Some people race cars for fun. Some people ski. Others jump out of perfectly good airplanes. And some people, people like me, race with guns. The common element that ties all these together is speed – in racing, action shooting, and many other pursuits you’ll find the purest pursuit of speed – in these sports the goal is to simply go faster than the other guy. There is no more pure a contest of athleticism than to stand next to another person and see who is faster; our fascination with speed is such that we extend that machinery, racing everything we can get our hands on, and it’s truly glorious.
Some people don’t get speed. They don’t see a stretch of open road behind the wheel of a fast car and think “I wonder how fast I can get this up to”; looking down a huge hill on a bicycle doesn’t fill them with anticipation; the words “shooter ready” don’t make their stomach twist with adrenaline. That’s okay, because speed isn’t everyone’s thing. But for the people that get it, that understand – going fast for no other reason than you can is a pure sort of joy rarely experienced.