Without you, there is no go. You are willing your forward locomotion, much the same way as when you "put one foot in front of the other" -- except for the force multiplier of steel and the internal combustion engine.
> The power doesn't come out of my foot and go into the car.
Yes, in fact it does. But it doesn't start in your foot, your foot is just another force multiplier.
It starts in your brain, and perhaps, in your heart and your soul.
If you'd like another context, consider photography. You might say: I don't {m,t}ake the photo, it's just a machine that's outside of me with lenses and sensors and actuators, built by robots and fine-motor-skill workers in a distant land. But: you'd be wrong there, too.
I don't make bread, it's just an oven with grains gathered from the earth and water diverted from the river.
The book wasn't mine: the mechnical process of striking the ink through the ribbon onto the paper is completely outside of my control.
# "Drive, she said"
/jordan