With both mismatching socks on, I pull my racing jumpsuit up my legs and rest it at my waist. I turn to the mirror, looking at the red clad girl staring back at me.
I'm on the Ferrari team, just like Niki Lauda, and they call me rookie blonde. The other guys on the team treat me just like one of them, and my managers are tough but fair. If theres one thing I don't get from them, its special treatment because I'm a girl.
I turn away from the mirror again and pull my jumpsuit all the way up, over my arms and I button up the chest part. Patches with names of sponsors are all over it, and I like the multicoloured look.
Turning once more to the mirror, I check to make sure everything is in place. My short cropped hair just brushes my shoulders, and I make a mental note to get my blonde curls trimmed.
The familiar hum of the cars and the crowd from just outside the trailer reaches my ears, and I realize that I have to go for qualifying soon. Today is my day.
Panic starts to grip me, and I can feel my heartrate start to rise.
The breathing techniques that have become second nature to me kick in, and soon I've got the attack under control.
"You can do this." I tell myself, "It's just like all those practice days. You know this track inside and out. Your car is amazing. Everything will be fine. It doesn't matter what any of them said. They don't matter now. You matter. Get out there and kick ass."
With that, I grab my helmet and my facemask and head out to the track, a win on my mind.
