Why Getting Back on the Motorcycle After an Accident Is Crucial

Imagine you're cruising down the road on your motorcycle, feeling the wind rush against your face, the hum of the engine beneath you, and the freedom of the open road.

But then, out of nowhere, it happens.

An accident.

You're thrown from the bike, the world spinning in a blur of pain, fear, and confusion.

In that instant, everything changes.

Fear takes hold.

It’s not just the physical injuries that leave scars.

It’s the mental and emotional trauma that digs in deep.

The moment you hit the ground, a seed of fear is planted in your mind.

And if you don’t deal with it quickly, that seed grows roots.

Those roots anchor themselves deep within you, wrapping around your thoughts, your actions, and your sense of self.

The longer you let it fester, the harder it becomes to shake off.

I know a little bit about this because I've been riding motorcycles in LA for over 30 years and have had my share of accidents:

• getting hit on the freeway and going down, sliding and rolling on the pavement at 70mph
• having a car turn left in front of me and me tumbling over his hood
• or the dog that ran across the street, sending me flying over my bike

To name just a few.

But this isn’t just about motorcycles; this is about life.

Fear is insidious.

It doesn’t just show up after a crash—it’s there every time you face a challenge, every time you step out of your comfort zone.

It whispers in your ear, telling you to back down, to stay safe, to avoid the risk.

And unless you act quickly to uproot it, that fear will keep you stuck, unable to move forward, paralyzed by the “what ifs.”

I’ve seen this happen on the mat, in business, and in life.

Fear can hijack your mind, freeze your body, and hold you back from becoming the person you’re meant to be.

But there’s a way out.

And it starts by getting back on the bike.

How I Let Fear Take Hold (And What It Cost Me)

A few days ago, I had a moment on the Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu mat that shook me to my core.​

I’ve been training for about a year, working my way up, pushing myself through the tough days.

But this day was different.

It was a routine drill—a simple escape exercise for being mounted.

But something went wrong.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t tap.

Panic set in.

My mind blanked out, and my instincts took over.

I lashed out, punching my training partner in the heat of the moment.

It was raw, primal, and embarrassing.

I won’t lie to you.

I was rattled.

The fear was real, and it hit me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I even found myself crying afterward, not just from the physical pain but from the emotional wound I’d inflicted on myself.

I had let fear get the better of me, and it wasn’t just a blow to my ego—it was a blow to my spirit.

The worst part?

I didn’t know if I could get back on the mat.

It felt so much worse than being choked and blacking out.​

I took the next day off, trying to shake the memory of that incident, trying to convince myself it wasn’t a big deal.

But deep down, I knew it was.

The fear was already starting to sink its hooks in.

I showed up to class the next day, not to train but just to observe.

I thought I could handle it, but as soon as I saw the guys running the same drill, that fear and anxiety hit me all over again.

I felt small, weak, and out of control.

I was stuck in my own head, and I didn’t know how to get out.

I knew I had two choices: let the fear take root and grow, or face it head-on.

Facing the Fear and Getting Back on the Bike

The fear wasn’t going to go away on its own.

I knew that if I didn’t do something about it, it would only get worse.

The more I avoided the mat, the stronger that fear would become, until it controlled every aspect of my training and, ultimately, my life.

So, I made a decision.

I had to get back on the bike, metaphorically speaking.

I couldn’t let fear win.

Sunday came around, and it was open mat time.

One of my buddies, who had seen the whole incident, was there.

I went up to him and asked for help.

I asked him to put me in the same shitty position, the one that had scared the hell out of me.

I needed to feel it again, to face that fear head-on, and to learn what I could do differently next time.

And that’s exactly what we did.

He patiently walked me through it, step by step.

He showed me how to create space with my hips, how to tap with my feet when my hands were trapped, and how to stay calm under pressure.

We drilled it over and over until the fear started to loosen its grip.

It wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t as paralyzing as before.

The fear didn’t disappear overnight.

I still felt it every time I thought about getting mounted.

But I learned something crucial: the only way to conquer fear is to confront it directly.

You can’t run from it, hide from it, or hope it’ll just fade away.

You have to face it, over and over again, until it loses its power over you.

Getting back on the bike—or the mat—isn’t just about proving something to yourself.

It’s about reclaiming control.

It’s about taking back your power and refusing to let fear dictate your life.

The Power of Getting Back on the Bike

The fear I faced on the mat was intense, but it’s nothing compared to the fear that can take hold after a motorcycle accident—or any traumatic event in life.

It’s easy to let fear control you, to let it keep you from getting back on the bike, from pursuing your goals, from living your life fully.

But you can’t afford to let that happen.

When you get back on the bike after an accident, you’re not just riding again—you’re reclaiming your freedom.

You’re proving to yourself that you’re stronger than your fear, that you’re capable of overcoming whatever life throws at you.

And this isn’t just about motorcycles.

It’s about everything.

Whether you’ve faced rejection in business, failure in a relationship, or a setback in your personal life, the principle is the same.

The longer you wait to face your fear, the stronger it becomes.

But if you act quickly—if you get back on the bike as soon as possible—you can break the cycle of fear and regain control.

Fear wants to keep you small.

It wants to keep you safe, comfortable, and stuck.

But you’re not meant to live a small life.

You’re meant to take risks, to face challenges, to push yourself beyond your limits.

The moment you choose to get back on the bike, you’re choosing courage over fear, growth over comfort, and action over stagnation.

You’re choosing to live life on your terms, not dictated by the “what ifs” that fear tries to impose on you.

The Real Lesson: Courage Is a Muscle You Must Train

Courage isn’t something you’re born with.

It’s something you develop, just like any other skill.

And the only way to develop courage is to practice it, day in and day out, especially when it’s hard, especially when you’re scared.

When you get back on the bike after a crash, you’re training your courage.

You’re building resilience.

You’re teaching yourself that you can handle whatever comes your way, that you’re not defined by your failures, but by how you respond to them.

In martial arts, we train the body and the mind to be strong, flexible, and resilient.

But the most important training is for the spirit.

It’s about learning to face fear and not back down.

It’s about showing up, even when you’re scared, even when you’re unsure, even when everything inside you wants to quit.

That’s the real power of getting back on the bike.

It’s not just about overcoming fear—it’s about becoming the kind of person who isn’t ruled by fear.

The kind of person who steps up, who takes action, who lives life fully, even in the face of uncertainty.

Your Next Step: Get Back on the Bike

If you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you’ve faced your own fears recently.

Maybe you’ve been knocked down, sidelined by a setback, or overwhelmed by the challenges in front of you.

Maybe you’re wondering if you have what it takes to get back up and keep going.

I’m here to tell you that you do.

But you can’t wait.

The longer you let fear control you, the harder it becomes to break free.

You have to act now, while the memory of that fear is still fresh, while the wound is still raw.

Get back on the bike, whatever that means for you.

It might be literal—it might be getting back on your motorcycle after a crash.

Or it might be metaphorical—getting back to the gym, the office, the project you’ve been putting off.

Whatever it is, don’t let fear win.

Don’t let it keep you stuck.

Take that first step, even if it’s small, even if it’s scary.

Face your fear head-on, and show it that you’re stronger than it is.

Because you are.

And every time you get back on the bike, you’re not just overcoming fear—you’re building a life of courage, success, and happiness.

You’re becoming the person you’re meant to be, one ride, one step, one moment at a time.