Being a spectator from when once you were a participator stings quite a lot. My recovery at this moment is about at its halfway point which means I am watching my team from the bleacher seats while they putt putt around fighting for positions. It’s not so bad since I could brush the dust off of my camera and actually put to use some skills I may have left.
The start of every race begins the same: line up on pregrid and wait for those butterflies of nervousness turn into raging hawks of anticipation.
I am going to call him Zorro – just because.
Sitting and watching, watching and waiting, waiting and screaming like a little girl inside to ride has become my every day life.