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It's a clear Saturday afternoon in March, minutes before the start of the NASCAR Xfinity Series race at Circuit of the Americas (COTA) in Austin, Texas. I'm standing at the top of the grandstands in Turn 12, the track's infamously harsh braking zone. My mouth is dry. I'm swaying at the hips. I feel sick. But I can't back out now, because for the first time in my life, I'm competing on a NASCAR team -- and it's my job to help keep our driver from wrecking.