Bouncing Between the Racetrack and My Desk: What a Motorcycle Fall Taught Me About Self-Leadership

Last week I experienced something that unexpectedly reinforced a few underlying core principles that I've championed throughout my career:

I crashed my motorcycle at Homestead-Miami Speedway and broke my collarbone.        

Strange as it may sound, the early days of nursing a broken clavicle offered me some unexpected clarity about leadership, expertise, and risk. I told my team this accident might result in a LinkedIn article. Well, here it is :)

When Experience Isn't Enough

I've been riding motorcycles since 2001. My garage has hosted six different sport bikes over the years. Currently, I own what many consider an engineering marvel – a 2023 BMW S1000RR, it's not only a rocket on two wheels, but it's also equipped with cutting-edge electronics: multi-level wheelie control, a 6 axis gyroscopic-informed ABS brakes, smart traction control, throttle control, engine braking, a connected phone app, and even a fun setting that makes the exhaust sound like popcorn popping when I'm decelerating. The kids love it, and so do I.

Here's the thing about that intersection of advanced technology and years of experience:

it doesn't fully compensate for a lapse in judgment.

Despite my long history with motorcycles and the bike's sophisticated safety systems, I found myself on the ground just after turn 13 at the Homestead-Miami Speedway. Why? I pushed beyond my current capabilities.

One would say

"J, you've had so many bikes... you've been riding for over 20 years..."

Yes, that's accurate, but there's an important detail: I hadn't ridden for nearly a decade. A decade I spent focusing on my career, education, family, and life.

And so now we can see where the weak link is... it's me.        

The Tech Trap

My crash embodied a phenomenon I've seen over and over again in my career; let's call it the technology trap. Advanced systems that both empower and create a false sense of confidence.

During my first (ever) track day just over a month ago in January, the bike's electronics saved me countless times. The BMW app showed me every instance where ABS engaged – so many that the icons overlapped on the track map, I couldn't even count them all.

This safety net created a dangerous illusion. I began to trust the technology more than my own abilities and judgment. On my very next track day, just a month later, I gave the bike too much gas while in a tight lean.

The video of the crash shows a deep lean into turn 13. I have to admit, I was kind of surprised at how deep it was ??

But no amount of electronic intervention could overcome basic physics.

< insert collar bone popping sound effect here, underlay it with the expensive sounds of a sliding motorcycle >        

So, what leadership lessons can we – or, uhh, did *I* – take away from the fall at the track?

1. Respect the learning curve.

Pun intended. No matter your past experience, after a significant break, you need to rebuild your capabilities slowly and methodically. Leaders returning to previously mastered skills or entering new markets need this same humility. Otherwise, a painful or expensive fall will provide that humility.

2. Technology augments but doesn't replace expertise.

I'm looking at you, AI. The most sophisticated systems can't compensate for fundamental errors in judgment. Whether in business or on the track (which at the professional level is also a business), we must understand the limitations of our tools.

3. Don't compete when you don't need to.

I wasn't competing with anyone. I was, in fact, making a concerted effort to stay away from people. Yet somehow, I found myself competing with my own expectations, with my own vision of an ideal. In short, I pushed harder than necessary. How often do we chase arbitrary metrics in business when steady, easy to understand, and sustainable progress would serve us better?

4. Assess risk properly.

With a family waiting at home, my risk calculation should have been more conservative. In my defense, it was – on faster parts of the track. But on this seemingly inoffensive slow corner (just 35mph), my risk calculation shifted. Similarly, as a leader, you need to balance ambition with responsible stewardship of your org, and your teams.

My Path Forward

The damage to my bike was minor – a few scratches that new parts will quickly remedy. My collarbone will heal – doc says it was a clean break, nothing to worry about in the long term. My approach, however, is currently undergoing a bit of a reevaluation.

Yes, I'll return to the track, but with a renewed commitment to progressing at a pace that matches my current abilities, not my past experience, nor future aspirations. I'll respect the technology without relying on it to do the work for me, which would likely leave me with the time and space to get creative and make poor decisions.

For leaders, this all translates into a focus and preference for steady sustainable growth, over outright sprints. It's genuine, cultivated expertise, over technological shortcuts. It's measured risk-taking, over reckless, even blind, ambition.

Sometimes, the most valuable leadership insights come from unexpected places, like from the asphalt on turn 13.

Chin up. Onward and upward.

Cheers folks,

Thanks for indulging me in this one.