The panic, an unavoidable side effect of excess adrenaline, has already set in. The mind is in momentary shut down and it feels as though a giant iron claw has clenched my ribcage with enough pressure to prevent my diaphragm from activating the lungs.
The messages my eyes are sending my brain have triggered a reflex response and the core muscles have tensed so that for perhaps as little as 0.7 seconds, my body is not mine to control.
My mind fires messages to my abdomen desperately trying to win back authority. I tell myself: 'I'm safe, it's okay, he is one of the best there has ever been'. It's delusional, but it kind of works. That is until we start braking for Turn 1...
Why did I say yes to this?
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