I had about four laps full of accidents first run behind the wheel of the latest and greatest Honda professional Driver In Loop (DIL) racing. simulator when I first noticed it: my arms it hurtfrom fingers to shoulder blades. How I threw it away into the wall I also realized for the second time that I hadn’t breathed in about two minutes, sweat was sticking to my bangs, and the joints in my fingers were squeaking as I tried to let go of the steering wheel to wipe my hands on my shorts. NO, I thought to myself, my iRacing experience absolutely did not prepare me for any of this nonsense.
Honda, one of IndyCar’s two engine suppliers, for a variety of reasons invited me to the 108th Indianapolis 500. Yes, of course, we were there to see the race, but several of us also had the opportunity to test out the latest and greatest in simulated racing technology. Thanks to this, I appreciated again the effort that drivers put into competition.
This particular simulator uses an elderly Indy car cockpit and offers a 270-degree view from a screen that is 2.5 meters high and 9 meters wide, with a full 360-degree tilt. Essentially, these machines allow drivers to more accurately replicate race conditions and make critical set-up changes without having to go through the costs of driving real cars on real race tracks. It is also a huge step forward compared to Honda’s previous simulator, which entered service in 2013; the fresh version includes software for simulating the dynamics of multi-body vehicles and can generate up to 1.5 MB of data per second. You can better simulate real-world conditions, make immediate changes, and analyze massive amounts of data and video to understand what can be improved. It’s a truly impressive machine – and it’s also kind of terrifying.
When I found out that we would have the chance to try out Honda’s DIL simulator, I started preparing in iRacing. Over the years, my husband has put together a pretty decent simulation kit, but we’re normal people on a normal budget, which means we haven’t spent several thousand dollars trying to create a kit that can replicate real-world conditions. I knew the Honda DIL simulator would be exponentially more steep, but I wanted to know exactly how much bang for my buck you were getting.
I think this is also a good time to admit that I’m not a racing driver and I never wanted to be one. I knew at a very early age that my brain worked best when it had plenty of time to digest information and make an informed decision based on a snail-paced process of reasoning. I’ve never been good at first-person shooter video games that throw you into the hefty of battle, and I’ve always been a little intimidated behind the wheel of the cars I raced on tracks at competitive driving schools. I’m not cut out for this whole “processing and reacting to 1,000 variables coming in at high speed” thing.
This is tough for me, even on a normal-sized computer monitor. If I’m getting into some iRacing shenanigans, I’d prefer a road course with a slower, near-stock vehicle; figuring out how to make a sequence of proper laps around the oval behind the wheel of an open-wheel machine, even virtually, was an exhausting prospect. I was proud of myself for putting in a couple of consistent 218 mph laps in qualifying… as long as I ignored the fact that IndyCar drivers had qualified at over 230 mph the previous weekend. I asked my husband to reduce the force feedback to a more manageable level, and I kind of got used to the feeling of cruising around the 4-mile Indianapolis Motor Speedway. I ended my trip by placing sixth in the 300-mile Indy race that was part of my husband’s sim racing league – a feat that I literally only accomplished by staying out of everyone’s way and not getting caught up in accidents while jockeying for position.
I can’t say I felt confident walking into Honda’s DIL simulator, but I thought I at least had a decent chance of feeling somewhat competent.
Hohoho, boy, it was me evil!
If you’re familiar with race cars, especially open-wheel cars, you know that the driving position is low and lounge-like. As a shorter girl, I sank into the cockpit and immediately lost much of my vision, simply because I couldn’t see over the edge of the tub. The adjustable pedals meant I could reach them comfortably, but my arms held the steering wheel at full extension and my hands were too petite to maintain a comfortable grip when doing things like pressing the radio button or releasing the clutch. Countless times I stopped my virtual Indy car trying to get off pit road because the moment I turned the wheel, the clutch paddle was completely out of my reach.
During the first few laps, I immediately tried to transfer my iRacing skill set to the real thing and then hit the wall demanding a few times. The DIL simulator is set up to turn off feedback when you start making powerful contact, but it was still awesome frightening. When your visual field is completely immersed in IMS, it’s demanding to flip the switch in your brain that tells you you’ve just screwed up so bad you’re about to die. Try doing a few 360-degree spins, then remember to release the clutch lever gently when you get back to the track for another attempt. It’s like trying to switch your brain from speaking French to Spanish when you are only moderately proficient in understanding those languages.
After a few falls, I realized I probably shouldn’t keep trying to pace myself like a ball to the wall. I should snail-paced down and actually try to get comfortable with the simulator technology and how it differs from my iRacing experience. The DIL simulator’s steering force feedback was toned down significantly to give us journalists a chance to set a decent lap speed in the cockpit of a car without power steering, but it was still too aggressive for my jelly-weak arms. I was shocked by how much I had to fight with the steering wheel to, say, keep the car in a straight line or not immediately hit the wall when exiting a corner. I’ve literally never experienced a feeling like this, and instead of the velvety movements I was hoping for, I felt like I had to just saw through the steering wheel – even though I knew it made the car more unstable and slowed me down. I simply had no other way to control the Dallara’s landing gear.
As I began to complete strings of (very snail-paced) laps, I began to become aware of other problems. First, I had definitely forgotten how to breathe, and it took my best yogi mindset to remember to connect the breath to the movements: exhale into the corner, inhale on the straights. However, as I focused on my breathing, I realized that I was losing control of the race track and that I wasn’t exerting enough force to keep the car on a velvety trajectory. So I had to remind myself to not only exhale through the corners, but also to pull the handlebars to my thigh with my left hand while my right hand tried to stabilize the vibrations. Oh yes, and then I had to gasp for air on the straights – and I definitely had to let the car get closer to the wall, even though I couldn’t see the wall, and even though it was extremely scary, and even though it was tough to keep the car in place. But when I thought about it all, the first corner was a surprise; I turned later than I wanted, had to ease off the gas pedal more than I intended, and realized how easily one corner could ruin an entire lap. I spent the rest of the lap trying to catch up in turn one. It took another two laps before I finally felt like I was back into a normal rhythm.
But do you know what happened when I felt competent with my racing line again? I started to realize how much my arms hurt. My already non-existent grip strength completely collapsed, which meant I had to actively consider how I was going to hold the handlebars. I had to remind myself to grip harder, but the tension spread to my forearms, biceps, and back to my shoulder blades. When the DIL simulator engineers told me I had completed five laps in a row, my only thought was, “What the hell.” I was already exhausted, and if this was a real race, there would still be 195 laps to go.
I managed to do about 10 more laps before I just couldn’t take it anymore. The back of the car shook and I couldn’t catch it. I have completed my professional wall simulation tour.
The platform slowly returned to its locked entry and exit position and I made my assessment. I had to remind my fingers how to let go of the steering wheel. This released me from the tension I didn’t realize I was holding, and my upper body muscles were trembling. I was drenched in sweat, my knees were shaking, and it felt like the bottom of my stomach had dropped away, leaving me with a husk and not a single thought in my head other than “Oh my God.” After this event, I had difficulty unfastening my seat belt, tying my shoes, opening my water bottle and breathing.
I can’t compare the fresh Honda sim with his elderly one because I haven’t driven the elderly one. I can’t compare Honda’s fresh sim to its Indy race car because I learned right away that I have no interest in driving a real Indy race car. All I can do is compare Honda’s fresh tab to iRacing, and honestly, it doesn’t even compare – not to the home hardware I have access to.
Above all, it gave me a much deeper appreciation of the amount of effort that goes into the Indy 500. Anyone who follows racing has easily heard that drivers are not athletes because the car is in control, or that racing on oval tracks is straightforward because it involves turning left. I’m fully aware that these feelings are bullshit, but I now have a much greater appreciation for the physical exertion it takes to complete some very uncompetitive laps: It’s been three days since my test and my arms Still I didn’t recover.
