Rallye Star!

	July 15, 2004 It's around noon and I'm sifting through traffic heading towards Subé Sport, the racing store owned and operated by none other than my partner in crime for the Pike's Peak gravel crew, Chad DiMarco. I'm going to go and spend a lot of money on an outfit that will do nothing for me except collect dirt and make me sweat, oh yeah, and save me from fire. That's the important part. Fitting a jumpsuit should be painless, but I'm freaking out. I mean, how many girls race cars? Are these things going to fit me? Do they even make them for women? Look at Colin McRae- he doesn't have breasts!?!? I've been karting before and have had the embarrassing moment of coming out of the locker room with a. either my suit unzipped or b. an XL suit that fits me on top, but leaves my hands and feet MIA. So that's not life-or-death, but for $600, I want to look good and besides, I want to project a serious image to the rest of the world and not look like someone's kid sister who borrowed her brother's suit for the day. What I really want is the Sparco Sprint 5 suit, as it has shoulder gussets that will allow for more room in the chest without making me look like the Michelin Man. Luckily enough, the suit that Chad recommends is the one that I want. I try on a big one on just to get a base size. Chad measures me before diving into his office to crunch numbers and come up with what I hope will be a suit that fits me perfectly. I go to change out of the suit in the bathroom and catch my reflection in the mirror. I think I look funny. These things look better on men, but I quickly begin to feel comfortable in the suit and more importantly, with the idea of myself in the suit. So this is what it feels like to be a driver, I think, standing tall and starting to collect the strength and nerve it will take to survive a rally and life outside of the rally car. When I came out, Chad and Leon had the Sparco catalogue open and were musing over the Sprint 5 suits. "So what color do you want?" they both ask. It's not like I have much of a choice. Californian rallies are all about heat, heat, and more heat, so there goes my first choice, the black suit with red piping. The blue one is out of the question. So I'm left with the white one with blue piping. I wish it was red or black piping, but I can't complain. As long as it fits. Then I need shoes. No, these are not the most expensive shoes I've ever bought (I cringe at my love of clothing!), but they are bright blue to match the suit and the blue gloves I'm getting. Chad gets up to find some shoes for me to try on, but he halts suddenly, embarrassed that he doesn't have my size. "It's just that- we don't get many…" I tell him it's okay, there really aren't many women out there racing cars. I understand. A little seed is planted in my brain- wouldn't it be nice if there was a women's race wear company out there? I get all of my Nomex underwear picked out and add a new set of harnesses to the pile, a small step in making Prince once again race-ready. The next day, everything is ready for me to pick up. I rush to try on the suit, despite feeling lost without Leon or Chad being there. And it FITS! Thank god! Then I put on the boots and gloves, and with everything fitting nicely, I look at myself and it finally hits me that I have everything (plus a loaner helmet) I need now to drive a rally car. But I don't feel like a driver yet. The key operating word here is yet. We'll see what happens in the next few days. Back to Diary of a Driver.

July 15, 2004

It's around noon and I'm sifting through traffic heading towards Subé Sport, the racing store owned and operated by none other than my partner in crime for the Pike's Peak gravel crew, Chad DiMarco. I'm going to go and spend a lot of money on an outfit that will do nothing for me except collect dirt and make me sweat, oh yeah, and save me from fire. That's the important part. Fitting a jumpsuit should be painless, but I'm freaking out. I mean, how many girls race cars? Are these things going to fit me? Do they even make them for women? Look at Colin McRae- he doesn't have breasts!?!? I've been karting before and have had the embarrassing moment of coming out of the locker room with a. either my suit unzipped or b. an XL suit that fits me on top, but leaves my hands and feet MIA. So that's not life-or-death, but for $600, I want to look good and besides, I want to project a serious image to the rest of the world and not look like someone's kid sister who borrowed her brother's suit for the day.

What I really want is the Sparco Sprint 5 suit, as it has shoulder gussets that will allow for more room in the chest without making me look like the Michelin Man. Luckily enough, the suit that Chad recommends is the one that I want. I try on a big one on just to get a base size. Chad measures me before diving into his office to crunch numbers and come up with what I hope will be a suit that fits me perfectly. I go to change out of the suit in the bathroom and catch my reflection in the mirror. I think I look funny. These things look better on men, but I quickly begin to feel comfortable in the suit and more importantly, with the idea of myself in the suit. So this is what it feels like to be a driver, I think, standing tall and starting to collect the strength and nerve it will take to survive a rally and life outside of the rally car.

Just a little bit too big.

When I came out, Chad and Leon had the Sparco catalogue open and were musing over the Sprint 5 suits. "So what color do you want?" they both ask. It's not like I have much of a choice. Californian rallies are all about heat, heat, and more heat, so there goes my first choice, the black suit with red piping. The blue one is out of the question. So I'm left with the white one with blue piping. I wish it was red or black piping, but I can't complain. As long as it fits. Then I need shoes. No, these are not the most expensive shoes I've ever bought (I cringe at my love of clothing!), but they are bright blue to match the suit and the blue gloves I'm getting. Chad gets up to find some shoes for me to try on, but he halts suddenly, embarrassed that he doesn't have my size. "It's just that- we don't get many…" I tell him it's okay, there really aren't many women out there racing cars. I understand. A little seed is planted in my brain- wouldn't it be nice if there was a women's race wear company out there? I get all of my Nomex underwear picked out and add a new set of harnesses to the pile, a small step in making Prince once again race-ready.

The next day, everything is ready for me to pick up. I rush to try on the suit, despite feeling lost without Leon or Chad being there. And it FITS! Thank god! Then I put on the boots and gloves, and with everything fitting nicely, I look at myself and it finally hits me that I have everything (plus a loaner helmet) I need now to drive a rally car. But I don't feel like a driver yet. The key operating word here is yet. We'll see what happens in the next few days.

Back to Diary of a Driver.