Photo by Ali Mahmoodi
Every rider hits a wall at some point. You start dropping time quickly in the beginning, feeling that addictive rush of improvement with every session… and then one day the clock freezes. No matter how hard you try — late braking, deeper lean, pushing the bike, pushing yourself — the lap timer refuses to budge.
Plateaus don’t announce themselves. They sneak up on you. And when they land, they hit the ego harder than any missed apex.
This is the story of the first real plateau in my riding — what caused it, how it nearly pushed me into bad habits, and how a simple mindset shift changed everything.
TrackDNA Safety Note
Riding motorcycles on track is inherently risky and can result in serious injury or death. The ideas in this article are shared for general information only — they’re not formal coaching, professional instruction, or a guarantee of safety or performance.
Always ride within your limits, use proper safety gear, and practice only in a controlled, closed-course environment that follows all rules and regulations. Before trying any new technique, talk with a qualified coach or instructor and use your own judgment about what’s right for your skill level, your bike, and your body.
The best place to explore and apply these ideas is with a qualified coach or at a dedicated motorcycle or racing school. Treat what you read here as background context and conversation fuel for your own training — not as a step-by-step guide or a substitute for in-person instruction.
By choosing to ride, you accept the risks that come with it.
How It Started: The Lap Timer and the First Big Drop
From my very first track day, I used a lap timer. My coach at the time, Paul Carter, told me to ignore the numbers and focus on technique — and he was right. But I still wanted that reference point. I wanted proof I was getting better, even in the early days.
And at first? The gains came fast.
At Harris Hill Raceway, I was running 1:57 laps as a fresh street rider who still depended way too much on the rear brake. Then Paul gave me one simple task:
“Next session, ride like you don’t have a rear brake at all.”
I thought he was out of his mind, but I listened.
And bam — 1:46.
Eleven seconds, gone. Just like that. The front brake, who knew?!
Of course the early days feel magical. Every basic correction drops chunks of time. But that magic doesn’t last forever.
Where It Stopped: The First Real Wall
A few track days later, the quick gains evaporated. Suddenly, I was circling around 1:35… again and again and again.
Didn’t matter what I tried.
Didn’t matter how “hard” I rode.
The timer showed mercy to no one — especially not me.
I’d come in after a session frustrated, sweaty, and somehow slower than I felt. The harder I pushed, the more the lap timer laughed back at me with the same number.
And here’s the dangerous part:
I started riding to beat the timer, not to ride well.
That’s when you start making mistakes.
I pushed braking deeper. I threw the bike into corners late. A couple times I came close to losing the front. I was riding with tension, aggression, and a kind of tunnel vision that made everything feel rushed.
That’s not riding.
That’s surviving.
Trying Harder Didn’t Fix It — It Made It Worse
For weeks, I kept hitting that same wall.
Same track.
Same bike.
Same stubborn 1:35.
I thought maybe the solution was to chase faster riders, so I jumped into the advanced group. You’d think riding with quicker people would pull me forward.
It didn’t.
I just burned energy, chewed through tires, and went home with nothing but the same lap times — plus a little more frustration.
That’s the thing about plateaus in track riding:
You can’t muscle your way through them.
The track doesn’t reward force. It rewards clarity.
The Breakthrough: Smooth Is Actually Fast
I finally brought my frustration back to my coach at the time, Jason Litton. Instead of chasing lap times, he told me to do something that felt completely backward:
“Stop trying to go fast. Ride as smooth as you possibly can.”
That was it. No magic drill. No heroics.
Just smooth.
So next session, I reset.
Loosened my grip.
Relaxed my upper body.
Stopped strangling the tank with my knees.
Stopped thinking about apexes and lap times and “beating 1:35.”
And just like that — 1:28.
Seven seconds gone… effortlessly.
I wasn’t trying.
I wasn’t forcing anything.
I wasn’t even thinking about the timer.
I was simply riding the way the advanced guys looked: calm, fluid, unbothered. Watching them, I realized something important — they weren’t fighting the bike. I was.
The Breakthrough: Smooth Is Actually Fast
I finally brought my frustration back to my coach at the time, Jason Litton. Instead of chasing lap times, he told me to do something that felt completely backward:
“Stop trying to go fast. Ride as smooth as you possibly can.”
That was it. No magic drill. No heroics.
Just smooth.
So next session, I reset.
Loosened my grip.
Relaxed my upper body.
Stopped strangling the tank with my knees.
Stopped thinking about apexes and lap times and “beating 1:35.”
And just like that — 1:28.
Seven seconds gone… effortlessly.
I wasn’t trying.
I wasn’t forcing anything.
I wasn’t even thinking about the timer.
I was simply riding the way the advanced guys looked: calm, fluid, unbothered. Watching them, I realized something important — they weren’t fighting the bike. I was.
What Was Really Causing the Plateau
Looking back, the lap-time wall had nothing to do with lack of skill and everything to do with:
- Death grip on the handlebars
- Stiff upper body
- Not breathing properly
- Vision (looking at the apex instead of through the corner)
- Overthinking
- Riding with frustration instead of clarity
- Forgetting to enjoy the ride
But the biggest issue wasn’t physical or technical — it was intention.
I was coming to the track to “beat my time,” not to become a better rider. The irony is that the more you chase the clock, the slower you ride.
When I reset the intention — ride well, ride smooth, ride smart — the breakthrough happened on its own.
The Lesson I Wish I Learned Earlier
Coaches had been telling me this from day one:
“Master the basics. Speed will follow.”
I heard it.
I nodded.
But deep down, I didn’t trust it.
I had to feel the plateau myself — feel it beat me down, humble me, and force me to change my approach. And I’m grateful I went through it without crashing the bike, because the lesson sticks in a different way when it’s earned, not given.
Now when I see riders stuck in the same loop, I know exactly what they’re going through. And I know what they need to hear.
If You’re Stuck on a Lap-Time Plateau, Here’s the Real Advice
Not the Instagram advice.
Not the “send it” advice.
Not the “you just need more corner speed” nonsense.
Here’s the truth from someone who lived it:
1. Stop chasing the timer.
You can’t brute-force speed.
Fast comes from smooth, not from effort.
2. Reset your intention.
Ride for technique, not for time.
Ride to improve the craft, not the number.
3. Loosen your body.
Relax your arms.
Breathe.
Let the bike move.
4. Look further ahead.
If your eyes stop at the apex, so does your potential.
5. Enjoy the ride again.
Frustration tightens everything — your vision, your breathing, your body position, your decisions.
The track rewards riders who ride with clarity, not tension.
Final Thoughts: Plateaus Are Part of the Process
Every rider, no matter how talented, hits a wall. Plateaus aren’t failures — they’re feedback. They’re the track’s way of telling you that your mindset needs a tune-up more than your bike does.
If you ride long enough, you’ll hit more than one of these walls. But each time, the way out will be the same:
Slow down your mind.
Smooth out your inputs.
Ride with intention.
And let speed come to you — not the other way around.
See you out there.
