Amalia beat her wake-up alarm by a minute, like she usually did.
She turned it off and set her phone on the bathroom sink before her seven-minute cold shower. Three minutes to dry herself, rushed to two for a quick email check —nothing. Five to jump into her usual pre-qualifying attire.
IGNYTE, who had begun sponsoring her at the beginning of the season, were horrified to learn they hadn't included a contract clause that could force Amalia into wearing a different clothing set or combination each time she worked out. Even worse, she repeatedly refused to be bought into changing her life-long weekly wardrobe tradition, regardless of it being a juicy, lots-of-zeroes-check by one of the world's top fitness attire brands.
With the exceptions of Thursdays (which were rest days) and Sundays, when she wore loose Arden Racing attire before heading to the race track, Amalia had a strict weekly workout wardrobe. All-black. Mondays, shorts and a fitted halter top; Tuesdays, leggings and a loose tank top; Wednesdays, pants and a fitted round-neck t-shirt; Fridays, skirt and a fitted v-neck; Saturday, shorts and a fitted round-neck t-shirt.
And so, dozens of IGNYTE employees pulled their hair out of their heads until out of it came the Rivas X IGNYTE collection: seven different tops, two pairs of shorts, a skirt, leggings, and pants; all of them in 5 different colors, which they kept sending to Amalia in hoped of her "getting tired" of always working out in black.
She never did. Elizabeth, on the other hand, had a wonderful time mixing and matching combinations of the IGNYTE items Amalia always found a way to sneak into her suitcase.
Amalia's smart watch rang a quick bell as she reached for the 500ml bottle of water infused with electrolytes and made her three-minute way to the hotel's gym. Another quick bell, after a ten-minute light stretching and foam rolling to loosen muscles. Another one, after a forty-minute high intensity interval training of sprints and quick reaction drills with flashing LED pods. Fifty-minute core stability workout. Twenty-minute cool-down yoga.
Three-minute timer back to her room. Five-minute post workout protein shake with complex carbs and omega-3s to refuel her glycogen stores and aid muscle recovery. Twenty-minute contrast bath therapy (three minutes in hot water, one minute in cold water, repeated four times). Fifteen-minute breakfast. Thirty-minute review of her notes for qualifying.
Turn 1, heavy braking at the 100-meter board, clip the inside curb just before the apex. Turn 2, position the car to the far right before it and keep tight to the inside. Turn 3, slight ease off the throttle to adjust the car's weight distribution, maintain momentum for T4. Turn 4, turn in early and use all of the track on the exit without running too wide. Turn 5, hit the inside curb without over-rotating the car. Turn 6 and 14, steady throttle, gentle with the steering input to prevent oversteer.
Turn 7, heavy brake, use the curb on the outside; turn 8, slight lift off the throttle, keep the car tight to the inside. Turn 9, don't run too wide on the exit. Turn 10, aggressive throttle, hug the inside curb, focus on smooth exit. Turn 11, heavy braking between the 100 and 75-meter marker, smooth downshifting. Turn 12, keep it tight to the inside curb. Turn 13, smooth throttle, careful with understeer. Exit the last turns with a smooth, steady throttle, careful with car balance. Use the long back straight to maximize top speed for the final sectors.
Five-minute backpack prep slightly rushed to four minutes to fit time for another quick Fundraiser-related-email-search in her inbox before Elizabeth knocks. Again, nothing.
A louder alarm bell rang, different from the quick, quiet ones marking each of Amalia's activities.
"Fuck!" Elizabeth's voice whispered as she gave the door a quick slap. Amalia cackled, turning off the alarm as she opened the door. "I hate not beating that shit! Are you sure your watch isn't five seconds fast?"

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Finish Line | Formula 1
Romance"This," she finally spoke, her voice low and venomous, "didn't happen." Asher didn't even hesitate. "Damn right, it didn't," he snapped. Without another word, Amalia grabbed her jacket and stormed out of the room, fists clenched, heart pounding. Beh...