In the immediate aftermath of his fifth consecutive championship in NASCAR's premier division, Jimmie Johnson received some bad news. And it came from his crew chief, Chad Knaus.

"I've got some hard discussions to have with Jimmie this weekend," Knaus said Sunday evening at Homestead-Miami Speedway, "about some testing that he's going to have to take part in."

Johnson just laughed and rolled his eyes, as if to say, "Can't it wait?" But that's the thing about his No. 48 team, the most buttoned-down unit in the Sprint Cup garage area, a group that approaches everything with a level of meticulousness that would impress even NASA engineers. Their firesuits still reeked of the champagne sprayed on the championship stage, the little black and gold stars that had been shot from confetti cannons still stuck to everything, they hadn't even begun the victory party that would take place later that night at a Miami Beach nightclub. But in Knaus' mind, the wheels were already turning toward 2011, and a potential sixth crown in a row.

"Here's the facts. The 2010 season ended two hours ago," Knaus told reporters after the race. "And 2011 started two hours ago. We have started preparing at Hendrick Motorsports for next year, and we are full force to make sure that we take a better product to the race track next year, and it's going to be so. So we are hard at it."

The immediacy is understandable, and not just because Goodyear has scheduled a tire test on the new surface at Daytona International Speedway for mid-December. The reality is, the No. 48 cars simply weren't as strong this year as they'd been in the past, a fact that clearly ate at Knaus even after the championship had been won. Over the final few races, it was painfully obvious to everyone at Hendrick Motorsports that Denny Hamlin's cars were faster. At Texas, the No. 11 car ran away and hid. At Phoenix, Knaus repeatedly asked Johnson for more speed that neither of them could find. Even Sunday, the car wasn't as good as they hoped it would be, although with a few tweaks and some track position it was ultimately strong enough to finish second.

"I would say, it was one of the more difficult Chases for us, speed-wise," Johnson said.

And yet they still won it all, a testament to a resilient organization and a driver without peer. What does it say about a team that, even in its weakest season, is still strong enough to cut the heart out of the competition with everything on the line? This was the year to bring the No. 48 team down, a year where the rest of the garage no longer seemed intimidated, where Johnson's cars weren't as good, where at different points in the Chase they needed crucial events like a mid-race pit crew swap or a fuel mileage scenario to stay in the hunt. And now they have five silver trophies. If Johnson and Knaus can't be toppled in a season where they're at their most vulnerable, and instead use this title run as some sort of clarion call for improvement, goodness knows how much longer they might stay on top.

"I think that's a question everybody is going to ask themselves when they go home: How do we beat those guys?" said Carl Edwards, who with victories in the final two races set himself up as a prime challenger in 2011. "I believe that our slope, our game is a little steeper than theirs is right now. The question is, can we keep that going, because on average, they have just been better than everyone else."

Particularly when Johnson is as mentally tough as he was this year, when he never once cracked under the pressure of the tightest points battle of his championship reign. Sure, there were the attempts, obvious and understated, to get into Hamlin's head and heap all the pressure on his younger rival, which from an outsider's perspective clearly seemed to work. But seeing Johnson over the final three weeks, it was amazing just how absolutely unruffled he was by all that went on around him. The night before the pivotal Texas race, he was grating horseradish with celebrity chef Mario Batali at a charity event. The night before opening practice at Phoenix, he was welcoming the Gin Blossoms as part of his concert series. Thursday night, he paid a visit to Juan Montoya's charity gala in Miami Beach.

Each time he was just plain ol' Jimmie, the laid-back Southern Californian, quick with a handshake and at ease in conversation, smiling and working the room as if the season had already ended and his fifth championship trophy were already on the shelf. A few years ago, he went into kind of a bunker mentality toward the end of the Chase. This season, on the night before a Texas race that would once again prove pivotal in the playoffs, he wore a chef's uniform and zested limes or made Bloody Marys under Batali's direction.

"It's not like I'm a cook by any means," he said later that night. "But breakfast, lunch, dinner, I'm the one in there making it. My wife has a few dishes. But I can't sit still, especially at the track. It's a great way to stay busy. I'll make us breakfast burritos or tacos, I have a good breakfast sandwich I do. I have a lot of time, I'll get potatoes, pancakes and bacon and eggs cooked up. Dinner is same thing. Just have some fun with the grill."

All this, in the midst of his closest championship race since 2004. The next week, he was up on stage speaking to associates and guests of car sponsor Lowe's in a concert hall. Johnson has always had a cool demeanor inside the car, but this year even outside he was completely imperturbable. He arrived in South Florida last week cracking jokes. For all the shortcomings of his cars or his pit crew, despite operating in the final weeks from an unheard-of (for him) points deficit, between the ears he was as sharp as ever. And that, as much as anywhere else, was where his fifth title was won.

Granted, he had been through this championship-hunt wringer a few times before, and his legacy was iron-clad regardless of what happened this year. Early in the season this self-professed former "C-class driver" had already made peace with the idea that one day his reign atop NASCAR would come to an end. But his ability to stay calm amid the storm -- and it indeed got stormy between the top two teams over the final three weeks -- never ceases to be impressive. Throughout the Chase endgame, he never showed any outward sign of being anxious. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it, even with all that was at stake.

"This has a different feel," Johnson said. "And even coming in, even through the race, the final races of the Chase, I've been saying all along, I've had a good time with this. This has been fun. I was, one, so happy to be a part of three guys racing for the championship, then obviously going for five in a row. I have really soaked in this experience and enjoyed it and just so happy to come out on top."

Which is where he is, again. Now, the frightening part -- the best team in NASCAR knows it has to get better, that moxie and perseverance can buoy a program only for so long. Knaus is eager to start testing again, eager to start getting some speed back into that blue and white car, eager to try and restore the cloak of invincibility that for so long has been wrapped around this unit. Only for the No. 48 team can a championship season be viewed as a wake-up call. There are so many people waiting on Jimmie Johnson's reign to end. And yet, you wonder if five is just the beginning.

The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.