This has been an emotionally taxing year for the motorsports community on many levels. And it has forced me to look hard inside my own convictions and approaches toward my profession and the people in it, and my friendships and relationships in general.

Several friends and acquaintances of mine are sick. One of them, Fox broadcaster Steve Byrnes, was just told he again has cancer -- Stage 4 head-and-neck cancer, specifically, which has spread to his lungs. His prognosis is daunting. Byrnesy has a brutal fight ahead, against a ruthless opponent. But he will fight. Because that's who he is.

I thought about what it must have been like for him to receive that news. He'd already whipped cancer once and earned a clean bill of health, and the euphoria that he and his family felt in the aftermath of that victory was spread all over his face every time I saw him. And I saw him often.

When Shawna Robinson's racing career ended, she poured herself into being an interior designer and many NASCAR families have sought out her work. She was diagnosed with breast cancer earlier this year. Jon Ferrey/Getty Images

One of the moments in which I saw the joy was Labor Day weekend in Atlanta. It was Friday morning, sometime before dawn, and I wandered down to the hotel lobby to find some coffee. I was bleary-eyed, and in the name of sanity I knew I'd best get a long run in before I left for work. Tony Stewart would return to the racetrack that day and address the world for the first time since the tragic accident that killed Kevin Ward Jr. I needed a clear mind.

As I struggled through the operating procedures required by the fancy Starbucks coffee machine, I heard a familiar voice.

"Need some help, man?"

I turned around and it was Byrnesy, ear-to-ear smart-aleck grin in tow. We bro-hugged and instantly starting cutting up about my inability to coax this device into manufacturing some coffee for us. Eventually it began to grind some beans and the conversation shifted to football. It was opening weekend in the college ranks. First, we chatted Maryland and Virginia Tech, our respective gridiron obsessions.

Then, we discussed Appalachian State, and Byrnesy shared with me his relationship with Graham Fisher, the Mountaineers' center. Fisher lived with the Byrnes family last summer while interning at Bank of America.

Fisher had given Byrnes' son, Bryson, one of his App State game jerseys, and just two weekends ago exited the locker room, hugged Bryson and Steve, and handed Bryson a pair of his lineman gloves. That matters so much to a kid. It is validation that he's important to that hero.

Then Byrnesy broached Bryson's love of the game. Byrnesy loves that boy of his. He smiles when he talks about him. And then his eyes narrow with a father's intensity as he discusses Bryson's play. Steve is passionate about his son's passions. He told me all about Bryson's team and how amazing it was to watch his son play. That was so rich for me. It filled me up with emotion and drive that morning. Here's this guy who had endured the toughest year of his life, and he was reminding me how important it is to be present as a father and as a friend and as a man.