Out on track, we’re warriors. Elbows out, pushing limits, fighting for every inch like it’s life or death. The adrenaline is unreal, and in the moment, it feels like there’s nothing else that matters. But when the checkered flag flies and the helmets come off… all that tension disappears. We shake hands, laugh about the close calls, and end up talking about our kids. How old they are, the funny stuff they’ve been doing, and how hard it is to be a dad while living this crazy racing life. It’s wild how someone you were just battling at 200 mph becomes a friend the second the race ends. That’s racing. That’s respect.