What riding taught me about life
A couple jobs ago, I had a boss named Dave. He was always on the lookout, as he put it, for “What’s gonna kill me next?” At this tough startup, there were lots of things to watch out for. I followed his lead and survived for a while, dodging office politics, unexpected projects and failures, and other things that were out to kill me.
Dave was a motorcyclist. At the time, I wasn’t, so I didn’t recognize that when he talked about watching for things that could kill him, he was using his motorcycle skills as a broader approach to the world. Now that I ride, I find myself doing the same thing: using motorcycling as a way to focus on other aspects of my life.
Here are a few things I have learned.
Don’t multi-task. Everyone’s saying that these days, but it bears saying again. Ever since I started riding, I have been less likely to look at my phone when driving a car, less likely to watch TV when trying to write a Medium post, and more likely to concentrate on one task at a time. It has been very interesting to see how hard it is to intentionally focus on the present — and how much it pays off.
Don’t get a big head. Yes, get a helmet — that kind of big head is important. But always remember when you’re riding, and in life, it’s not about you. It’s about literally everyone and everything else. Instead of worrying about looking good, worry about looking around you and seeing what’s going to happen next.
Protect the unexpected. Everyone thinks about the obvious things like a helmet and a jacket. But day to day, do you know what protection you will use for sure, every day, even if nothing bad happens on your ride? Earplugs. Mile after mile, you’re sitting on a loud machine with loud wind rushing by. Don’t forget to protect things like your hearing that can be damaged even when everything is going normally.
Do a head check. I know, I know. You looked in your side mirror, so you know there’s no one in the next lane. I trust you! There is no one in the next lane. Everyone would agree there is no one in the next lane. You know what, though? Turn your head and look anyway. Because if you’re wrong, you’ll be sorry.
Learn the difference between fear and panic. Fear is natural and useful; it tells you when there is danger. Panic is destructive; it makes you do bad things. Learn how to use fear and how to prevent it from turning into panic.
At work or in life, a terrifying situation might turn out to be a great opportunity for you — or a disaster in the making. In either case, you have to be able to recognize danger, assess it, and make a decision. The fear you feel is just your brain’s way of letting you know you have a choice ahead of you.
Commit. You get into a turn and realize you’re going faster than you thought — the turn is too tight — you’re probably going to crash! At this point, you have two choices: grab the brakes or lean harder. If you grab the brakes in the middle of a turn, your front wheel will immediately lose traction and you will crash. If you lean harder and commit to the turn, you will probably make it.
According to traction standards for motorcycle tires, you can lean approximately 45 degrees on dry pavement, no matter the speed. You are actually probably fine, as scared as you might feel at the moment. Braving your fear and committing to the turn will get you through. Panic will kill you.
Go slow to go fast. Getting there slowly is faster than never getting there. But even when you’re going fast, your inputs to the controls should be easy, subtle, deliberate, and precise. It’s more important to see things than to do things. If you find yourself making sudden moves, you are probably making sudden mistakes. Be sure to go into every turn at a speed you’re comfortable with. Don’t go fast just because someone else does.
Every close call is your fault. Yes, other people are unpredictable. You are not psychic. But yes, it’s your job to be prepared for the unexpected. Leave yourself room. Always make sure you have options. If you get clobbered, it’s your responsibility. No one in your family will care that you had the right of way.
A full-face helmet will tell you when you have bad breath. The people who are close to you, who are trying to protect you, will sometimes tell you things about yourself you don’t want to hear. Don’t blame the helmet for your halitosis; when your trusted colleagues have tough truths for you, recognize that it’s just another way they are trying to protect you.
Dave wasn’t the only motorcyclist at the company. The other rider was John, the CEO; he had taken 4 other companies to rewarding exits. All his previous ventures had gone public or been acquired.
Recently I remembered something he said one day while I was working there: that the pavement looked harder and more slippery every day. It sounded like he was losing his nerve for riding. I thought about this when I heard that the company’s assets were bought up in a fire sale recently. It made me wonder if he panicked and grabbed the brakes in the middle of a turn.
