Well, my crew chief paces and yells into the radio while I'm racing, and even though I'm always a fluttery kind of happy, I react with a calm head and focus at the task at hand.
I'm very calm about it. If someone passes me, I'm not about to take a lead pipe to their hood. I just find a line, stick to it, and focus.
I focus hard. I'm not thinking about fan girls, I'm actually very serious about my racing.
On pavement, it's no fun - I'm lagging behind because I'm just that slow - but in the country, you're on my turf! I have a jolly good time taking jumps and kicking up dust while those fancy racers are all gasping and sputtering in both amazement and dismay. Do they even have four-wheel drive? Sissies.
I pull out all the stops. I wasn't even meant to be a race-car, but I practiced privately in the woods daily and converted myself to carbon fiber to make myself lighter. I worked hard to get into the racing world, defying the odds, and I am dead serious about winning! I might get a little frustrated if someone passes me, but I gun my engine to take back my spot.
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