I know, I know, I’m being a wuss. But I really have been in pain this week.
On Monday, I went Karting with my son and his friend at Teamworks in Northampton. They are both sixteen. I’m thirty-one years older than that. So while they are both fit and healthy, I’m… less so. If you’ve ever been Karting you’ll know that it’s hard work. It might not seem it, but it really does wear you out trying to wrestle the karts around the track—especially if you’re used to a nice comfy cruiser with power steering.
But just getting the kart around the track isn’t the reason I’ve been in pain. No, that would be the bloody massive shunt I had trying to keep that boy of mind behind me on one lap.
Take a look at the track here.
You’ll see that from the Start Line there’s a sweeping left-hander which leads into a long straight. You can take this pretty much flat out. At the end of the straight, there’s a 90-degree left followed by a left-hand hairpin which leads into a tight 90-degree right.
And that’s where I lost it.
I was feeling good and feeling quick having worked out how to get around that hairpin without losing all momentum, so perhaps I was feeling cocky, I don’t know. I was very much aware of the two karts behind me, and although I didn’t know one of them was my son, I very much wanted to keep them behind me. So I carried too much pace into the right-hander and understeered into the barrier.
And then got whacked by the kart directly behind me who couldn’t stop nor get out of the way.
And that was when I found out it was my son.
He was fine. I, on the other hand, bashed up the whole of the left side of my torso and all week now it’s been painful to move, painful to not move, painful to cough or laugh or move my left arm quickly.
Just generally quite painful.
Still, at least I learned not to carry so much speed into that corner for the rest of the evening, eh?
