A couple of years ago, I found myself on a train to Monaco with some friends. At the time, I had no idea that this short ride from Antibes to the principality would completely change my perspective on watching cars go around in circles. I can’t recall exactly how we ended up with Grand Prix tickets to one of the most expensive race weekends on the calendar, but what I do know is that I didn’t pay a dime.
Upon arriving in Monaco, I was greeted with a level of opulence my student self could barely comprehend. I saw cars I never thought I’d see in real life, and, above all, I bought the most expensive bottle of water I had ever purchased, five euros for 300ml. But this isn’t about Monaco. It’s about the spectacle of the race.
When we arrived at the track, an F2 race was underway. Back then, my knowledge of F1 was so limited that I genuinely believed the cars on track were Formula 1 cars. I eagerly asked my classmates which car Lewis Hamilton was driving, only to be met with laughter. They explained that F2 was a completely different category and that I’d have to wait for the F1 session to start.
A few hours later, my thirst to hear the roar of those turbo-hybrid engines was finally quenched, and the rest was a classic case of sporting addiction.
The Beauty of Formula 1
Formula 1, like any other sport, is a pursuit of excellence, a relentless battle to interpret its rules better than the competition. Unlike most sports, however, it features two simultaneous championships: the Drivers’ Championship and the Constructors’ Championship. While fans often focus on the drivers, it’s the teams behind them, the engineers, strategists, and mechanics, that make all the difference. But this post isn’t about explaining what Formula 1 is; it’s about why I love it.
Fine Margins
Formula 1 is a sport of fine margins. Races can be won or lost by mere milliseconds. Every team searches for that extra tenth, that infinitesimal edge that can separate victory from defeat. As someone fascinated by the concept of time and the pursuit of perfection, I find this aspect of F1 deeply inspiring. The relentless push to extract every ounce of performance is something I try to apply to everything I do.
Running Your Own Race
Too often in life, we fall into the trap of competing beyond our own capabilities, forgetting that each of us has a path uniquely our own. In F1, midfield teams rarely fight against the frontrunners, not because they lack ambition, but because they understand that their race is different. They share the same track, but they’re fighting a different battle. Sometimes, in life, you have to lose a war to win a battle.
Synergy
The magic of Formula 1 isn’t just in the drivers. It’s in the seamless collaboration of hundreds of people behind the scenes. The engineers who fine-tune the cars, the recruiters who secure top talent, the accountants who ensure the team stays within the cost cap, and countless others who never see the spotlight. The sport reminds me that individual brilliance is never enough. Our combined efforts will always outweigh the sum of our individual contributions. Even when your role seems insignificant, never underestimate the impact of your work.
Hope
More than anything, Formula 1 gives me hope. And that, above all, is why I willingly wake up at 4 AM to watch a Free Practice session in Melbourne. It’s the hope that no matter how tough things get, perseverance will always triumph over raw speed. It’s the belief that I don’t need to be the best. I just need to be consistent, to work with what I have, and to never give up.
This is why I built PitLap, an App that helps me stay connected with all that’s happening in the F1 world.