F1: The Life Thief

Formula 1 has always been a distraction from the fact that while I have a whole community at my fingertips, in reality I’m all alone.

I’ve always hated F1 breaks. The months between seasons and those small breaks during the year, they always felt like a punishment of some sorts.

Though I never stopped to think about why I really hated them. It was more than just missing the adrenaline of on track action and deeper than reminiscence. I realized those weeks of silence in the F1 world left me with a gaping hole in my stomach and too much time on my hands, and that’s when it hit me: I have no life.

Now you’re probably rolling your eyes, thinking, “Jo, how could you have no life?” And if you aren’t thinking that, well, forget I said anything. I mean, you’re right. On paper it looks like my life is perfect. I spent a year studying abroad in England, have been invited to incredible motorsport opportunities, fine dined with George Russell, and live in New York City. That doesn’t sound like a recipe for disaster now does it.

But the second the F1 drivers finish their final laps and the teams pack up for the summer, I’m left sitting on my bed wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to do for the next two months. Go out with friends? I only have three friends and how often could you go out with the same friends every week? Go to a cafe? And do what exactly, I’m unemployed. Read some books? How long can you read before you want to bash your head into a wall? Go on a date? Ha, funny.

During my many hours of aimless thinking, I stumbled upon a theory as to why these F1 breaks really hit me this hard; F1 has always been a distraction from the fact that while I have a whole community at my fingertips, in reality I’m all alone.

You see, motorsport has been this get-out-of-jail free card from living life for the past two years. Last year not so much because I made incredible friends abroad and truly did have the best experience, but when it comes to New York City there’s something about it that paralyzes me.

It’s such a big city so you’d think it would be easy to socialize or find things to do, yet here I am with more Mercedes driver cards than friends and more signed Mercedes merch than relationship prospects. I mean, I had dinner with George Russell before having a boyfriend for crying out loud!

While F1 has allowed me to have the life I’ve always wanted, it’s also stunted me from having the life I need. When something scares me, I tend to run away from it as far as I can. And two years ago I was scared of being alone during the summer with no friends and no hobbies and happened to run into the best thing that’s ever happened to me. This sport has been such a blessing but has also enabled me to hide instead of facing my fears.

In many ways, it has helped me live. I went from being a girl who was afraid of her own shadow to meeting up with strangers from TikTok and going to F1 races alone. The girl who forgot what it felt like to laugh has been laughing for months and months and finally found who she wants to be.

But I’ve let F1 consume my life, and now I know why. Yes, I love it more than I love most things, but I think I also love the way it helps keep me occupied instead of facing the truth that I’ve just been letting life slip me by.

Ever since I came home from England, I’ve been plotting any way I could go back. And while the humid summer air turned crisp and the leaves started falling from trees, I spent most of my time in bed staring at my Pinterest boards. Instead of appreciating the life I already had, I yearned for my life a year from now. I saw Rory Gilmore more than I saw anyone, and I fell asleep dreaming about having my very own Logan Huntzberger boyfriend except at the end of the day it was really just dreams.

But after the Singapore Grand Prix, for the first time since I got into F1 two years ago, I felt relieved for a break. I felt excited. While fans online voiced their sadness, I turned off my TV after the celebrations and smiled to myself. I texted one of my three friends in the city and asked what she’s doing next weekend.

During these past couple of weeks without F1, I’ve gone out with my friends more than I’ve seen them in the past three months. On Saturday I had a bottomless mimosas brunch and sported a mini skirt and boots, strutting around the East Village like a true New Yorker. I chatted up waiters and thought about how I would find my future boyfriend. I’ve been going on walks in Prospect Park and breathing in the fresh autumn air I neglected for so long, and wondered what I had been so afraid of. Because it turns out, this living life thing isn’t that scary after all.