LAHLOUH: Sonoma Debrief: Why I’m Hooked on GT3

I made my GT3 debut at Sonoma last month and I’ve discovered something about myself.

Give me a new car, a stacked grid, and expectations higher than Willie Nelson, and I don’t panic. I immediately begin a detailed internal engineering meeting with myself that nobody asked for.

Thirty-seven mental tabs open. All of them playing audio. My fellow over-thinkers – sound familiar?

So naturally, my debut in GT World Challenge America powered by AWS went very smoothly, very logically, and absolutely according to plan.

Yah, right!

What actually happened is what always happens: I arrive, feel optimistic, immediately begin overanalyzing everything, briefly find flow, question reality, go faster, forget why it worked, panic a little, repeat.

Sonoma just ran that entire loop at 150 mph in front of thousands of fans.

Wednesday & Friday: Humbling, But Make It Fun

My first practice in the brand-new Porsche 911 GT3 R Evo at Sonoma felt like being handed a spaceship and told, “You’ll figure it out.”

The car has more grip, more power, more capability – which sounds great until you realize that means you have to rise to meet it. And Sonoma doesn’t ease you in. It’s technical, physical, and it bites back (ask me how I know).

At first, I was hyperaware of everything. Brake here, turn in there, don’t crash, breathe. Very calm. Very controlled. Definitely not mentally screaming.

Every lap was basically: “Trust the car.” … “But it’s doing a lot” … “Nope. Trust it.” … “Okay but maybe just emotionally prepare for oversteer…”

Meanwhile, my co-driver, the inimitable Thomas Merrill, is out there casually putting in laps like physics is optional. Slightly inspiring. Mostly offensive. I tried really hard to remember that I was trusting the process this weekend.

Saturday: Confidence (Featuring Mild Delusion)

Saturday was my first time on cold sticker tires. I was objectively terrified, but I put on my big girl pants and tried to trust the people around me telling me I was more than capable. It really didn’t feel that way, but I got through it and learned more about the tire.

Wright Motorsports is an incredible home for me. The engineering and management team saw I was struggling with confidence. They built me custom feedback tools to show me my progress each lap.

Adam Adelson, the team owner, appointed himself my CRO: ‘Chief Relaxation Officer.’ They kept me positive and determined.

When I went out for my next two runs, I finally started pushing the car and myself. I had taped over my lap timer, so I couldn’t see the improvements in real time, but I felt them. I didn’t know it, but I was turning really competitive laps in the low 36s while just thinking about learning.

I got out of the car proud for the first time at the end of the day on Saturday. I even had a little hope that maybe, just maybe, I could believe in myself like those around me do.

Sunday Morning: My Greatest Rival (Cold Tires)

Then it was qualifying. Or as I like to call it, my character-building exercise. Cold tires, cold track, low grip, and my confidence just didn’t come in the way it needed to. This is something I’ve been working on, and Sonoma basically said, “Great, let’s test that immediately.”

Instead of attacking, I hesitated. Overthought. Waited for the grip to come to me. There’s no time for hesitation in qualifying. It’s one or two chances, and it’s 100 percent commitment.

I improved lap after lap, but compared to where I was earlier in the weekend, I left a lot on the table. No stopwatch needed for that one. I got out of the car near tears, and knew it just wasn’t good enough.

Between Sessions: Unexpected Reset

Right after qualifying, we went straight into the autograph session. One minute you’re replaying every corner like a forensic investigation of your own existence and the next you’re signing caps and talking to kids and fans who just think race cars are the coolest thing in the world.

And they’re not wrong. Before I was a racer (just a few years ago), I was a fan. Meeting everyone brought me genuine joy, and as the only woman on the grid, I was proud to be at the table.

That shift pulls you out of your own head immediately. By the time I got back to the car, I was ready to fight. I have a reputation as a bit of a hard charger, and it reminded me that I’ve done it before and I can definitely do it again.

Race Start: Less Thinking, More Driving

I become a different animal when I see the green flag. Suddenly everything gets simple. No more overthinking. Just charge forward. Pass them all and be passed by no one.

I picked off a position early off the start, then another, and started building momentum. Sonoma rewards patience, which is great because I’ve had a lot of practice not sending it when I want to (know thyself).

Behind the scenes, my incredible team at Wright was making all the right strategy calls, and my spotter, Craig Stanton, kept me out of trouble.

There were great battles, a full-course yellow, and a brief moment of “this is fine” while avoiding a spinning car mid-corner in the carousel. Everything you want in a debut, really.

The Sweet Spot

About halfway through the stint, everything aligned. I was too hot to overthink. The car was incredible – so well engineered that I could easily manage the tire degradation and lightening fuel load.

My lap times dropped into the 1:37’s, then a 1:36 at the one hour mark, and I stopped trying to calculate everything and just reacted.

Which, ironically, is when I tend to be at my best. I fended off faster traffic, including the overall leader, and made decisive passes on in-class cars. I worked my way from P12 up to P4 at one point and handed the car over in P5.

For my first GT3 stint, gaining eight positions and having a clean driver change exceeded my expectations. I’ll take that.

The Pits

I got out with no idea of how well I had done – Thomas was already roaring around and then to my very great surprise, I realized we were in fourth in striking distance of third. And then, the penalty.

Thirty seconds for firing the engine while fueling right after the driver change as Thomas got settled in. That’s on us. At this level, execution has to be perfect, and we missed it.

For context, Thomas was driving that stint with acute bronchitis. Just getting in the car was one thing. Throwing down qualifying-level laps and fighting through the field? He’s a true professional and so inspiring.

Small mistake, big consequence. It was a little tough to take knowing we had a podium on the table, but I mostly felt bad that Wright had executed so well and we didn’t bring them home the result they deserved. It’s a reminder of how much goes into these races beyond just what you see on track.

The Finish

Despite everything, Thomas pushed hard, stayed composed, and kept us in the fight with an incredible pass on the No. 99 BMW with ten minutes to go. We finished P5 in class, P9 overall.

A result I’m proud of, and should probably be less surprised about. And one that makes me want to get back in the car immediately.

What I’m Taking With Me

This weekend gave me a lot. Confidence in race pace. Clarity on where I need to improve. And a reminder that growth isn’t always comfortable.

I didn’t come into this expecting it to be easy. I came into it because I want to know how far I can go. And that means facing the gaps, not avoiding them. Even when they show up on cold tires at 8 a.m.

Next Stop: COTA

We’ve got pace. A strong team. Unfinished business. COTA is next, and the goal is simple: Be better.

And be proud.

Show up. Do the work. Face the gaps. Close them. Repeat.