— And after all this time, you still like it?
- I am good at it. — he says.
— That's not what I asked.
He chews his food, carefully considering my question. - Yes, I think so. There is no other feeling like it. I am part of a team, and it's still just me out there. I have no one to depend on, to blame, other than myself if something goes wrong. — I can feel the passion in your voice. The reverence he still has for his sport. — On the track, I can escape the paparazzi, the groupies... my demons. The only fear I have is the one I create for myself, so that I can control it by turning the wheel or pressing the pedal... not just one imposed on me by someone else.
The scared look on his face tells me he gave me more than I bargained for with his answer. Who is surprised by your unexpected h
