Okay.  I know, I know.  I’ve feared your wrath for several weeks now.  Dear Scared Witless readers, forgive me, for I have sinned.  It has been nearly two months since my last blog post.  But in my defense, online holiday shopping, travel, binge eating, One Tree Hill reruns and a mad rush of projects at work kept me from conquering my fears at the end of the year.  I apologize and pledge to write more frequently this year – even if it means giving up my addiction to the cheesy, melodramatic CW soap opera I love to hate.  (Don’t judge me!)

I do, however, have exciting news.  This past weekend my friends and I finally got around to having that 14-lap go-kart race I mentioned way back in October.  My trusty Living Social coupon clutched in my sweaty fist, I reluctantly trudged into the giant indoor facility.  The smell of fresh tires did nothing to assuage my fears.  In fact, it reminded me of the nearly $2,000 I had to drop to get the transmission fixed on my car last month.  I think it may have even induced a little financial distress heartburn. 

While waiting for our group to be called, I got out some much-needed nervous energy schooling my husband at air hockey, having my very first taste of Dippin’ Dots and chowing down on a cold but nonetheless tasty Chicago-style hot dog.  Perhaps not the best cure for my afore-mentioned reflux, but what’re ya gonna do.

Immature dorks that we are, my friends and I class-clowned our way through the safety video, and I apologized in advance for the number of spin-outs and crashes I assumed I’d accrue during the race.  The last time I was in a go-kart, I barely stepped on the gas, got bumped around like nobody’s business and vaguely remember getting stuck on the side of the track.  Not the most memorable experience when your husband-to-be, father, and younger cousin point, laugh and lap you in your shame and humiliation.

Note the Navitat T-shirt -- still proud of ziplining!

At MB2 Raceway, the electric go-karts are equipped for maximum speeds of up to 45 mph – and I’m sure I wasn’t even going 20 last time.  Safety is my middle name (blatant lie) so I was thrilled (not so much) when we were instructed to put on stylish (ugly) head socks, giant helmets with visors and neck supports.  Don’t I look tiny – but mighty?  Maybe?  Just a little?  No? – in this picture? 

I was assigned Car #7, and there I sat, derriere already aching in the uncomfortable seat, hands gripping the wheel, taking deep breaths within my stinky helmet.  One by one the cars before me made their way to the track for the slow first lap, and then – WHAM!  My car started zipping around the corkscrew turns.  I was laying on the breaks pretty hard those first couple of laps but then I decided I needed to conquer my fear, so I crunched my toes and leaned into the gas, pedal to the metal.  Sure, I was lapped at least twice by the guys in my group (and bumped several times more), but would you believe that I lapped someone?  (I know, me either!!!)

I sped around like a pro, never once crashing into the track.  Though I was sure I’d end up in last place, I came in 7th – beating all the other girls in the race.  Okay, so there were only THREE other girls, and we didn’t even complete all 14 laps, but you know what?  I was pretty proud.  And best of all, I had fun, even if my face was all squinty-serious from concentration and I was throwing inaudible four-letter words out left and right during my few moments of speedy victory.

Lucky Number 7

                     2012 Score

                     Jenny:  1, Fears:  0

      Check out my racing stats below:

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