Ugh.

Been busy with work, school and family to find time to update this thing. It seems mostly to be centered around monetary issues. Finding enough money for school and family is a constant pain. Fiduciary triage is necessary.

Anyways, I've kept up with the autocross thing and have finally taken the Mazda out for a Solo round and did the 1/4 mile in it at the Speedway. The autocross was a lesson in measured patience; so much work is to be had to drive the car quick. Much more work than the point and shoot nature of the VW. I was about 5 seconds off the times of everyone else and it was an extremely short course. Not the Mazda's forte, I'd say, but there was another person with the same vehicle that was with the gamut in times, so I'd say I need work as a driver.

The 1/4 mile was equally disappointing. Though the car feels faster, I got a lower relative speed than the VW as well. Very frustrating.

A friend asked what the point was with all that. What is the point of speeding or racing or the like. I never can answer well when someone asks me. I always blow it off like it's no big thing. And apologize. Oh it's dumb, yeah. Somewhat embarrassed that I'm equated to the losers on the street or the dick measuring contest that is the 1/4 mile. But the truth of the matter is: it is my release. I don't drink alcohol, I don't smoke, I don't even drink caffeine anymore. When I was mad before I used to go for a run or go lift weights, but now those don't do anything for me. Driving fast is my release. There's a certain amount of adrenaline that cannot be matched by any other activity. I have to feel a slight fear of killing myself to make myself feel alive. Squealing the tires in a turn over 70 mph, knowing you're this close to losing it all. That first time you had to input a bit of opposite lock. Enough in measure and the swoon is better than any drug.