How muscular is Mario Andretti’s neck? Did he have to do some special driver workout to keep it in shape? I mean, he retired a while ago, so does he still do it now?
These are the thoughts passing through my mind as I hurtle down the backstretch of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway at 180 miles per hour, cradled above the blurring asphalt by a few inches of carbon fiber, cloth, and a fire suit. I’m buckled snugly into the back half of one of the special two-seater cars that IndyCar uses to thrill anyone with a few hundred dollars to burn. A Honda engine howls just inches behind me, and in front is the man with arguably the most famous name in motorsports history.
Terrifying bliss: my two laps in an IndyCar
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