My life isn’t particularly interesting, or at least it wasn’t before I met James. 
James is 26, nearly 27, and has a burning passion for motorbikes. He has owned (in the two years since I met him) at least 5, possibly 6, motorbikes, spent thousands of pounds on them, and crashed more times than I even know. 

The relevance of this is that whilst I have always liked motorbikes, I never had an overwhelming need for them. This has changed. 

It started with watching MotoGP – this was a moot point as there was no doubt the MotoGP would be on, whether I chose to watch it was entirely up to me. I found I loved it! I’d always been bored nearly to tears by the F1, and was dreading this new motorsport, but here I was getting into it, enjoying it, laughing at the commentators, and learning very quickly not to ask questions when something interesting was going on (read: someone crashed).

From there, I started going to Snetterton (our nearest track) and watching James on his trackdays. In the beginning, we weren’t official, and he’d been in a pretty poor relationship before me, so I’ll be honest – he acted pretty badly to me. He’d ignore me, make fun of me to his friends etc. Unfortunately for him (luckily for me!), his friends liked me, and we got on, so gradually his attitude changed. (We’re now two years on, and he’s apologised, so it’s all good).

From then, I became an unofficial pit girl, I learned more and more about motorbikes, grubbed in and lugged tyres about, even when I was dressed in floaty dresses and sandals, because I loved it. Here was a world I didn’t know existed, full of people who didn’t mind that I knew nothing, and were willing to chat to, and teach, me.

James and I are just back from a European trackday in Cartagena, we went to one in Portimao in October (it was my birthday present from James!) and I can honestly say I don’t mind if these are how we have our holidays now… I understand people may not get it, may think we should go on beach holidays to Mallorca or something, but being with James has changed me into this person. Not because he wanted me change – he loves that I love it, but didn’t force me – but because I think that’s what happens when you love someone; sometimes, their interests become your interests. Their passions become your passions.

I have no hobbies to speak of. I used to swim, horse ride, scrapbook…all of which have stopped gradually for one reason or another. I have interests – I love reading still (even though I’m not always nose-deep in a book anymore), I do a little bit of scrap booking and “Hobbycraft-ing” now and then when I decide I can face getting everything out… James and I have settled into a nice rhythm where I can help him in the garage and come to trackdays, but I keep myself amused, I don’t need him to be around all the time to feel wanted and appreciated. Now, my “hobby” is being a pit girl, “brolly bunny”, unofficial (and nowhere near as good!) photographer, and general supporter, of my lovely motorbike-mad boyfriend. 

And to be perfectly honest, I really wouldn’t have it any other way.