10 years...

I am 23 years old. 10 years is almost half my life.

Today, marked my love of NASCAR. 10 years ago today, I was consumed.

There is only one other thing I have been dedicated to for over 10 years...my family. Not Relay, not God, not Banco (he's 9), not UVA, not teaching, not Volvos.

10 years ago today, Kat and I had a swim meet. She came back to spend the night. We laid in my twin bed consumed by the footage of Dale Sr's wreck, Dale Jr's emotions, the utter outpouring of hurt/dismay of fans, and the power and effect of this one athlete over his sport.

From then on, I've been addicted to NASCAR. It's been my drug of choice.

I've been to more races than I can count.

NASCAR has gotten me through life...I worked AP Chem equations during races, I had study/work parties during finals, I've done school work during races, I raced off to Richmond after being in a wedding, I've met friends, I've spent countless hours with Kat because of NASCAR, I wrote AP English term papers on NASCAR, I've read over 30 Harlequin NASCAR books, I shopped on QVC because of NASCAR, and it's been the light at the end of a work week.

NASCAR is America. NASCAR is perseverance. NASCAR is a party. NASCAR is watching 4 hours of perfectness blow up on the final lap. NASCAR is coming back the next week to win. NASCAR is commitment. NASCAR is crapshoot.

All these describe life.

Life is America.  Life is perseverance. Life is a party. Life is watching 4 hours of perfectness blow up at the last moment. Life is coming back to win again. Life is commitment. Life is a crapshoot.

Moral of the Story: Dale Sr's death closed many NASCAR fans' chapter of NASCAR, it opened mine.

This happened in July of 2001. The first race back at Daytona.