Always opt to experience new things. Adventure has a very special place in my heart. Outside of the sea and dining in the dark, I support it. And space…I have no interest in space. All yours NASA. No thank you. Before this weekend, outside of Talladega Nights, I knew absolutely nothing about car racing. Nothing. I was headed to Indianapolis to see the Indy 500 with my brother – I knew there would be camping, cars and lots of beer. Outside of that, I had no idea what to expect. By the end of it, I was watching every car documentary and show I could find. I was hooked. From the spectacle of it all to the barely dressed crowd down to how the drivers pee during the race. Here’s how it all went down.
Let’s start with the camping. Let me begin by saying I can camp, okay? I’m a city girl who loves the country. I can rough it. So my brother brings two tents. One for him and his girlfriend, one for me. Let’s compare these tents, shall we? One was definitely made in this century and the other one looked like something Cousin Eddie would have pulled out of the back of his RV. I think we all know what tent I ended up in. Insert sarcastic straight face here. I wake up in the middle of the night to a wind and lightning storm – let’s not forget the giant metal rods holding up my vintage shanty. It’s an all out fiasco. The tent is hanging on for dear life. At one point I thought to myself, ‘hey, if this is the way I go, this is the way I go’. So I woke up like this:
Slow clap for me. Fun fact: I could hear my brother’s snoring over the storm from two tents away. The acoustics of that guy’s nasal factory are outrageous. Real talk – I was super grateful to have a tent at all and if you look closely, you’ll see I had a nice little air mattress in there. And at the end of the day, I’m still alive and have a fun story to tell. It was all about the experience, people!
So now it’s race-day. It’s like tailgating gone wild. You can bring all the alcohol and food you want into the stadium. Only rule is no glass. What? What kind of magic kingdom is this? It’s quite literally a free for all. I saw people rolling in with coolers stacked up on dollys, cases of beer duct-taped around them like backpacks, wagons on wagons. I’m telling you, it’s something else. And the attire is on a different level. Anything goes. Honestly, if you have a bad self-esteem, go to the Indy 500. Nobody cares about anything here. Zero judgements. It’s like a patriotic amusement park met a country music festival and went to a waterpark. ‘Merica. Bandanas as shirts, men in speedos, lotta rips and a lotta jorts – gang’s all here!
And the track is just HUGE. 2 1/2 miles around. I had no idea. It doesn’t look that big on TV. I couldn’t even see the 4th turn from where I was. There wasn’t a single second of that race I was bored. I just thought it was all so cool. I wanted to learn as much as I could about a sport I wasn’t familiar with. I have always been eager to learn and to understand. Curiosity in my is one of my best and worst attributes. I’m one of the nosiest, needs to know everything all the time bitches you’ll ever meet but it also contributes to my need for adventure.
I highly recommend everyone do this at least once in their lives – especially if you’re into awkward bathroom situations. But seriously, it really is quite the experience. I would go again no questions asked. It also didn’t hurt that my brother knew all the ropes and I didn’t contribute to a single second of the planning process. The best kind of adventure! So THANKS BRO & friends. Until next time. And here’s a PSA: The documentary Senna is an unbelievable and remarkable story. Watch it, you’re welcome. Also on Netflix is Formula 1 : Drive to Survive. Addicted. Monte Carlo Grand Prix, here I come. Add that to my bucket list. Keep adding to your bucket list, that’s what I say. (I’ve never said that). But I will say this: Keep searching for whatever makes you feel alive. And then I’ll close this out with a huge middle finger to Southwest and a colossal LET’S GO BLUES!