IT WAS ALL GOING SO WELL...

Sunday 8th October: Today was the day. The final day of the season of the BTCC championship, my final early morning race day drive to the track in my dad-waggon hire car, and the day I finally got to wear my shorts (in October!) cos summer finally decided to show up!

It was bittersweet as I knew this would be the last time I'd see everyone till probably next season, and although we (WSR TeamBMW) couldn't quite snatch drivers championship title, the manufacturer’s championship was still very much to play for! Me and grid sister Chloe set off from the hotel super early that day to make the most of it all, and chef Leslie 's incredible eggs in hospitality breakfast.

I wish I could say there were some signs /warnings or bad omens to indicate the horror that I now know was about to unfold, but everything was so sweet! The only thing of note was a couple of touches from my mum- who I tragically lost just three months ago.

I'm not from a motorsport mad family and neither of my parents have ever ventured to a racetrack in their lives. We do wonder where my passion for cars came from but, since mum passed I've been taking her on a tour of them all!

“Right mum, today we're going to Brands Hatch!” I'd say to her. “Silverstone last time, now let's see what you think of this circuit.”

Since doing this I've always had a massive butterfly swoop by me when I'm standing on the grid at the start of each race. Not the kind of place you'd expect to see that given the serious lack of plants or foliage for them to rest on. But I knew she was loving it, coming to work with me in spirit at each round.

“Come on mum- let him (my driver- Stephen) put it on pole for the last race of the season!” I shouted in my heart.

But more on that later…

Three action-packed races in a day and after race one I had a physical touch from (I’m convinced) my mum, when someone gave my upper arm a stroke and a squeeze while I was chatting to a colleague on the BMW stand. I quickly spun around to see who it was.

“Who was that?” I jumped. My friend just looked confused.

“Sophie- there's no one there... must have been a ghost!” he smiled.

I knew it was my mum.

Just go with me here. If you know me, you'll know I’m well into all the woo woo stuff!

Then what happened? Driver Stephen Jelley only goes and ends up in pole position for the final race of the season! A feat he's been denied so many times this year down to sheer miss fortune.

YES MUM! YES JELLEY! YES TEAM! I was buzzing. Cue frantic reapplying of makeup, dusting all the cake crumbs off me in the back of the race truck and putting my stilettos back on ready for all the smiles, posing for pictures and TV cameras swarming. It really couldn't have been more perfect. The sun was setting- golden hour in full effect, as us grid girls waited to be taken out onto the grid. I chatted to my two favourite marshals - Claire and Anna - who I had the pleasure of meeting that day. And Doctor Mark came round with his epic box of sweets. The guy is a legend! He offers us all a Haribo before heading out, to give our blood sugar a boost, as grid girls have fainted in the past.

The marshals do an incredible job keeping us all safe and making racing possible. It couldn't happen without them! They’re passionate and dedicated volunteers who also have to be great at herding cats while leading us out onto the grid, single file and in the right order, and placed at the exact right spot on our team's current grid position, or else the team would get a hefty fine. No pressure! But the orange army were always cool as cucumbers.

On this occasion I didn't have far to walk as I was on pole position! Absolutely buzzing. As the cars roar up to us on the grid, I always sing in my head “I don't think you're ready for this Jelly!” as Stephen revs up. (Don't tell him that though. He'd probably prefer something other than Destiny's Child as his theme tune!)

It was a busy and perfect final grid walk as people came over for their last selfies and wished one another Happy Christmas/ New Year and everything in between- “till we meet again”. I never want to leave the grid when the three minute board comes out. I love standing there proudly representing. But I appreciate I have to, otherwise I'd be run over. I look back over my shoulder and give Stephen a thumbs up and mouth “Good luck!” as I and the last few mechanics make our way off the grid. It was Showtime!

It was a drama filled first lap as the safety car came out and we all screamed at the TV screens in the packed garage. I used these safety car laps to run back into the truck in my stilettos and change into my trainers, because the way things were going, we'd be getting at least two podiums out of this- which meant we’d sure as hell be running up that pit wall to cheer if any of our drivers brought home a win.

I couldn't wait for this moment! I didn't want to jinx it as we still had another 15 laps to go, but I’d been watching the rival team in the garage next door running up that pit wall all day after all their wins! (Annoying- but fair play to them, they've had an epic season!)

The final lap- Jake Hill in P1 and Stephen Jelley holding on in P3 as they came round the final bend… Come on boys, this is nearly it! Two podiums are seconds away!!

“Are we running?!” I squealed. I saw some of the other mechanics had already taken off and I didn't need to be told twice. I raced out of the garage, almost knocking grid girl Chloe over like a skittle, narrowly avoiding a stack of tyres. Across the pit lane, ducking under the metal bar on the pit wall and quickly scrambled my way up the catch fencing with the rest of the team, until I was hanging over the top.

(I LIVE FOR THESE MOMENTS!! It's one of the many things I love about motorsport.)

The massive blast of air hit me as Jake sped across the finish line at an eye watering speed, followed closely by Josh Cook, then our Stephen in third. Victory! The crowd erupted. I punched the air, shaking my fist, screaming “YEEAAASSSS BOYS!!!” As I hung over that fencing feeling the speed and force of the other cars completing their season. I stayed up there for an extra few seconds as I didn't want to come down. Everything started to go in slow motion. I didn't want this feeling to end. I didn't want the season to end. I also wanted to put off the five hour drive home as long as possible...

@JakobEbrey

I took a breath and sighed a smile as I began to climb down the fencing, so I could throw my arms round the nearest person in a celebratory hug. That person would be Steph- our superstar pocket-rocket hospitality manager- who was just to my right.

My fingers gripped through the mesh fencing and I dangled my left leg down towards the ground, anticipating its closeness, and then? I let go…

But the ground wasn't there! Who the hell moved it?! I thought I was close but I mustn’t have been anywhere near! There was a millisecond where I knew I was falling to the ground with a straight leg underneath me as if I was planning on spearing the concrete like some kind of javelin. My leg hit the ground straight, like I was a human Pogo stick with no spring. Despite the engine roars of the last few remaining cars zipping over the line, I swear I heard it snap. Crack. And instantly I was on the floor with no feeling in my leg whatsoever, unable to move it and the only indication of what had just happened was my thigh bone poking out of my leg just above my knee.

Shit. Double Shit. I knew this was BAD. It was still attached to me- still a part of my body-yet it was so miss shaped and I couldn't feel it!

“My knee! My knee!” I screamed, thinking maybe I’d just dislocated it. Quickly followed by “My leg! My leg!” Then tears flooded, breath quickened and pain came to the point I was almost passing out.

“Medic! Medic! DON’T move her!”, Steph shouted as everybody came running. “We think she's broken her leg!”

Super Steph was the perfect person to have by my side and within seconds there were a dozen others too: Marshals, medics, doctors, mechanics- just anyone close by-all rushing to help me, to keep me breathing, to keep me calm, to hold me upright, to squeeze my hand, to tell me I was doing great, to tell me I was going to be fine.

It felt like one big giant embrace. These people were keeping me alive right now. Within 5 minutes, Doctor Mark with the sweets had me on gas and air. (The guy does more than just give out Haribo folks!) And that pain relief was like the best jelly sweet I'd ever had. Then I flicked into panic again:

“FUCK! NO! – MY LIFE!!! My life…” I sobbed. Knowing it was about to change dramatically as it all started flashing before my eyes. I was slightly drifting in and out of consciousness and I glanced to my left and saw marshal Claire holding my hand telling me so calmly “You've got this Sophie, you've got this.” Then marshal Anna to my right saying I was “doing great” and just “breathe”.

Getting me off the pitwall and onto a stretcher was probably the hardest bit. Any kind of movement was the most unimaginable pain. Then it was straight into the back of an ambulance that was driven up the pit lane for me.

Can we all just take a moment to appreciate how this couldn't have actually happened in a better place? Literally all the help and support I needed was right there for me, ready in that very second. The doctors, medics, even the ambulance was already there. I didn't have to wait for anything! I’ve always said it and I’ll say it again: Racetracks are magical places.

Side note: Just realised how mad it is that in all this, my phone in my back pocket survived, but my femur didn’t!!