The window over pit straight is packed with eager spectators, all craning their necks for a glimpse of the action. Above us, the screens indicate the cars are rounding the Porsche Curves. The sound of ‘Thus Spoke Zarathustra’ rings out over the circuit’s PA system as the safety car leads the field through the Ford Chicanes. Adrenaline surges through me as I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
It’s 16:00. The safety car peels into pit lane, and the roar of the Porsche 963 echoes beneath us, followed closely by the rest of the field. The race is on. Lap 1, 24 Hours to go.
With DSC’s full team arriving at the track and Graham moving from The Cottage to the TV compound on Tuesday, there was plenty to juggle before we could get the week underway. Our team meeting over breakfast at United Autosports’ hospitality set the tone for what would be a hectic and intense week:
Graham’s move to the TV compound meant he would no longer be with DSC for the week, leaving Stephen 100% in charge.
Roles were assigned. Each of us would cover a different class—RJ in Hypercar, Martin in GT, and I was assigned to LMP2.
We had clear instructions: if anyone felt unwell, they were to step back and rest. We were a team and needed to look out for each other.
Most importantly, we were told to have fun. The rest would follow.
I’ve always been a fan of LMP2, and with it being my assignment, I was keen to dive deep. Though the class had the smallest car count, there was a lot of interest. LMP2 was also uniquely positioned for this Le Mans, as it marked the first WEC race of 2024 to feature both LMP2 and LMGT3 together, which added another layer of excitement.
Traffic became a hot topic—especially with Oliver Jarvis of United Autosports raising concerns about how LMP2 and Hypercars would handle each other on track. Through Sector 1, the #22 Oreca 07 from United Autosport was as fast as the Hypercars, which was bound to lead to some chaos come race day.
Before the race, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. The schedule was full: driver lap requirements during practice, Hyperpole qualifying, and warmup sessions were all a blur. And then there was the weather: inconsistent, with predictions of patchy rain after a week of dry running. The LMP2 class, in particular, proved hard to predict, with different teams leading various sessions as we approached Hyperpole. Malthe Jakobsen’s impressive qualifying time was wiped out when he couldn’t replicate it in Hyperpole, highlighting the unpredictability of the class.
In all this chaos, I was so absorbed in LMP2 that I barely had time to track the developments in other classes, even though Martin and RJ occasionally checked in for updates. Hyperpole, however, was a shared moment of excitement for the team. After a red flag recovery, everyone thought Sébastien Bourdais in the #3 Cadillac had the pole, only for teammate Alex Lynn to snatch it away. But the real thrill came when Kevin Estre’s #6 Porsche set an incredible final time, sparking cheers throughout the room. It was one of the weekend’s best moments.
Le Mans is like a festival that doesn’t stop until the 24-hour race begins. By race day, exhaustion had set in for many of us. I was already feeling the toll of weeks on the road, and Test Day had drained what little energy I had left. It was a rare quiet moment in the press room, with Stephen immersed in embargoed stories, and I struggled to focus on the seemingly endless test sessions.
Four years of covering the Bathurst 12 Hour had taught me the importance of managing personal energy during these events, but after a month of travel and racing, I was running on empty. Thankfully, a walk around the paddock and a pep talk from GG helped me find my rhythm for the second test session.
Personal energy management became a team-wide theme. By Wednesday, fatigue was catching up with everyone. Lordy, unfortunately, had to spend most of Friday morning in bed after a stomach issue, but Pedro, Skippy, and others stepped up to keep things running smoothly.
Later in the week, RJ fell ill with a sinus infection. He powered through until Thursday, before taking a break and returning to the track, feeling much better after a good rest and some French cold medicine. By Thursday night, I started feeling sick too—my throat was scratchy on Test Day, and by Tuesday afternoon, it was clear I wasn’t going to be 100% for the rest of the week.
The sickness hit me hard on Friday. My sinuses were completely blocked, and I had a splitting migraine. There was no way I was going to make it to the track that day. I stayed in bed, feeling the weight of being so close to race day but unable to enjoy the excitement of it all. At that moment, all I wanted was to be home. It was frustrating, but I focused on getting better.
By race morning, I felt slightly better. I wasn’t 100%, but I was well enough to drag myself to the track. The adrenaline of the 24 Hours of Le Mans was enough to push me through the fatigue.
The day of the race arrived with an urgency that left little time for anything other than completing reports, keeping track of incidents, and preparing for the coming chaos. I barely had time to think as the team worked non-stop, preparing multiple articles for release and getting ready for the challenge ahead.
By the time race preparations were underway, we were all running on fumes. The fanfare of the grid being set up was mesmerizing: the cars rolled out to their positions, with Zinedine Zidane in attendance to wave the Tricolore. The helicopter flew overhead, painting the sky with blue, red, and white, as the crowd erupted with excitement. Then, finally, the cars moved into position, and with the flick of a flag, the race was on.
For the next 24 hours, the rhythm of the race was set. I wrote hourly reports for LMP2, while the team kept up with the other classes. The first few hours flew by, with the intensity of tracking pit stops, tire strategies, and driver changes. But as night set in, it all started to blur together. Hours passed like minutes, and before I knew it, it was time for my night shift.
The night shift was both magical and grueling. The media center was dark, save for the glow of the screens and the hum of the engines outside. The room was a mix of tired reporters, some asleep at their desks while others, like me, tried to stay alert with caffeine and whatever snacks we could grab. Despite the exhaustion, there was something incredible about witnessing the race unfold in the quiet of the night, with only the whir of engines for company.
By the time I handed over the report to Martin and RJ, I was starting to feel the toll of the night, and I was ready for a few hours of sleep. The car was waiting for me, a damp but welcoming refuge from the noise of the track. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep me going.
Morning came, and with it, the realization that the race was nearing its halfway point. As I trudged back to the track, I had a feeling that it was going to be a long day ahead. The rain had subsided, but the action on the track was far from over. A quick check of the reports, a glance at the timing screens, and we were back into the rhythm of writing, tracking, and reporting.
And, as always, before I knew it, the race was drawing to a close. The long hours, the fatigue, the rain—it all faded away in the final laps. Just like that, the 24 Hours of Le Mans were over.
Related topics:
EU Revokes Visa-Free Access for Vanuatu Amid Golden Passport Controversy
Top 5 Emerging Travel Spots for U.S. Travelers in 2025 via Budget Airlines
Post-Holiday Travel Disruptions Expected Due to Weather Across Several U.S. Regions