I had a conversation with a friend the other day. She asked about motivation. Where does it come from?
I had to ride on that a few days but this is what I came up with.
Losing fucking sucks plain and simple.
This post has taken me a couple of days to write. It’s been in the cue for a couple of days now. I couldn’t find the words. Or, I knew what I wanted to say, but just couldn’t put it to paper. I started thinking about where it comes from. Then I thought about this.
How do I get from MMA or Pride Fighting to racing bikes? Easy, every time you toe the line you had better be ready for war. All out war. No prisoners, no triage, no bitching, no whining. Either win or go home in a body bag.
That’s what I like about Fedor; no show boating, no nothing. Just stone cold killer. Get in and get it done. He talks just a little about not wanting to go back to the farm (min 4 in the vid). That’s as real as it gets. Then 5:26 to 5:33 in the vid raises the hair on my arms. That’s fast and that’s coming at you like a god damned freight train.
There has to be a switch.
There has to be something that switches on in your head when you pin a number on and you toe the line.
That switch has to be flipped.
That is motivation.by