A long time ago, I dated a racecar driver. I didn’t know a heck of a lot about racecar driving, and I thought it was a bit strange. In the beginning, I would take a book with me to the track, and I would read through all of the races EXCEPT the ones where he was racing.

He once made the mistake of telling me that racing was like sex. I was not amused by this comparison.

I remember the first time I watched him race. It was clear to me then that he LOVED racing. It was a huge part of who he was, and I was happy that he was happy. I think, for him, racing was like writing is for me, except racing is more expensive than writing…. You can’t separate him from racing like you can’t separate me from writing.

Except we did. That is, we separated him from racing because the guy I was dating became the guy I married. And then we went and had children, and eventually those children cost a bunch of money, and we no longer had extra money for racing.

For instance, the price of gasoline reached $3.99 this week, which is the most I have ever paid for gas, but the racecar guy? He has paid MORE, and he did it more than a decade ago because racecars require racing gas, and it was running over $5 a gallon back in the 90s, and I have no idea (and I don’t want to know) how much it costs now, but once you pay that you tend not to complain so much about regular gas prices….

As for the kids, just yesterday I wrote out checks for nearly $200 to pay for various upcoming field trips. And this morning? They wanted MORE money.

And so, with the four wallet-draining offspring, we sold the racecar, and my husband pretended it was OK that he no longer raced. It helped that we bought a camper and tended to spend our weekends away from home. Why did we need to be AWAY from home? Because we live less than two miles from a racetrack, and you can HEAR the racecars. And he has the racing bug, and it is just easier not to hear that.

Then Wednesday, he received a phone call. A guy we know has a racecar, and he wants my racecar driver to drive it. And my racecar driver got off the phone, and I asked him if he wanted to go camping over Memorial Day weekend, and he hesitated. And then he told me the offer, and he actually considered NOT doing it because it would take time away from the family for things like camping — but he IS a racecar driver, and this was an opportunity for him to drive without bankrolling it.

When he raced last, the children were all little. It has been at least three or four years since he raced last time. The children rarely went to the track. Instead, we would get a babysitter. I did the PR for the track, so we didn’t have to pay to get in. The kids were too small. We didn’t want to worry about them getting run over in the pits. But now they are older, and we can take them to the track. And he was thinking about saying no.

But he is going to do it. He dug out his firesuit, neckbrace and racing gloves. He will crawl into a racecar later today. He is worried he won’t remember how to race (he will). He is worried it will take time from the family (it won’t -and the kids need to SEE how much their dad loves to race). And I am thrilled he is going to have this opportunity to drive years before we can afford to fund it again (unless we win that lottery that I never buy a ticket for….).

So if you are in the Mt. Pleasant area tonight, be sure to cheer on Steve in the late-model division. I’m excited. I know he is too (more than he wants to admit I suspect). Go Steve Go!

Thanks for playing.