requires smooth input and a methodical approach.”

Though he’s competed in night races while karting, the sunset finish under lights at Texas will be yet another new experience for Askew on Saturday. But as he rightly points out, the fact that the new aeroscreen safety device introduced this season has yet to be tested at night suggests it will be a learning process for all the drivers. “None of us have the answers to how it’s going to be, so it’ll be interesting finding out. I guess we’re all just going to be in ‘show up and race’ mode.”

“To be honest, I don’t really know what the challenges are going to be this weekend, but I will be focused on not making any mistakes and executing when I need to. The heat will obviously be a big factor, and I’m curious to see how I feel in the car at the end, because it’s going to be really hot. I hope I can perform at my best through the whole race. Beyond that I just have to figure it out as the challenges present themselves. That’s one thing I love about racing in general though, as you never really know what’s going to happen.”

Signing for the Arrow McLaren SP team has been one of Askew’s proudest moments in his racing career so far, alongside clinching the Indy Lights title with seven wins last year. 

“Driving for AMSP means a lot to me. Ever since I was a little kid racing national go-karts and starting to win championships, I began envisioning myself becoming a professional Indycar driver. Even then it was a long shot, and it’s been a lot of work to get here. It’s easy to be engulfed in the present moment and always looking forward to the next race, but I think it’s important to look back and realise how far we’ve come too. Opportunities like this don’t come around too often, especially to rookies. So, I’m happy to be around such knowledgeable personnel and representing brands like Arrow Electronics and McLaren.”

Askew proudly goes on to explain that one member of the AMSP team has been a particularly big help, support, and influence on him as he's adapted to the team and Indycar. “Robert Wickens has been a lot of help to me. I like to call him a good friend and I can go to him with anything really. He understands the challenge that’s in front of me now, as he went through the same thing and has such relevant experience in Indycar. He’s a great person to have on our side. I think he’s probably the best mentor in the paddock right now because of his recent knowledge of the series.”

Wickens’ advice and support will certainly be a vital asset heading into the unknowns of the Texas race this weekend and beyond. Asking about his goals for the season, Askew is typically focused and measured in his response.

“Right now, the goal is to win Rookie of the Year, but I don’t really have any expectations. I’ll just try to take every weekend as they come and as a team, we’ll do our best to execute with what we have. That’s been my MO for the past few years, just take every race as it comes and focus on getting better. I think this is going to be steepest learning curve that I’ve come across in my racing career, and the people around me understand that. So, we’ll just focus on the weaknesses and trying not to make the same mistake twice.”

Given his impressive record through the Road to Indy ladder system and measured preparations for the challenges ahead, it’s hard not to imagine this rising US racer turning his ‘virtual’ successes into reality on the track.

The Genesys 300 Indycar season opener take place at Texas Motor Speedway on 6th June.

Always Forward

During the build up to the 2018 Indianapolis 500, I had chance encounters with several drivers in the recalcitrant media centre lift, but one stood out. To his great credit, the then series rookie lasted a whole level of our painfully slow journey before curiosity got the better of him and the inevitable question about my bionic leg brace appeared. As Robert Wickens stepped out of the elevator, still laughing at my 'bungee jumping accident' reply, I had no inkling just how poignant that brief chat would soon become... or that I had in fact been travelling with my hero that day.

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.

Thank you, Robbie.