 The Red Bull Air Race is a thrill to see live. Watching pilots turn on a dime at 200 miles an hour is enough to keep every fan out of his seat. But this past weekend I got to experience it first hand, and it nearly made me pass out. Good? Yeah. Perfect. Okay, I'll show you some snap bows. Okay? Yeah. I'll show you a roll, 808, okay? Okay. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight. All right. And the other side. And a high G turn. Okay, we have like five Gs now. Okay, diving down to the race course. And lift, right, left. Gate number four, and go. Vertical turning maneuver. And we're going back. All right. It was exhausting, and I was just a passenger. The pilots endure these conditions while competing, where precision matters, and every second can mean the difference between victory or defeat. For me, victory was just not using the sick bag. Okay? Yeah. Even later, I'dなal pat me like that.