I’M strapped to a thinly padded, plastic racing seat by means of a six-point harness. Very tightly. Think blood-constricting tight, then tighten it up some more. The thick FIA-rated racing suit, boots, gloves, balaclava and helmet do not help in making things comfortable inside a car that’s baking under an early afternoon sun. No big deal? The car’s windows are rolled up and the air-conditioning is off. This is a car with a gutted cabin—no ceiling, carpet or any form of insulation. I am looking at 15 laps of genuine wheel-to-wheel racing ahead, and already I feel drained.
And there is another 15-lap race to follow later.
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