Jamie McMurray could not sleep on the night before qualifying for the Brickyard 400, but his restlessness had nothing to do with nerves. Over and over again, he ran qualifying laps around Indianapolis Motor Speedway in his head, trying to get down a rhythm. He thought he had a legitimate shot at the pole, and was crushed the next day when he qualified in fourth position. He went back to the motorhome, where wife, Christy, picked up on his frustration, and offered sage words of advice.

"Heck with the pole," she told her husband. "Win the race."

Christy and Jamie McMurray celebrate at Indianapolis.

Win the race. What a novel concept in this era of Chase berths and postseason positioning, where the biggest push isn't necessarily to get to Victory Lane, but to get inside the top 12 in points following the fall event at Richmond. It gets overlooked these days, as the clock counts down to championship contention and the races blend one into another, forming stepping stones toward a larger prize. But the past two Sprint Cup races have offered clear reminders that winning on a given weekend can bring so much joy, relief, and accomplishment in and of itself, regardless of any bigger picture. David Reutimann and McMurray have shown us that, indeed, it's all about winning the race.

As it stands now, it appears neither driver will make the Chase. With five races remaining until that ballyhooed cutoff event on Sept. 11, McMurray is 16th in points, 151 back of the 12th and final position, while Reutimann is 18th, 177 points out. To get in, either driver would have to be near-perfect from here on out, and get a lot of help from the competitors ahead of them. And even if that unlikely scenario unfolded, then what? As promising as McMurray and Reutimann have been at times this season, neither has shown the sustained strength that would indicate they're capable of challenging the likes of Denny Hamlin or Jimmie Johnson during that final 10-race span.

And yet, if you think McMurray and Reutimann are wallowing in disappointment these days over their respective point positions, you're kidding yourself. Two weeks ago at Chicagoland Speedway, Reutimann muscled past Jeff Gordon and then outran Carl Edwards to score a victory that erased any lingering doubts about his win in the rain-shortened triumph in the Coca-Cola 600 the year before. It was such a significant achievement, a line of drivers approached Reutimann in Victory Lane to offer congratulations, and his crew chief was left fighting back tears. It's quite doubtful that a similar scenario would unfold should Reutimann sneak into the Chase as the 11th or 12th driver five weeks from now.

Then there's McMurray, who's living the most charmed existence of any driver in NASCAR, even if he's likely to become the first Indianapolis winner to miss the Chase. Only three drivers have swept the Daytona 500 and the Brickyard 400 in the same season, and now he's one of them. The Daytona victory hit him like an emotional sledgehammer, left him misty-eyed, and swept him up in a post-race media blitz that made him known beyond his sport. The unabashed glee in the Brickyard victory was easy to see, in how McMurray, his wife, and his team principals stuffed themselves into the pace car for the traditional winner's ride around the race track, and in the way his crewmen climbed over one another to kiss those dirty but beloved bricks.

Making the Chase, and finishing eighth or ninth, would not bring a similar outpouring. McMurray said as much in his post-race media briefing Sunday, speaking very frankly about how his season is going to be a rousing success regardless of whether he makes the Chase or not. Heck, he was hardly even thinking about it. And who can blame him, given all the hardware in his trophy case? Sure, the Chase is a goal, and deep down every driver wants to make it. But only one driver can win the title. For almost everyone else, the Chase just brings disappointment and frustration. And with the exception of Jeremy Mayfield winning his way into the first Chase in 2004, that night in Richmond typically brings not joy, but relief.

But winning races? That's something else all together. If it's all about just making the Chase, why is everyone ripping on Roush Fenway, which has three drivers in Chase position but hasn't won since last year? If it's all about just making the Chase, why is Mark Martin -- 13th in points, but with zero victories against five last season -- in the midst of a season that's being termed a disappointment? If it's all about just making the Chase, why did NASCAR tweak the championship format to try and make race wins more meaningful? If it's all about just making the Chase, why are Reutimann and McMurray two of the happiest people in the garage area right now?

"It can change the whole outlook of your entire organization," Reutimann said of a race victory. "If you're having a rough year and things aren't going well and you're able to go out there and win a race, automatically you kind of forget everything up to that point that's happened bad to you. You can twist things around and make it like, wow, no matter how things have gone to that point, you're able to win that race, and the sky is the limit from that point on. It gives the driver confidence, it gives the team confidence. More importantly, it gives the guys back at the shop, who aren't able to be at the race track but are still turning out your race cars and getting your stuff prepared, it gives them a little added enthusiasm and a little pep in their step, so to speak. It makes them see that what they're doing in the shop is important, and they're able to see the results on the race track. I think that's great for any race team."

People seem to have lost sight of what it means to win a race. Multiple victories the past few years by drivers like Johnson, Hamlin and Kyle Busch have made winning races look easy, when in reality only winning a championship is more difficult. Jeff Gordon is second in points and hasn't won in 49 race weeks. Jeff Burton is seventh and hasn't won in 61 events. Matt Kenseth is eighth and hasn't won in 54 races. Carl Edwards is 10th and hasn't won in 56 race weeks. Greg Biffle in 11th and hasn't won in 64 events. And all those guys are championship contenders. A by-product of the Chase has been an underclass of winless drivers who, by virtue of their point positions, still can be viewed as having a successful year.

Granted, you reach the Gordon/Johnson/Tony Stewart level, and progress is measured more in championships and less in individual race victories. But only a very few drivers exist in that rarified air, and even someone like Gordon -- with four titles and 82 wins, but long skids bookending his most recent victory, at Texas in April 2009 -- can appreciate what a single trip to Victory Lane can mean. Winning a race is what every driver first straps into a car to do. Winning a race is what every fan plunks down money to see. Winning a race is the bedrock of everything else that a competitor can achieve in NASCAR, and a lack of race wins can leave a driver feeling hollow.

McMurray won't have that feeling, not this year. No, he won't likely finish inside the top 12, he almost certainly won't make a speech at the year-end championship banquet at Las Vegas. He'll just have to sit at home, and be content to gaze at his Harley J. Earl and Brickyard trophies instead. Very content, indeed.

The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.

Related:
• Missing Chase wouldn't dampen McMurray's year | Press Pass: Indianapolis winner McMurray
• Popular win for NASCAR's most admired 'Franchise' | Press Pass: Chicago winner Reutimann