This morning I woke up in my Vegas hotel room feeling clear headed, having slept well and awoke with some excitement in my blood. Haven't had that feeling in a while. It made getting ready easy and I had some bounce in my step as I left the hotel. Now I find myself in the SpeedVegas lobby, having checked in a few minutes ago for my supercar experience. They promise 7 laps of unrestrained access to a Ferrari 488 GTB, through 12 turns and chicanes and a straight away, to fulfill your need for speed. Ever since I can remember I've been fascinated with cars, and most everything else that goes fast; cars, boats, motorcycles, space shuttles and rockets, and all the people just crazy enough to get on or in these things and see what they can do. The engineers who design them, the technicians who build and maintain them, and the people that love to drive them. Race teams, race families, movies about racing, and when I was growing up seeing images with the jagged lines of Lamborghini's and the smooth sexy lines of a Ferrari. To me, the Ferrari is the culmination of the super car, fast and agile, billed as balanced and nimble, and a long history of racing tradition pumping through the cylinders. Today I get to drive one. I've never even sat in one, maybe only seen a handful in person, and they claim I'll get to see what it can do, not just drive it around the block. As I wait in the lobby I notice my hands feeling a tad unsteady, not perspiring but thinking about it, the tiniest unease running alongside excitement. My foot is bouncing but just slightly. Anticipation, how I've missed you. It was a sunny day about 20 mins south of Vegas and as I waited, it was blue skies and some wispy clouds, not a care in the world outside of these windows. Desert sand and in front of the panoramic windows the track at SpeedVegas. Some small talk with the other guys waiting and thinking about what led me to be sitting here. After a short wait, myself and a couple of other drivers who were scheduled in morning slots walked into the safety room for the briefing. With my blood up it was easy to pay close attention as they communicated the language and signals of both the professional driver who is going to be with me, as well as what to watch for on the track. Roll on the gas, brake, coast, up or down shift, and orange, green, and blue cones labeling the entrance, apex, and the ideal place to target while you exit the corner. Holy shit they really are going to let me drive this thing. More anticipation. After wrapping up the safety brief and making sure we are all aware of the other rules we get our helmets. More waiting. More anticipation. I am Watching from the observation deck as they warm up cars, take them for a lap, get them parked for guests to get their ride. A few more minutes on the observation deck looking at the track to get an impression of the layout. When I walk down the stairs and out to the car they give you a walk around, show you the vehicle, and I'm introduced to my driver, who has volunteered himself to get into this car with me with only the safety briefing and a spare brake pedal to save himself. Is that lunacy? Some people may think so, I'm grateful for his advice and his bravery. Ricky B. Shit you not this guy's name is Ricky B. Sometimes life just gives these things to you, y'know? I didn't even need to write that part. So me and black haired Ricky Bobby are about to step into the car. As I pull my helmet on, it's calming knowing the man who wears the helmet isn't the same person sitting in the lobby. Pulling the helmet on, closing my eyes, it goes dark while you slide the helmet on and then you open your eyes inside….. It's become a flow trigger for me at this point. Snowboarding, mountain biking, sky diving, riding motorcycles, playing paintball… it seems I find myself wearing helmets or face protection or both, just before my favorite activities. As I open my eyes I breathe easy. Just before I step into the car, I think - it's exactly what I hoped for; a race car with trimmed and finished interior, the car itself not more than waist or rib high on me, no space for anything other than two passengers. Leather seats though, so pretty nice race car. Ricky is standing next to the driver's door telling me where to adjust the seat, checking that I know where everything is, and once I'm safely buckled he shuts the door and heads to the passenger side. As I wait for him to walk around…. My hands on the wheel, I feel no more anticipation, my hands are steady, I am confident in myself and my coach. Let's do this. Ricky gets in, sets up the USB stick to record lap times as well as recordings from cameras in and outside of the car. Tells me to fire it up with the push button start. Vrwhummmmmmmmmmmmm. And the dash comes to life, digital speedometer, green-yellow-red indicator on the wheel for tachometer and shift indicator, paddle shifters on both sides of the wheels, and a bunch of maintenance lights that I'm thankful to not need to care about as the car goes through the startup process. Putting a car like this into drive is a strange endeavor, hold the brake, click the right paddle, and it will go to 1. Ricky tells me to turn off the auto. Click another button. Like a snowmobile or a jet ski, it takes a little more throttle to get it moving than your daily driver. We roll onto the entrance for the track and Ricky does a radio call for safety check. I kiss all my worries goodbye as I steer onto the entrance lane. We come onto the track going 25 or so, and then Ricky starts telling me how to drive. In the normal world, this is one of my biggest pet peeves as it interrupts my thought train and distracts me from watching for traffic. But here on this track trying to drive this thing as fast as possible - I'll take the pointers. Ricky: Roll on the throttle and head for the orange cones. We're in 3rd so we're good. R: As we pass the cone, brake…. Alright now hard left into the corner. R: Roll onto the throttle… yes! Go get the blue cone. Upshift. Get the blue cone? Oh blue cone out of the corner, pressure in my right foot… R: Right turn. Coast. Brake. R: Left turn, yep you can get a little closer to that cone. Now roll on the throttle. Up shift. Throttle, yes! Click, on the right paddle. R: Yes, get the blue cone. Brake, hard brake, I'm going to help with the brake on this one. Right turn. Downshift. Oops, more brake on that corner. R: When you're getting into the brake give it hard brake and then let up as you know you have enough. Hard brake when he says brake, got it. R: Left turn, coast through these turns. Ok Head for the blue cone, now dive into the corner, hard left. Upshift. R: Coming onto the straight away roll on the throttle out of this corner. Mid throttle, steering out of the turn….. Mash the pedal. And as we're coming down the straight away the first time, over the hump, the speedometer flings from 100, to 120, tipping past 140. My questions about if this would be worth the money disappeared. R: hard brake, hard brake, Right turn, coast. Left turn, now head for the orange cones and roll on the throttle. R: Brake. Hard left for the green cone, roll on the throttle. Yes, go get the blue cone. Get the blue cone! Easy- one thought, I can feel myself pushed into the seat as my right foot presses down, the blue and white clouds, pavement, and peripheral vision starts to blur. The focal point extends out in front of us. <as sound and time start to blur.>. R: right turn. Roll on the throttle, brake at the blue cone. Coast, yes now steer through these corners. Tires squealing but the car feels even, vacuumed to the ground, I can feel the suspension loading and unloading, traction coming with the weight shifts. Throttle out of this corner. R: Up shift. Right turn, get the blue cone. Blue cone and then we're going into the straight away, rolling on the throttle… R: dive into this corner, now roll onto the throttle, yes! 110, 120, 140….. Braking into this blue cone. R: Brake, yes, now coast. Right turn. Left turn, head for the orange cone. Roll on the throttle, stay high in this corner before diving for the cone. R: Left Turn. Roll on the throttle, as we straighten out punch it. Ok steady while turning, hard gas as we straighten out. I can feel myself pushed back into the seat as these thoughts blur and my focal point narrows. I'm getting the blue cone. Right turn. R: Right turn, throttle. Head for the next blue cone, and brake hard coming as we pass it. Brake, coast, right turn. I fucking love this activity. My mind is connecting dots and gathering feedback. I can feel the weight shift, too little traction in the last corner, more brake next time, hard on the throttle. That corner the roll on the throttle is a little lighter than the other corner. Get the blue cone, dive into the corner and roll on the throttle into the straight away. 120, 130, 144.. Hard brake. R: hard brake, coast, right turn, left turn. Yes! Feel how you can steer through that? Heading for the orange cone, stay high into this corner, brake. Hard left, roll throttle. R: Get the blue cone! Get the blue cone! I feel myself get slammed into the seat as the right tires grab traction the suspension loaded and the seat pushing into me, as the wheels straighten you can feel the power biting the pavement, and my mind is running at the same RPM as the engine. Blue cone. Right turn. R: Right turn, get the blue cone. Mash the throttle as my focus narrows further, as close to the line as possible, brake, coast, now right turn! As I did my seven laps my mind doesn't wander, I don't feel anxious or depressed, and I'm not in fight or flight, I'm not thinking about me at all. The first lap is a warm up lap to get the feel and after that we're driving. Racing. Drive. I feel alive, fully integrated mind and body, I can feel the car's weight shifting, how much traction I have around these corners, I start to learn nuances in each turn, which line to hold, Ricky's feedback is clicking before the car is in the corner. Right turn, coast, left turn, go for the orange cone, now brake. Hard left into the corner and wait to roll on the throttle until you can feel the weight into the suspension and are just starting to come off the steering wheel. Mash and feel your head in the headrest. The time dilates and my sense of self is diminished. Pure happiness. The feeling of being alive. Flow. As we come into the cool down lane, Ricky is instructing me on protocol for getting parked, we take some pictures and talk a little bit. My mind feels clear, my heart feels full, my body feels well. I don't feel angry, depressed, or anxious, and I'm not beating myself up for all the mistakes I've made recently, all the pain I've felt and caused, I just am… for a few minutes. I feel alive for the first time in way too long. As I'm checking out they inform me that if you do another experience in the next 48 hours it's 50% off. I contemplated that for about 30 seconds before I put another 7 laps on my credit card. I waited for Ricky in the lobby and the anticipation is back. The uneasiness in my hands, the almost perspiration. After putting the helmet on, we get setup and back into the Ferrari and I talk to Ricky as much as possible about each corner, understanding the smoothest line for turn 1, questions about the corner that leads onto the straight away. We talk about the suspension, timing on the throttle, and Ricky emphasizes the coasting in the back section and that the car will drive through those corners. My hands are steady again, my mind is clear. As we're in the corner I can't believe the traction is holding, the car is hard on the right tires, all 4 tires squealing, I'm into the right side of the seat and I've got the wheel turned hard left. We round the warning track on the left side and you can feel the traction grab and I mash down on the throttle. Get the blue cone. R: Brake. Hard left turn, and roll on the throttle. Down the straight away, foot into the gas pedal, 130, 144! Brake. Coast, hard right. Left turn, get the orange cone. Stay high into this corner. Hard left. Roll on throttle. The second set of laps I'm in a state of flow for the entire 7 laps, I'm honing certain corners, and I'm not thinking about me in any way. Just drive. Get the blue cone. My focus is on exact tire placement, staring down the blue cone, anticipating where the car will be, my vision is far out in front of us. My mind feels like it should feel. My body feels like part of me, I feel clear headed, and there are no demons to battle. An animal like sense of being alive is what I'm trying to describe here, like when a dog plays fetch, as an eagle soars high above, when dolphins play, if a tree sways in the breeze…. It just seems like they are in their natural state. Beautiful, elegant, as designed. For a few minutes I caught that spark in a bottle. The way I'm supposed to play and be challenged, my natural state. My meditation and the way that I'm mindful. Clear goals and immediate feedback. —— Was I designed to drive Ferraris as fast as possible for recreational fun? No, definitely not. Was I designed to sit still and drive myself slowly insane behind a desk? No, not that either. As I walked out of SpeedVegas around noon I was light on my feet, and I looked to the sky a few times on my way back to the hotel. Arriving at the hotel I went to my room and my dog and I got ready for a walk. When we stepped outside of the hotel I found a spot near the edge of the building, sparked a joint, and my dog and I went walking for a couple miles in the Nevada sun. As I pulled on the joint I contemplated the dumpster fire that my life had become. Even though my morning felt natural, and the high wouldn’t leave me for a few more hours, maybe days if I were lucky; the thoughts about my current predicament, how I got here, and the many things I would need to continue to work on to get out of this mess……. These were the thoughts that started to creep in on me. The sky may be blue and the sun may be out, I might feel fine right now, and my dog and I are enjoying this walk, but the darkness was starting to color my thoughts again. I tried to enjoy this feeling while it lasted, knowing it would be gone soon, and I’d be looking for my next fix.