I was in the simulator, driving my heart out, knowing there were no consequences. As I was going flat out in my GT3 Porsche 911. If I could keep my position I would win the championship. I knew every breaking point and I could see the next three corners perfectly in my head. Laguna Seca was my favorite track in the world, it was short and utilized every type of corner imaginable. Then I felt it in my butt. The rear end of my car started to slide more than my simulator would allow, then all of the sudden. I wasn't in the simulator.
I barely touched the dry dusty dirt with my back right tire, I spun around. I tasted the dust that somehow ended up in my mouth. I let go of the steering wheel knowing there was no way I was going to save this high-speed crash. The steering wheel went crazy as I skidded across the desert. I looked to my right and saw the wall approaching closer to the tire wall. Then a loud crunch, I closed my eyes and felt my body thrown around, inside of the tight harness for a good few seconds then it all came to a stop.
I had flipped, I don't know how many times but the important thing was that I was on my wheels. I heard my engineer over the radio
“Are you ok, are you ok?” he said with a concerned voice.
“Yes, yes, I'm ok!”
“Wait there, stewards will be there shortly.”
I sat there in a little bit of a daze, then I remembered what place I was in. I was in third place when I crashed and since there is a yellow flag out I just might be able to make it back into the race before I lost too many positions
I carefully got out of the gravel trap making sure not to spin my wheels too much otherwise I could get beached. Once I got back on track I limped my car back to the pits, the damage surprisingly minimal. My pit crew did the best they could in the 40 seconds that they had to repair my car while it was getting refueled and its tires changed. I went back out slowly testing the limits of the car again, trying to learn as much as possible about the damage to the car in the short pit lane.
Maybe I could still win my championship. I was dazed but determined to make up for my mistake, but when I finally left the pit lane I floored it and got my head back in the race. I was only in 17th place which honestly wasn't that bad, and I only had to make it back to 10th place. I was following the number 83 car, drafting behind him for about a minute, making sure not to push the car straight away.
On the back straight I saw my opportunity and floored it out of the corner. The back end of my car wagged a bit as my wheels spun trying to gain traction. I pulled over to the right side of the track and flew by. The corkscrew was coming up, so I made sure to brake early so I could stop in time. I lifted my foot off the gas pedal but the pedal didn't come back up to my foot. It was stuck on the ground like it was glued to the floor. My race was over, and my hopes of winning the championship left back at the top of the corkscrew. I flew through the air, and I knew there was nothing I could do, I was a passenger in my own car.