It’s an actual 24-hour race, with endurance drivers working in teams taking shifts behind the wheel. I am just me. I ran out of gas somewhere around three o’clock AM, 11 hours after the green flag. Soaked from a small rainstorm and sore from walking mile after mile (1.6km), I am full of pommes frites and at this point I retire to my own pit box to let the howls of wide open throttles lull me into a not-so-deep sleep.
Sport is an analog of human experience if ever there was one. The highest of highs, the lowest of lows, and the harrowing strain of everything in between – all motivated by the desire to not let your younger self down swiss replica watches. I may not have been in a car, and definitely didn’t win anything, but I can confidently look back and tell first-grade Jonathan: “We made it to Le Mans.”
Going to the moon (I’ll never get over this); and becoming a race car driver (there’s still hope, right?). I couldn’t tell you how first-grade me knew what the 24 Hours of Le Mans was, but he knew, and knew he wanted to be there — driving, of course. However, life happens the way it does and things change. NASA conveniently decides to set out for the moon, only after I decide against pursuing engineering after my first year in university, and I never quite had the prerequisite large fortune to fund a smaller fortune spent motor racing.
But, these dreams hold fast, and when the realization hit that this year was the 100th anniversary of the biggest race in the world lorenasredwagon.com/, there was only one place I could possibly be for that special June weekend.
The end of the 24th hour approaching, it was now clear that the Ferrari Hypercar #51 was going to take it all home. They say luck is where preparation meets opportunity, and here I certainly found myself at an opportunity. Positioned at the start/finish line, I made a break for the team garage once the checkered flag dropped, not fully knowing what I’d find. What happened next I never could have expected. Surrounded by ecstatic team members celebrating, hugging, crying – I found myself in a sea of Rosso Corsa, witnessing firsthand the dreams of Maranello realized on the tarmac of the famed Circuit de la Sarthe. Raw emotions on full display, Scuderia (racing in the top class for the first time since the early ’70s) secured its first overall win in more than half a century