Ladies and Gentlemen, rev your engines – that is, if you can reach your foot to the accelerator. You look left and then right. No other vehicle matches your style or your elegance. Hot pink, electric body. Sleek, clean lines. Pure Italian luxury, customized to fit you. Big wheels meant for even bigger roads ahead. You trace the steering wheel carefully, preparing your mind for the challenge ahead. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You recall your overwhelming excitement when your parents gifted you with your very own set of wheels on your birthday. It was finally time to put some miles on these wheels. Wheels that were designed for performance. You were born to race. To win. You feel your heart accelerate, and your adrenaline pumping. Your mom begins the count down, “Three…Two…One, GO!!” It’s time for this baby to move. You fire on all cylinders, and without hesitation, you take off. You can hardly hear your brother crying in the distance. Should you slow down, give the others a chance to catch up? After a fleeting moment of consideration, you decide to speed ahead. You would rather take her as far as she can go, so you push the gas pedal once more. The engine roars and the sound is music to your ears. You feel so free on the open road, not a cul-de-sac in sight. You notice you are moving at your highest speed yet, 5 mph. Your hair whips behind you, blowing in the wind you’ve created. You smile. The others never stood a chance. You check your rear view mirror briefly. There they are, tiny specs, like ants trailing in your dust. You feel light, fearless, euphoric, frenetic. You feel young again. The need for speed is yours alone.
Article by Whitney Grunder
Photography by Kate Cooley/Cooley Portraits
Originally published in Boerne Lifestyle