Sometimes Doubt Means You Have to Get Back in the Car

September 14, 2026

Last Monday, I got back in the car.

I hadn’t seriously driven my Radical RXC 600R in months. And after enough time away from something this demanding, doubt can begin to creep in.

Am I still sharp? Do I still have it? Can I still do this at the level I remember?

Doubt isn’t always weakness. Sometimes it’s simply a question.

And sometimes the only way to answer it is to get back in the car.

So that’s what I did.

No coach. No instructor sitting beside me. No race team talking in my ear.

Just me, the car and the track.

I checked the car myself. Set the tire pressures. Went through my safety checks. Strapped myself into 600 horsepower and headed onto Atlanta Motorsports Park.

My previous personal best at AMP was somewhere in the 1:28 range. After being away for months, I would have been pleased simply to get comfortable again and work my way back toward that pace.

Instead, something began to click.

1:28 became 1:27.

Then 1:26.

And finally:

1:25.8 — the fastest lap I have ever driven at Atlanta Motorsports Park.

My Garmin Catalyst calculated an optimal lap of approximately 1:25.4, and by the end of the session I was consistently running in the 1:26 range.

But this isn’t really a story about driving fast.

It’s about learning. Doubt. Growth.

At 60 years old, I remain fascinated by the process of getting better at something.

The racetrack gives you nowhere to hide. You cannot negotiate with physics. You cannot talk your way around a corner. The stopwatch doesn’t care who you are, what you’ve accomplished, or what you intended to do.

The car responds to what you actually do.

And what I rediscovered last Monday was that confidence isn’t recklessness.

Confidence is competence earned through preparation, repetition and experience.

I wasn’t trying to be brave. I was trying to be smooth.

Brake with purpose. Release the brake properly. Let the car rotate. Trust the aerodynamic grip where it exists. Be patient where the car’s weight works against me. Get the steering wheel straight — and then let 600 horsepower do what 600 horsepower does.

And something interesting happened:

The faster I became, the less dramatic the driving became.

There’s a lesson in that far beyond motorsports.

In business. In leadership. In relationships. In life.

We sometimes assume that the next level requires us to push harder, do more, take bigger risks or somehow eliminate all doubt.

Maybe not.

Sometimes progress comes from becoming calmer. More precise. More intentional. Eliminating unnecessary movements. Trusting what you’ve learned. And refusing to allow doubt to make decisions that properly belong to you.

Speed often comes from doing fewer things wrong — not simply trying harder.

My next goal is 1:23.

Not because I need to prove anything to anybody.

Because last Monday reminded me that there is still more for me to learn, more capability to unlock, and probably another two seconds somewhere inside that car — and inside me.

And finding it is going to be fun.

Doubt isn’t always telling you to stop.

Sometimes it’s asking you a question.

And sometimes the best answer is to get back in the car.