When people watch a race, they see the driver, the helmet, the fire suit, and the sleek, sexy livery of the race car. They see the spray of champagne in victory lane or the heartbreak at the finish line. What they don’t see is everything that has to quietly hold steady in the background so that those moments can all exist.
That invisible steadiness is where I live. That’s why I’m the Energetic CEO of my family, a title I didn’t claim overnight. It took nearly two decades to earn.
My eighteen years in real estate, paired with more than a decade of education in energy, mindfulness, and somatic work, have given me a deep understanding of how mindset and emotional regulation shape outcomes. Nowhere is that more evident than in my family, especially in the life and career of my husband, Colin Braun, a world-class, highly decorated sports car driver.
But I didn’t go searching for this life. This life found me.
In 2008, Colin and I were set up on a date by my office manager and his truck chief during his rookie year of NASCAR. They insisted we’d hit it off, but I wasn’t convinced. Racing wasn’t my world, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be pulled into its orbit. My manager urged me to at least give it a chance, since, as she put it, “he came with references,” so I agreed to just one date. As we were sitting across from each other at The Melting Pot, we shared fondue, laughs, and conversation. It felt like reconnecting with an old friend after many years, then picking up where we left off. It felt comfortable and familiar, even though we had just met. As I sat across from him at the table, I remember thinking to myself, “he is going to be my husband.”
He was nineteen, and I was twenty-one. We met on a Monday and were “official” by Friday.
Not long after, my now mother-in-law said something that has echoed through every season of our life since, “Racing isn’t just a career, it’s a lifestyle.”
Our lives are governed by racing schedules. We’ve learned to always expect the unexpected. Vacations canceled at the last minute for an impromptu test. Birthdays and anniversaries are celebrated late. In September 2023, Colin nearly missed the birth of our son, getting just one precious hour of skin-to-skin contact before boarding a plane for an IMSA race in Indianapolis.
For many people, that level of uncertainty breeds fear. For us, it’s become a training ground.
