MIAMI GARDENS — My driver offered to take it easy.
He was proposing we just do a “warm” lap, conjuring images of Canadian tourists cruising A1A during the season.
I was there for a hot lap.
One time around the entire 19-turn circuit for the Formula 1 Grand Prix of Miami near top speed.
One lap to erase the memory of my 2025 trip around the circuit, which taught me a great deal about the guys who turn in sizzling hot laps on Sunday afternoons.
If you’re among those wondering if these drivers are athletes, a couple of the most educational minutes of your life would be spent doing a hot lap. You’ll leave trying to grasp how those guys handle it, lap after lap, for 90 solid minutes. And how they don’t climb out of their cars babbling so incoherently even Stephen A. Smith would cringe.
Our morning started with the welcoming people at Pirelli, led by Alan Van Der Merwe, a former British Formula 3 champion. He explained we would be experiencing 1g forces as our cars whipped around turns — and that when drivers are racing, the forces on their bodies are more like 5g.
“I just hope you haven’t had a big breakfast,” said Mika Hakkinen, who won F1 world titles in 1998 and 1999.
I’d had a small breakfast: 25 mg of meclizine hydrochloride, better known as Dramamine, for motion sickness. Had I taken it before my hot lap last year, I might not have spent the next three days in bed with my brains resembling scrambled eggs prematurely removed from the frying pan.
The organizers of the event came to me this year asking if I’d be interested in a return engagement, knowing that since I didn’t have scrambled eggs for brains, I’d chuckle or come at them with a frying pan. At least that’s what they thought.
“Screw it,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
That led to me being ushered into a slick Aston Martin driven by Darren Turner, part of team that won the 24 Hours of Le Mans three times. When Darren heard about my wicked trip last year, he offered to go slow. Maybe even use turn signals, I don’t know.
I let Darren know if I wanted to be on the road with people going 120 mph, I can jump on I-95.
Darren took my need for speed seriously.
He accelerated off the starting line with purpose. Before I knew it, he was whipping around curves, Pirellis screeching.
I was puzzled when Darren began braking halfway through a moderate straightaway, wondering if something was wrong with the car or if the shade of blue I’d turned was that obvious.
Here’s the thing about these cars and drivers. They’re going so fast, navigating turns so unforgiving, that they know exactly when they need to slam on the brakes to avoid slamming into the wall, whereas I meet the wall on video games every time.
“We brake violently,” they say.
Finally, we hit the long straightaway. I glanced at the speedometer, dismissively zipping through the 120s, 130s, rising faster than gas prices.
Our top speed: 166.
I climbed out of the car, knowing we’d gone 10 mph faster than last year.
Then reached for another dose of Dramamine.
This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: F1 Miami Grand Prix: Take a hot lap at 166 mph (and no turn signals)
Reporting by Hal Habib, Palm Beach Post / Palm Beach Post
USA TODAY Network via Reuters Connect
