The spine-tingling acceleration reverberated through my solar plexus and I’m sure I was smiling. A few seconds later, I was tearing out of pit road and into turn one of Michigan International Speedway. The guy with the silver crewcut gave me a wink and pushed my visor down into place. At that moment, reality sank in, my heartbeat accelerated and my chest heaved in a couple of anxiously deep breaths. I wasn’t really nervous - people do this all the time, right? - until I was nearly supine, and two technicians loomed over me, reaching down and around my body to strap and buckle me firmly into place. All I could see of the man who would soon hold my life in his grip was a pair of handsome eyes above the face shield, the smile wrinkles around them deepening as he returned my little wave with a gloved hand.
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