The Adrenaline Fallacy
By Kent Kunitsugu/Sport Rider 2001
Wheel Spin

Why we don't race for the "adrenaline rush."

    It's funny how the general public can misinterpret the "high" we get from racing or riding quickly. Even those who ride motorcycles occasionally-like the weekend Harley-Davison crowd, for instance - don't really understand the unique pleasure we get from controlling a motorcycle at a high speed. This point was driven home awhile back when a friend introduced me to a rather wealthy man (one of the so-called "RUBs"- rich urban bikers- who only ride for short hops on the weekends). When he found out that I still race intermittently, he asked, "Oh, you must be addicted to the adrenaline rush, huh?"

    The misconception that adrenaline fuels a racer's desire is probably born out of the popular myth that racing is a constant dance with death (all references to the Isle of Man TT aside). Not helping matters are Hollywood movies that dramatize and glorify racers as "thrill seekers," suck as the laughable Days of Thunder, where Tom Cruise's NASCAR driver character proclaims his reason for racing as, "being in control of something that's out of control." There is no doubt that the risk involved in racing is part of what appeals to a racer's psyche. But ironically, it's the control aspect that is central to the pleasure derived from racing that keeps many of us coming back for more.

    Adrenaline is a natural hormone secreted by the adrenal glands that stimulates several key functions in the human body. Some of the more obvious effects are that it heightens awareness and the senses, and boosts the production of energy in your muscle cells for greater bursts of strength than would otherwise be possible. If only looked at from this perspective, it would be easy to conclude that adrenaline is a racer's best friend.

    Unfortunately, adrenaline also raises the body's blood pressure to abnormal levels, quickens the respiratory cycle (makes you hyperventilate) and causes the outer blood vessels to constrict. For someone who needs to sustain a period of high-energy activity for 30 minutes or longer, this would be (and is) highly detrimental to peak performance. Thus, if a racer were surviving on adrenaline alone during an event, he would be exhausted within a fraction of the time required to finish a race.

    Many scientists agree that the adrenaline function was born out of early man's "fight-or-flight" response necessary to exist in the wild. When confronted by danger, such as a predatory animal, a human's body immediately went into survival mode, enabling him to either stand his ground (fight), or bust a move and get the hell out of Dodge (flight). Either way, the physical actions resulting from high levels of adrenaline are often very strong, but largely out of control. If you were cornered by a saber-toothed tiger, you wouldn't be calmly reasoning with it or playing a game of Ping-Pong; you'd grab the nearest spear and immediately look for an instant end to the situation. And hopefully not one that finished with you being the entrщe.

    Piloting a motorcycle at a high speed requires quick bursts of strength and movement during a race, but those control inputs must be sustained and measured. Being rough and impulsive with the controls (like you would if you were a caveman whose life was in danger) while cranked over at 140 mph is a sure ticket to a close-up pavement inspection. Sure, there is a high degree of stress due to the numerous decisions that must be made in the blink of an eye (which often makes the difference between grabbing the lead or hurtling off the racetrack), and stress is an environment that signals the body to start producing adrenaline fix, he'd want as much of it as possible coursing through his veins. Which, as described before, would be detrimental to his performance out on the track.

    No, the reason racers race is because they get tremendous satisfaction out of meeting the challenge of precisely controlling a speeding vehicle around a set course-with even more satisfaction if they're able to do it quicker than anyone else. It's not something everyone can do. Especially with motorcycles, where their minute contact patches and inherent instability (they can't stand by themselves at a stop) compared to cars make them even more difficult to control at race speeds.

    Speaking of velocity, there is no "need for speed." The same amount of satisfaction can be derived from getting a tire-spinning drive out of a 60 mph hairpin, as there is from slicing a perfect apex in a 150 mph sweeper. And the danger/risk aspect, while surely part of the appeal of motor racing, is kept to a minimum as much as possible. Racing circuits are built foremost with the participant's safety in mind, and protective gear has advanced to the highest state of efficiency in years.

    As long as man can continually find ways to propel himself around a set course-whether it be two cones set up in a field or a world-class racing circuit- his competitive nature ensures others will always join him in a contest of skill to see who can negotiate it quicker. Everyone describes the pleasure he gets from racing differently, from exhilaration to "in the zone" to Zen enlightenment to an experience larger than life. But an adrenaline rush?
Hardly.