There is just something about walking through the pits that is like a zen moment for me. The sweet smell of race gas , the sting in your eyes of methanol burning out of the exhaust. Being able to identify what a car is going to do throughout the race by smell or watching it back out of a pit stall and seeing how much the car moves when the steering is turned giving you an idea of front end alignment specs if you have a keen eye. Just a lifetime of love for automobiles combined with the competitive nature of wanting to go out and be the best. Scratch that, wanting to destroy everyone else. Knowing that you are sending your driver out there with the best weapon you could put together. Knowing that anything can happen in the blink of an eye. You are putting someone you love out there and sending them into a corner at 80 to 100 MPH and he trusts you enough to just fucking send it and he knows you did your job so he can do his. To me that is beauty.