Stepping into one of the karts at Octane Raceway is when the thrill starts. The vehicle is low, and you've got a helmet on, impairing vision and making it more difficult to settle into the bucket seat and buckle up than it should be. The real stress is because, through the helmet's windscreen, you can see the competition — teen boys and girls, maybe some parents. One of them may be your kid, but you've got to beat them all. You floor it when the flag goes down, then screech into the first corner, losing ground already. The whine of the electric motors and surge of speed down the straightaways are like a shot of espresso laced with Walter White's Blue Sky. Fully alive now, you take the corners better, diving in at optimum track, hugging the concrete instead of sliding on it. You pass one, then two cars. But there's no sign of the older teens — they're so far ahead it's not worth worrying about. Then, the yellow flag drops — time to slow down already. The seconds are long and the laps are short at Octane. As usual, it's over all too soon. A quick peek at the printout of results. Drat. Time to buy more laps. It's always this way.