''It's not golf, it's not yachting, it's not cricket, it's not football, it's just my thing,'' Tony Quinn said when I asked what attracted him to motorsport.
The Scotland-born, Queensland-domiciled self-made multimillionaire, has funded the construction of the estimated $20 million Highlands Motorsport Park in Cromwell.
And my boss had tasked me with sussing out the track ahead of the complex's grand opening today.
Not knowing what I was getting myself in for, I called Dad. Mum had once bought him a voucher for a few laps around Christchurch's Ruapuna Speedway.
His advice was threefold: tell your boss to fly me down and I'll do it for you; never say die; have fun. And a request: ''I want a photo of you in the car and a photo of the speedo at 200 clicks.''
Well, Dad, I failed.
But not through lack of trying.
After a bit of haggling, we got the well-used Otago Daily Times work car out on the track.
While waiting, as occasional wafts of burnt fuel drifted over us, I wondered what all the fuss was about.
Why is driving fast around a track so exciting? When I asked Mr Quinn that question he said motorsport was just something he had fallen into.
He started racing in Scotland and found he was quite good at it but gave up for about 20 years to concentrate on expanding his business interests, including a pet food company.
Now worth an estimated $A350 million ($NZ435 million), the VIP Petfoods chief executive got back into racing 12 years ago.
Mr Quinn did not like the term adrenaline junkie.
''Maybe it's more that I'm alive and kicking ... I don't want to grow old, wither away and die.''
As we made it on to the race track, dutifully lined up behind a pilot car, I put my foot down, but in the work car my rate of acceleration was, well, sedate. The pilot car disappeared into the distance.
Finally, up to speed, with screeching tyres, squealing brakes (sorry, boss) and many frantic pleas to ''slow down'' from photographer Peter McIntosh, I realised the track was actually pretty special; a sleek, smooth asphalt ribbon with twists and turns, humps, a bridge and a section through a forest.
Not content with our few 4.5km laps in the dusty old work car, race driver Grant Aitken eventually agreed to take me out in his $70,000 Mitsubishi Evo 9, the same car that won the New Zealand Production Championship in 2010.
I'm not going to lie. It was a bit tight in there - jammed into the seat between the roll bars, with the helmet squeezing my ears and the seat harness cutting into my neck.
After warming up the tyres to make them ''sticky'', Mr Aitken blasted away. Though he reached speeds of 180kmh - twice what the poor old work car managed - it almost felt slower.
Sure, G-forces attacked my body, throwing me back, forward and sideways despite being firmly belted into my seat, but the laps with him were much smoother.
Despite my disinterest in motorsport, I did find myself wanting him to go faster.
Unfortunately, as Mr Aitken was ''winding up'' for a really quick lap, Mr Quinn gave us the red light, meaning our drive was over.
So, what did I learn: next time, the boss should send a skinny reporter for such a story.
As for the question of what makes motorsport so exciting, I still haven't quite figured that one out.
