"Before yoga, I spent a lot of the workout focusing on myarms, didn't I?" He let his voice trail off, eyes gaping in awe. With thelittle sample of tha... transformative soda, he'd gotten more of a resultthan he had in weeks of working out. He stared at his arm, flexing it afew times to see if it vanished like the fur had. It didn't. "...holyshit." In another moment, he moved to flex his other arm. The muscledefinition was the same. He didn't look any bigger or stronger, but atthe very least his. He works for Rick Hendrick now.”“Ever meet any of the drivers?”“Plenty. I’ve had dinner at Bill Elliott’s house and I’d consider him a friend, though not a close one. He, Davey, and Alan came to my friend Stephie’s funeral when she died of cancer about thirteen years ago. She was married to my friend who works for Rick Hendrick, and had lived close to the Elliotts and was close friends with them. That’s how I met Bill and his first wife, Martha.”“Do you go to a lot of races?”“I used to, but. More

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