HeyJaredThrottle Therapy is a Real Thing
From the roar of the racetrack, beauty of twisty mountain roads, and solitude of endless highway. Stories of a woman hanging on to her youthful soul with adventure, adrenaline, and how it all ties into life.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 7
- Latest publication
- Aug 30, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 17, 2026
Latest issues
The Last Leg (opens the original)
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Yesterday I was in my beautiful convertible, top down, at a red light. I could hear someone yelling and I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a man angrily gesturing at another car that pulled up behind me. He continued his tirade until the next light, and I shook my head and thought, such a New Yorker, why can’t you just chill? We would never behave like this in Italy.Narrator: Since her return, she’s been insufferable. She ate at one highly rated Italian place in NJ recently. She pushed her p
Day 5: Arabba to Arco Italy (opens the original)
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You’re probably thinking, “she didn’t finish the story. she forgot us!” I did no such thing. Sometimes I need to sit with things in my brain before I can expose everything in words. Anyway, I need to make sure you understand; just because I finally figured out how to ride these mountain passes didn’t mean I didn’t still have some anxiety from time to time.Narrator: she’s lying. she was anxious from the moment she put her gear on until she got to her final destination. I did have a much better ge
Day 4: Proof of Life (opens the original)
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My sons worry about me when I ride. Luc is quiet about it; he hangs on to spoken words like they cost him money. He will casually walk in the house and say, “You’re at the wear bar, you need a tire.” Or “That back wheel needs a cotter pin.” like he’s my personal pit crew. Max is louder. He wants a call before I get on a plane. He sends me weather alerts and crime warnings like I’m about to cross into hostile territory. I’m sensitive to both of their fears. I keep the bike in top shape. I keep a
Day 3: Livigno to Arabba Italy (opens the original)
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My ninth-grade algebra class was on the second floor of the high school, and my desk was along the windows that looked out onto Route 56, a small two‑lane highway in the middle of nowhere. I’d stare at the cars passing by and wonder where they were going. Anywhere felt like an adventure. Then my teacher would bellow, “MISS MCCORMACK,” snapping me back to reality. “Solve for x?” Uhmm…While having dinner the night before in Livigno, I texted a friend back home. I told him about my day and he said,
Day 2: Andermatt, Switzerland to Livigno, Italy (opens the original)
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I didn’t grow up with air conditioning in the home. My mother would say that we lived in the mountains and didn’t need it. She was lying. We one hundred percent needed it. So, when we were making hotel reservations and the hotels would say, “we don’t need air conditioning” I bristled. But as it turns out, you don’t need air conditioning in the Alps or Dolomites. Besides the cooler air there were no bugs. We slept with the door to our balcony wide open. This morning view did not disappoint. <a cl
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