The flag was thrust down by slender hands, it’s frenzied flutter silenced by the roar of engines. In the space of a heartbeat, a hundred muscles in Hector’s body tensed and began a ballet of precision and balance rehearsed a thousand times before.
He felt his eyes widen, suddenly seeing everything with complete clarity. The left leg began to rise from the metal floor while the right countered. His right hand rested on the gear lever, patiently waiting for it’s turn to thrust the car into second gear.
Hector felt the rear tires go through a familiar cycle where they first gripped, then slipped, then gripped again as they struggled against the engine to propel the car forward. He adjusted his right foot gently on the throttle, searching for the spot.
Hector could sense the cars around him. He knew their numbers, their drivers, and their championship standings. But he wasn’t thinking of any of that.
Not thinking anything.
Hector burped the throttle and jammed into second gear, hurtling towards turn one.