Life is a competition. More definitively, it is a series of competitions. The competition comes in many forms, and is often a very personal thing. This week I am attending the Rolex 24 at the Daytona International Speedway. Obviously this is a competition between the drivers and their respective teams, and it makes a great spectator sport. But for those racing, and those of us merely spectating, there is more to this weekend than just who holds the trophy at the end of the weekend.
I am a car nut, a petrol head if you will. I appreciate both the art and engineering of any vehicle, young or old. I am also a competitive person. As such, auto racing draws me as the moth to a flame. I really love it as evidenced by my annual pilgrimage to the Rolex 24 every year.
What I find interesting though is, while I do watch parts of the race, I am all the more enamored by the cars themselves and the human stories that unfold in the pits and garages to prep, race, and maintain a car that has to run non-stop for 24 hours. I will literally spend hours just staring appreciating these amazing machines as you would the inner workings of a fine Swiss watch.
It does strike people as odd when they ask me who is on pole or sometimes, who won, and I don’t have an answer. I am really more interest in stopping and smelling the roses that are these 200 mph machines. Even if those roses smell like petrol and motor oil.