John Marcar’s Ferrari Challenge Diary | Chapter 2 - Let's Start Off by Winning

As written about in Chapter 1 - Day one of three at Ferrari's Ready 2 Race program was now complete, and on the morning of Thursday, February 27th 2025, I woke up in my hotel room beside Brands Hatch circuit as a licensed racing driver. All I needed to do next was complete five races to obtain five more signatures, qualifying me for the UK Ferrari challenge series, which starts on April 25th in Navarra, Spain.

The First Free Practice

On day two of the Ready 2 Race Program, it was time to move up a gear. I didn't get the best night's sleep due to some nerves, but I didn't want to allow myself any excuses for underperforming, so after a few coffees at the driver's briefing, all drivers were released for free practice ahead of the first official qualifying session for race 1. The weather, as predicted, was cold but clear, and the little MX-5 on its semi-slick Toyo R888R tyres felt far more at home on the dryer surface.

After the free practice, all drivers were called in for a final briefing ahead of the first qualifying session. As I walked back into the briefing room, I glanced at the timing screen and saw that I had not only set the fastest lap but achieved a half-second advantage on the car in 2nd place. I was pleased as it had all happened unwittingly. I was aware of the practice conditions and, therefore, was happy to hold off from anything too ambitious, and yet I'd set the fastest time regardless. All drivers were given a briefing, and the pit lane was announced as open for qualifying. It was time to see how quickly I could push my little MX-5, car number 5.

Race 1: Qualifying

In the qualifying session, I was now happy with the car's performance and grip levels. I knew I was entering corners faster, braking later and improving my driving lines. In the qualifying laps, I was starting to feel very much at home in my MX-5, and when the qualifying session was over, I returned to the paddock to see if I'd maintained my lap-time lead. I had.

In the wet closing practice session the evening before, the best lap time I could muster was 1 minute 11 seconds. In my first dry qualifying session, I had just lapped at 58 seconds, putting me firmly in pole position with a lead of 0.68 seconds from the car in 2nd place. With this discovery, backed up by the morning's first free practice session, I allowed myself to imagine the possibility of winning my first-ever competitive race. The idea felt exciting, possibly even romantic, and I started thinking about the possibility of having the ultimate pub bragging right - but I had to stay focussed. Before long, it was time to join the circuit for my first-ever race.

Race 1: My First-Ever Competitive Race (Third Time Lucky)

Before joining the grid, my driver coach Colin offered some last-minute advice about getting off the line and attacking through the first corner in the event of losing a place from the pole position start. All the cars joined the circuit from the pitlane and parked in their positions on the grid. Once all cars are positioned, a green flag is waved for a formation lap. The formation lap is an opportunity to put some heat in the tyres and brakes and set a speed to follow if you're in the luxury of pole position as I was. With the formation lap complete, it was time to find our positions on the grid. From here, it was time to keep an eye on the lights.

As I sat in silence, staring up at the lights, I realised that it was this very moment that I had been thinking about more than anything else. I assumed I'd either be shaking with nerves or focussed purely on the moment whilst blocking out the world around me. But the reality was somehow neither of the two. I'd become consumed by simply wanting a clean start. A minute board is held to signal to drivers that the start will be within 60 seconds. Shortly after, a 30-second board is held, and then, it's all eyes on the lights. I built up the engine revs, ready to drop the clutch for a fast getaway, and in the space of time somewhere between 1 and 5 seconds, the red lights were on and then off.

Clutch pedal up, throttle pedal down, the MX-5 rasped and squealed into life as both rear wheels spun off the line. I lifted off the throttle slightly to bring back the grip, and in what felt like an instant, I was entering the infamous paddock hill bend, the steep downhill right-hander which ends in a compression before going back uphill into Druids, a hairpin corner. My start had been excellent, and I'd maintained my lead, but there were cars close behind. I knew I was quick, and I knew I was consistent; all I had to do was stay on my line, and hopefully, I'd pull away. Lap 1 ended in what felt like an instant; I crossed the start/finish line in first place with car 4 in second place - painfully close to my rear bumper. I hit the brakes as late as I dared into Paddock Hill and landed into the compression before tucking tightly to the inside line through Druids. I remember thinking, 'That felt good!' It was good, but car 4 in 2nd place was still close. As I neared the end of my lap, I entered clearways, the final long sweeping corner before the straight.

I could see that car 4 in 2nd was fighting for my line; he entered clearways fast on my outside, so fast that I expected him to come past me on the exit as I joined the straight, but he didn't. I crossed the line and allowed myself a glance in the mirror to see how close he was... but he wasn't close. He wasn't there at all. I tucked into the compression between Paddock Hill and Druids, and still, in the mirrors, there wasn't a car to be seen. 'Somethings happened', I said to myself. And sure enough, as I was mid-way through druids, I saw the red flag. Car 4 chasing me in 2nd had come off at clearways and was lodged in the gravel.

My first-ever race was over within 3 minutes of starting. As per the rules of the red flag, I pulled around to the start line and was told, "We're running again". As the lap count was so low, we would need to restart the race under the same conditions, with car 4 back in 2nd place beside me on the pole. "I've done it once; I can do it again", I said to myself. And fortunately, I did. I knew that despite another quick start, I had a fast driver on my tail, but I didn't need to worry for long. His excursion into the gravel moments before had clearly had an effect. Car 4 was being passed by other cars, and I was progressing well in the lead. And then, after a flow of good laps. Another red flag. I couldn't believe it; this wasn't how I had imagined it to be. I read a board from the marshal post "Return to Pits"; this one seemed slightly more ominous. It was car 4 again, this time off at Paddock Hill, which resulted in a slower recovery. I was informed by the race director that we'd be restarting on the grid for a 3rd time, but this time, in the order in which the race had been stopped.

The third restart was just as before: lights out, good start, clean entry to Paddock Hill and fast through Druids. I pulled away with a clear lead and wanted to focus on my lines and braking points. A clock above the start/finish line counts down the remaining minutes. 3 minutes remained, meaning 3-4 laps left at the most. I found a flow and maintained my pace, and as I approached a group of back-markers on the Brabham straight, the chequered flag appeared and dropped as I crossed the line. I had given myself the idea of winning my first race, and it happened. I was relieved and elated in equal measures, and as I completed my final lap, I smiled from ear to ear. My first race started 3 times, but I'd won. I'd won my first-ever competitive race.

Race 2 - Brake Failure

I entered the second qualifying session with a new-found confidence. I had qualified first for race 1 and placed 1st across the finish line. There's no reason I couldn't do it again. The next ambitious thought train to enter my mind was, 'Maybe I can win all of these races!' I even joked with Henry, our photographer, about the idea of a 100% win rate at the start of my racing career.

As in race 1, I qualified 1st once again with a lap time of 57 seconds. I had been pushing hard and, as a result, could feel that I'd put a lot more heat into the brakes. On a couple of my qualifying laps, I could feel a slight difference in feel to the pedal, but I put it down to the heat cycles and came back in to let the car cool ahead of the race. I should have mentioned it, but I didn't. The sensation was familiar to brake fade, which I'd experienced on track days. Something that's usually cured with a cool-down session. I decided the time between qualifying and the race would be sufficient. This turned out to be a mistake.

Back on the start line in pole position, I looked across to the car that would be fighting for my position; it was a friend I'd made called Paul. Paul was consistent and had been progressively improving his lap times, but I was reassured to see him. I knew he was safe and calculated. After an affectionate nod, the race started, and we were off. Once again, I'd pulled away with a great start. I had two clear laps under my belt, and everything felt good. Everything except that brake pedal. Once again, the pedal feel had changed; the pedal felt soft, and I was pushing down further to achieve less stopping power. I tried to ease onto the pedal to generate less heat, but it wasn't working. As I reached the braking point for Paddock Hill, the pedal felt alarmingly soft, and at Druids hairpin... there was nothing.

The pedal went to the floor, and the brakes were cooked. With some quick thinking - not wanting to land in the gravel, I pulled the handbrake and spun the car. Meters off the racing line, I sat and watched as the entire grid passed me one by one. Once clear, I pulled away with my arm in the air to indicate something was wrong and returned to the pits. As I pulled in, my mechanic, Charlie, ran out to see why I was back. "I have no brakes!" I shouted. "Pedal is on the floor!". A mechanic opened my door and pressed the brake peddle with his hand to see what it felt like. Another opened the bonnet and saw that the brake fluid reservoir was empty.

I was asked to pump the brakes to identify a leak, but there was nothing. The race controller appeared in the garage and informed me that, to get the signature, I had to finish this race, and so, back out, I went with little-to-no brakes. My remaining laps were slow. I was letting cars by at every opportunity, and my romantic vision of a 100% win rate was gone. That wasn't important, though. What was important was getting the signature, and for that, I needed to finish the race.

I crossed the finish line with the chequered flag waving, but this time, instead of being first, I was the last across the line. Back in the pits, the mechanics got to work on getting the brakes back in working order.

Race 3 - Starting at the back

There was to be no qualifying session for Race 3, which meant that the grid positions would be determined by the results of Race 2. For me, it meant starting at the very back with every single competitor ahead of me. The sighting lap and formation laps were slow, and as I pulled in for the start of the race, I started to strategise how I could work my way through the grid.

As I sat waiting for the lights, I thought about how I knew I was quick off the line. I knew I was faster and braver than most through Paddock Hill and that I had a great line through Druids, just as long as the traffic wasn't too heavy. But aside from the positive thoughts, I had a new-found concern about my brakes. 'Was it a one-off? Or is there a more serious problem to consider?' I couldn't focus on that. I had a job to do, and before I knew it, the red lights were on... and off.
I instantly shot past four cars, hoping to find a clear, fast line through Paddock Hill. I did and, in the process, squeezed past another car. On my way into Druids, the brakes felt fantastic; they were better than they had felt all day! Coming out of Druids, the second corner on lap 1, I was in 4th position, and the fast guys were all ahead of me. A back-marker spun into the gravel at Paddock Hill a lap or two later, neutralising the race with a yellow flag and safety car. With only 5 minutes left of the race, my hopes of a podium finish dwindled. Up front in first position was Charles Rainford, the pro driver who had assessed me on my first ARDS practical exam. Charles was out as a pacesetter and wasn't supposed to be leading the race, but the sequence in which the safety car had appeared had put him there. With one lap to go, the stranded car was rescued, and the safety car pulled in. I chanced my luck at a dive through the final bend and got past one more car to land in 3rd place with Charles Rainford in 1st and my mate Paul in 2nd.

The battle from 10th to 3rd was not what I had planned, but I was so excited that it had happened. It was a perfect way to end day 2 of the Ready 2 Race program, and it was now time to relax at the hotel ahead of our final day and three remaining races.

Day 3 - 3 More Races

The evenings between the days of the Ready 2 Race Program are very social. Over dinner, I caught up with a number of the other drivers, including my new mate Paul, who had driven exceptionally well on the first day of races. Paul, like me, is racing in the challenge series in 2025 with his own 296 Challenge, so it was great to have someone to compare notes with.

The final day of the Ready 2 Race would involve 3 remaining races, resulting in a total of 7 signatures on our new race licences. It was another cold but crucially dry morning, which put me in a good position for another successful day of racing with - I hoped - all technical difficulties left behind on day 2...

The day started with another free practice session. I was happy to bumble around and get a feel for the grip levels, leaving the fast laps for qualifying. I enjoyed 10 minutes of laps to get some heat into the tyres and brakes, and then I pitted in, ready for race 4's qualifying session.

Race 4: Qualifying. Fast Lap... and 'Snap'.

Built into the MX-5s is a V Box Lap Timer, which collects data for analysis after each race. Camera footage is relayed over lap times, allowing drivers to study potential improvement areas. As well as the data logging, a small LCD screen sits in the centre of the dashboard. The screen can be programmed to show speed, sector times or a live feed of lap times, which gives a second-by-second overview of how your current lap compares to your best. Once a reasonably consistent lap time is set, the screen will display a positive or minus figure indicating if the current time is set is faster (indicated by a negative symbol) or slower (indicated by a positive symbol) on the little screen.

The number changes in real-time, and a lap showing a minus figure consistently is good; it means you're on track to set the fastest lap. 5 or 6 laps into the session, I crossed the line to see a new best time in what felt like a flying lap. "That'll do!" I said to myself, I carried a good pace through Paddock Hill and up through Druids. On my way out of Druids and down to the left-hand bend called Graham Hill, I aimed for the corner's apex on the inside. I hit it.. and then... 'BANG'.

Something substantial had broken. Initially, I wasn't sure if it was a tyre that had popped or something more serious. The car was moving under its own power, but something on my rear suspension was clearly very broken, as the car was wobbling tremendously.

Just as I did with the brake failure of the day before, I limped the car back to the pits. The mechanic, Charlie, ran out to congratulate me on my fastest lap and another pole position, unaware I had a technical fault. I pointed to the rear left wheel as I stopped and shouted, "Something is broken on the rear wheel!". Once out of the car, the fault was clear. I'd snapped a lower suspension arm, which had caused the left side rear wheel to flop around like a broken limb. I had set my fastest lap, but now, thanks to the broken suspension, I was at risk of missing the race.

"Don't worry, we'll get this done in time", one of the mechanics claimed. Like a call to arms, a group of mechanics jumped on the car, jacked it up, and changed the broken arm. The car was ready to go again in just 7 minutes and just in time for the race, but with a caveat from the mechanic - "It's a new tyre on the rear now, which will be colder than the others. Also, we don't have time to align the suspension. It looks good by eye, but it might not be perfect."

I was again heading out for my penultimate race with less than 100% confidence in my little Mazda MX-5. Perhaps it was a blessing that I didn't have time to consider it fully. I had a race to complete, and I wanted to win.

Race 5 - All out of sorts

The races on day two were all rolling starts, and I really enjoyed the process. Rather than sitting stationary on the grid waiting for the lights to indicate a start, all cars follow the safety car at a gradual pace for an entire lap and accelerate towards the start line in anticipation for the red lights to go out.

Race 5 was great fun, and the car felt good enough to push through the first few laps and build up a lead. Charles Rainford was back out as a pacemaker, dancing around me to see how I would react to being blocked for the lead and where I would pass for overtakes. It was a great tussle, although it was probably somewhat of a pantomime for the vastly more experienced pro. I held the position up front, losing out on several occasions where Charles' experience and expertise shone through. Towards the end of the race, the car's handling started to dwindle. The rear felt entirely unsettled, and as a result, I was losing time. I was working through possible causes, including the new tyre, inconsistent tyre pressures or maybe something else. I pressed on and completed the race to take another win, but that one was tough. After the race, Charles remarked that I was too polite in certain corners: "Don't just let me through! I wanted to have a battle!" This was great, another massive confidence boost.

Once back in the garages, the mechanics asked if they wanted me to align the car's suspension. "Yes, please. Something wasn't right there, and I can't pinpoint it. It would be great for you to just check things over," I said.
This turned out to be the right decision, as it would later turn out that the rear wheel, which had been affected by the broken lower suspension arm, was toeing out by 4 degrees for the duration of my last race. The tyre was trying to permanently pull the car outwards, which was causing the rear to feel so unsettled.

For my last race, I was to start with a car with working brakes and the correct suspension setup. This was an opportunity to end on a high.

Race 6 - The Final Challenge

The final race was a welcome reward. Three solid days of driving back to back is gruelling. I had a bruised left shoulder from the bucket seat, and relentless right-hand turns had rewarded an equally tender right knee, which had been knocking against the roll cage through the left-hand bends. I wasn't fussed about winning; I just wanted to finish - at least, that's what I told myself on the sighting lap. Thanks to its suspension setup, the car felt fantastic, and I could push through the corners faster than before. The drawback to my performance was fatigue. I was knackered, and rightfully so. The race was underway, and I was again at the front of the pack. I had a couple of battles with Charles and one with my mate Paul, too. I'd taken on Charles's advice and took a more aggressive line, blocking him into turns and on the straights. It turned out to be the most rewarding race of the week, and it ended with me crossing the line once more in first place. A waved chequered flag had never before felt so poignant.

My First Podium

As part of the conclusion to the three-day course, the organisers totted up numbers and worked out a championship victory list. I'd been so consumed by the technical faults and the issues in the races that had finished under safety cars that I genuinely had no idea how well I'd performed in comparison to the other drivers. The event organiser, Sam, gathered all the drivers around the podium and revealed the results. "In first place, a driver that's been consumed with technical issues, including brake failure and suspension issues..." I couldn't believe it. Was this me, or had someone else had similar issues? Sam carried on: "he drove consistently well and won most races. Congratulations... John Marcar!"

I didn't know how to react. I was ecstatic. I walked up to the podium and stood on the first-place podium box. In second place was my new mate, Paul. We were both grinning like excited teenagers and Callum, a young driver from Northern Ireland, was in third place. Callum had been consistently in the fast groups and had provided some great battles in the races.

With a spray of champagne, my week was complete. At that moment, I was a fully qualified racing driver with six signatures added to my licence and, to top it all, a tournament win. I thought back to my nerves and apprehension ahead of the course. I didn't necessarily want to win; I just wanted to not be the slowest. But I'd surpassed all personal expectations. It felt brilliant. As a last bonus, my dad, who had been working locally, had managed to spare some time and watch almost all of my races on the two days. Crucially, he managed to stay and see me on the number 1 spot. He might have even got a spray of champagne.

Final Debrief and a weekend to recover

Over a final afternoon lunch, Sam from Ferrari UK took a moment to speak to all drivers on a one-to-one basis, offering feedback on everyone's performance. He sat beside me and said, "Feedback-wise, I haven't much to say. You drove well and won. But..." (there's always a but!) "You need to be aware that because of your victory, we have no choice but to put you in the faster class for the Challenge Series." Sam went on to explain that I was now to prepare for some more challenging competition. Many of the drivers that have entered the series for 2025 have 2-3 years of experience under their belts already. Whilst the wave of winning the mini-tournament was tremendous and a real confidence boost, the reality of what comes next was rapidly starting to sink in.

I enjoyed a restful weekend with family in London before heading home to my partner, who had been eagerly awaiting my return to Warwickshire. I'd been updating my Instagram stories with progress details, and I was utterly overwhelmed by the number of wonderful comments and messages. As I write this entry almost a week later, I'm still working through the backlog.

Next up for me is to get my racing kit sorted, work on some fitness and prepare for the first official practice day, which is organised by Ferrari on April 1st at Silverstone.

This entry has been a long one, but if you've made it this far, I'm genuinely grateful. The next entry will be written and published around the test date. Until then, you can keep up to speed with my antics via @JohnMarcar on Instagram.

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John Marcar’s Ferrari Challenge Diary:
The Prologue >> READ HERE
Chapter 1: ‘Ready 2 Race’ >> READ HERE
Chapter 2: ‘Let's Start Off by Winning’ >> READ HERE
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words by John Marcar
photography by Henry Faulkner-Smith and Ken Marcar