Every year just before New Year’s Eve I make it a point to come up with five goals to accomplish for the 12 months ahead. I’m admittedly Type-A, so of course I can’t pick just one New Year’s resolution.

What were the five goals? I’ll get into the full list in another post, but here’s all you need to know right now. Goal No. 4 was to attend my very first NASCAR race, and that I did on Sunday, Oct. 10, 2010 at Auto Club Speedway in Fontana, Calif.

This track and date have personal significance for many reasons. Those I will hold near to my heart right now and not get into. But I will say this: For years I sat on my couch (nearly) every weekend soaking in everything I could during a NASCAR race, from the fickle art of a well-timed pit stop to the latest driver drama, and I would imagine the day that I would go to my first race …

It didn’t disappoint. It surpassed. NASCAR was everything I thought it would be and more. But before I get into that, it’s time to answer a question I get asked frequently.

How did a fashion-loving girl from Montana get into NASCAR? It’s actually not as strange of a story as you may think…

During my senior year of high school I covered the races at the local track, Mission Valley Speedway, and it was here that I first fell – hard – for racing. Being young and eager to learn, I helped up in the box counting laps and making sure the driver’s positions changed on the pole when a pass was made. After doing that for a while I had the chance to write the weekly story about each Saturday’s race for my hometown newspaper. For a girl who was the editor of the high school paper, this was a ripe opportunity. I had one goal and one goal only – to get clips. Little did I know I would gain something far more valuable, an insatiable taste for racing.

It was around this time that I had my first TV – in my room. This was a big deal for me. It’s not like now where every kid in middle school seems to have one. On that TV I got two stations, and every weekend one of those stations seemed to be showing cars … driving around in a circle. And one day I started watching, because after covering the race, I was kind of starting to get interested in this thing (though I wouldn’t yet admit it).

One day a while later the two girls who really got me into NASCAR, Heidi and Carrie, were up at my parents’ house watching the race with us (this time on the big screen in the living room). They told my mom, dad and me to pick a driver to follow. Mom chose Elliot Sadler because he was then driving the M&M’s car and she thought it was cute. Dad chose Matt Kenseth because, well, Matt’s sponsor was DeWalt, and since my dad is in construction and has every DeWalt tool I could ever imagine, it made sense. But what he didn’t know (and what I quickly told him after he made his pick) was that Matt Kenseth was my driver, too. Only I didn’t pick him because he sometimes had a DeWalt logo on the car. No, I chose him because a few years earlier (in 2000) he was the Sprint Cup’s Rookie of the Year (so I knew he could really race), and there was just something about his driving style and demeanor that I was drawn to.

So, imagine my excitement when that year, in 2003, Matt is the Sprint Cup Champion, which in case you don’t know, is a really big deal. It took my fandom to a whole new level.

So, back to what first drew me to racing.

When I was covering the races I was sucked in by the drivers’ passion during my post-race interviews. Imagine a high school blonde interviewing guys decades her senior all sweaty and stinking of gasoline after a race. I heard more curse words and saw more tempers than any other sporting event I’d covered, and even though you would think that would turn a girly-girl off from the race (most of my girl friends liked interviewing the cute high school basketball players), it had the opposite effect.

Unlike basketball or baseball, these athletes had real fire and passion in their quotes. They didn’t blow me off with a one-liner about how their team really stepped it up that night. No, their lives were on the line whenever they raced, and if someone did something that pissed them off, they had no problems saying it. And this, my friends, makes for some really compelling opportunities for journalism.

Now, at 25, I find myself constantly explaining why I love, and constantly advocating for, my favorite sport. People ask why. I explain. They don’t get it. Strangers at sports bars always ask if I’m from the south. No, “I’m from Montana,” I tell them. But none of these things bother me, because most of all, I just love talking about the sport.

And when I got my 15 minutes with one of Nike’s top executives, what did I talk about? I questioned why the brand wasn’t sponsoring the sport.

And why did I start a Twitter account? Oh ya, that was to find other people to talk NASCAR with. And I did.

Even though I went to my first NASCAR race the other weekend solo, I had more fun than I think I’ve ever had in my life. As someone who finds herself too “big city” for Montana, but too “small town girl” for California; and as someone who feels like she never quite fits in 100 percent anywhere; I have to say, I finally found a place that just feels right. And now my obsession has turned into an addiction.

I’ll let the photos tell the story of my first live NASCAR experience. After all, if you’ve made it this far and you have absolutely no interest in the sport, the least I can do is give your eyes a rest. And if you are, well, enjoy the awesome pictures that I still get a rush looking at.

“Auto racing, bull fighting and mountain climbing
are the only real sports …  all the others are games.”
–Ernest Hemingway

How would Matt Kenseth remember me? Oh ya, I was that girl who was so nervous and excited to meet him that I hit my head on the top of the golf cart climbing in…

I’d like this photo better if I was kissing the trophy.

What other sport gives fans this kind of access?

I had the chance to sign the wall at Auto Club Speedway. So I did … with a pink Marc Jacobs Sharpie.

I especially loved the driver introductions. And I’m convinced my 15-year-old sister has this picture of Kasey Kahne I took hanging on her bulletin board.

Seeing the drivers coming around the corner ready for the green flag was more of an adrenaline rush than any kiss from any guy I’ve ever met — or even Cole Haan heels at 70 percent off. And those are bold statements coming from me.

(If you want to read some very raw high school journalism — I know, how could you pass up an opportunity like that — read one of my first MVS stories full of typos: Hobby Main Event Winner in Question)