Start line

 Before the race started, I watched two strangers shake hands. No words, just that quiet look of respect — the kind only riders understand. The light was about to turn green, the air thick with fuel and nerves, and in that split second, it wasn’t about winning. It was about grit. About the challenge ahead and the unspoken brotherhood that lives in every race.

That moment stuck with me — the calm before the storm, when everyone’s heart is pounding the same way. You can feel it in your chest, smell the dirt, hear the revs building. It’s not just a race; it’s proof of what you’re made of.

This piece is for the ones who know that feeling — who line up, lock in, and live for that rush.