“I’VE ALWAYS LOVED SPEED”

Adrenaline runs in my veins,

Put there by my father—

Had me on a dirt bike at 9,
behind a wheel at 11.

It’s in my blood.

A lead foot passed down like an heirloom,

Especially from my granddaddy.

I’ll never forget that ride to Piggly Wiggly.

Fear and pride, fighting for control—

Praying he wouldn’t fly past the chicken nuggets he promised me,

Knowing the chitlins he was picking up would stink up the car.

His gospel music? Blasting.

He tore down those streets like it was his world,

Moving faster than everyone else,
like they weren’t even there.

And me? I wasn’t scared.

I felt alive.

Laughing in my head at how wild it all was—

His speed, my heartbeat, that smell of fried food on the way.

Summers in Nashville are always iconic

Then my uncle and that G35—

First time I slid into that seat, I knew:

This was family. This was in me.

The moment he hit reverse,

I felt that rush.

Felt that connection deeper than blood—

Deeper than anything.

We flew down that hill I knew so well,

And I was hyped for the highway.

But man, I didn’t know the car was just half the memory.

Uncle wasn’t just driving.

He was about to teach me something.

He had his music—old school, soulful.

That day, it was Because I Love You by Lenny Williams.

We hit 85 in a 65,

My brain couldn’t keep up.

The engine roaring, his grin in the rearview,

And Lenny’s voice pouring out the speakers,
singing about love like it was life or death.

I felt that adrenaline kick—

The music, the speed, all hitting me at once.

My mind couldn’t choose between the rush of the ride

And the vulnerability in the music.

Bliss. Pure and untouchable.

“Maybe you’ve never been in love like I’ve been in love.”

Man, I hadn’t even been there yet—

But somehow, it all made sense.

Like Lenny was telling me something about a future I hadn’t lived,

But I felt it all the same.

It was true, even then.

And now?

I can’t help but wonder:

How much do we choose to feel these things?

How much of it is us?

And how much is just life throwing us curveballs—

Some sick cosmic joke?

But that’s the thing about speed—

It’s never been about control.

It’s about letting go.

It’s trusting the road beneath you,

Trusting the ride, trusting the moment.

That’s the real rush.

Because speed?

Speed was never about where I was going.

It’s about how I felt while getting there.

And that feeling? That’s the one that stays with you long after the engine cools.