Story of a crash

It’s time for Race 1. I feel on fire. Lesley, my wife gives me my pep talk, a mixture of love, pride and belief.

I do my routine visualisation and say my mantras: I am in the ZONE!

The lights go off, tyre screetching, rubber burning, I have a fantastic start. I overtake a bunch of cars on the outside and manage to stay on track. We go through the first chicane and we are like a swarm of flies. Some cars overtake me but I overtake more. I am not even trying to keep count, all I know is that I am doing very well as I am in the middle of GT5 amateur and professional racers.

On the straight they catch up with me again as their engine delivers more power. But I compensate with bravery in the corners.

Silverstone is a large track. Coming into Brooklands we are three cars level. No one wants to conceed the tight corner. 

We are coming hot onto the guys in front of us.

Then a red car spins, a black professional GT5 also spins and hits him. The red car goes to the right and the black one stops on the track. This happen in the space of a second. I am still sandwiched by the two other cars, a couple of centimetres room if that. I have nowhere to go. I push the driver on my left to try and avoid the black car, he is not conceding the corner or maybe he is on the limit of his tyre grip.

A big crash ensues, the window smashes onto my face in a 1000 pieces, my shoulder hurts, I loose hearing from my right ear for a while. The mirror is broken and falls between my feet. I did not lower my visor, glass offcuts find their way into my nose and forehead, later I realise it could of been my eye. The competitor’s exhaust has pierced an 8 cm diameter hole by my door.

img 0978 - Story of a crashI am screaming at the spinning drivers, cursing…and trying to race, always. The adrenaline is still pumping!

Parts are rattling between my legs. I am very aware that the mirror could jam my brakes or throttle. It is imperative that I grab the pieces and throw them out.

Still, only one thin on my mind: race! I press on: full throttle. The 5 point harness does not let me move, I try to use my left foot to no avail.

Suddenly my steering goes, I cannot control my car anymore and nearly lose it. At 100mph with a wall on my right hand side…

That’s it, time to quit… over and out again! I get on the grass and very slowly make it back to the pits.

My door is jammed and I crawl out from the passenger seat like a frog. Now I feel concussed, lost, angry.
DNF, 0 points.

Generosity beyond the call of duty

Today I will tell you about Lesley’s first Marathon: the money raising Marathon prior to the real event in London later on this month.

We went to the West End where Paul Carroll, owner and main performer of MHT, invited us backstage to meet the team. We then took our VIP seats and enjoyed the show. A rollercoaster of emotions, laughter and energy that the public obviously enjoyed as they never stopped clapping – as if they were paid to cheer! Having already raised over €100,000 for MacMillan while on tour,

img 0610 - Generosity beyond the call of dutyPaul talked beautifully about Lesley’s recent events and challenge. Lesley & our Amina (11 years old) stood by the doors at the end collecting what was an outpour of generosity.
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As we were walking back to our hotel on the Strand, happy, laughing and ice cream in hand, we passed a man sleeping rough on the street. As I gave him a few pounds, he asked me what we were doing. Bemused I told him we were going back home; he shook his head and asked what we we doing with “the bucket”. I told him we were raising money for charity. Once he learned it was for MacMillan, he spontaneously offered to donate! He told me how his mother was helped in her hour of need and handed back one of the pounds I gave him with the instruction to put it in the bucket. My immediate reaction was to say no, I did not want to take his money… but who am i to deny him? What makes me the decider of what is right or wrong, who should give or not? So i accepted his kindness and shook his hand goodbye, palming some notes. We looked at one another, holding hands, not uttering a word as our eyes filled up. Two worlds crossing paths. A connection on a pure human basis was made. What a kind man, I found myself tears streaming down my face in front of my children around midnight at the Strand, thinking about fairness, kindness, luck and responsibility… while our valet brought our car around and the man got into his sleeping bag.

Thank you Stranger for this lesson of life.

If you feel you want to contribute, click the Donate button below, or go to Justgiving page and search for Lesley Hindmarch:img 0633 - Generosity beyond the call of duty

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