Life at 360kmph must be demanding. How do riders process the requirements of Grand Prix racing? We asked Brad Binder what happens when the visor clicks down.
By Adam Wheeler.
Flexibility, conditioning, concentration…and balls; just some of the traits needed by MotoGP riders for a 44-race, 22-Grand Prix, 10-month season of action and speeds reaching nearly 370kmph. These athletes will crash on average 15 times a campaign (based on 2025 official figures) and will steer fine-tuned prototype machinery around a range of different circuits and weather conditions.
Brad Binder has been throttling the KTM RC16 since 2020; the South African won KTM’s first ever premier class Grand Prix that same year in Czechia. The 30-year-old is also a winner of Moto3 and Moto2 Grands Prix and has built seven seasons of mileage in the premier class with podiums in both GPs and Sprints.
But what about the experience of being on the bike itself: what does he think about? How does he control his emotions? Does he go into autopilot?
Behind Brad is a dedicated and close-knit team, as well as another layer of technical staff both at the circuits and back at Motorsport HQ in Austria, but when the grid rolls away for the Sighting Lap of each Grand Prix then #33 is very much on his own. What happens next?
Is it possible to be ‘ice cold’ during a race? Or do emotions – elation, frustration, anger – still play a part?
To be honest, when you start a race – for me at least – the first 2-3 laps are blank. Even when I think back, I can’t really remember them. I think I’ve almost ‘turned off’ and I’m just going. Then things settle down and you start to come back around a little bit. When the lights go off on the grid then you just rely on instinct.
But don’t you have to be more calculating and methodical because of the traffic at the start?
I think you look for opportunities more than anything…and go where people don’t! That’s always been my approach to the first few laps and then when things have settled and the rhythm comes you see where you are, see whether you have the pace - or you don’t - and from there you can calculate what you need to do. Don’t get me wrong; when you blow a corner and you lose three-four positions there’s nothing nice to say to yourself! It doesn’t matter whether you’re on a kart track or a MotoGP track the goal is always the same: to be as fast as you can, and the closer you are to the front then the happier you are.
Are you hard on yourself for any mistakes?
It doesn’t help to either curse yourself or be super-happy about how things are going. You just have to give your best, and that has always been my goal from lap one until the end. If I can finish a 21-lap race clean without any big mistakes and as consistent as I can [then] I know the outcome will be pretty good.
Is there much ‘arithmetic’ to a race? Stitching sectors together and counting through it all?
Well, for example, one thing that riles me is the sectors: you might do one in 10.2, 10.2, 10.3, 10.2 each lap and then suddenly a 10.9 for just a small error, and to make up the gap you’ve just given away is not easy. Those previous gains you’ve made have been thrown in the bin.
Is it possible to be 100% focused all the way or are there moments when your attention drifts…?
You have to be a little bit aware or ‘awake’ because when you have tire-drop or you need a few more meters to stop the bike and things are changing over the course of a race distance, then you need to be prepared…and you need to be thinking the whole time. You need to dig into every detail. Things like correcting yourself after a mistake to make sure it doesn’t happen again, or if you lose the front [tire] in a section because it has a lot of wear then don’t do it again otherwise it will be too late. You are so focused on what is going on and the feedback you are getting. One thing you learn is how to react to those feelings.
Is it still possible to get excited or do you go into Pro mode?
Yeah! It’s like when you’re a kid: I love racing my motorbike. One thing I like a whole lot less is being slow, it really sucks. I hate it. There is nothing worse than coming in and seeing your name near the bottom of the list. It’s something you never get used to. On the other hand, when you push and you get something in return then that always feels good. There is nothing worse than pushing more and more – as much as you will go – and having the same outcome. I love looking deep into things and finding those last couple of tenths.
It must be hard to change your intrinsic way to race a motorcycle but then also you must be adapting your technique the whole time…
Yeah…because the only thing that matters is the time on the clock. As long as you’re going fast then it doesn’t matter what you do. It’s easy with the amount of technology, data, and video analysis these days to see where we are losing time on the entry points and what you need to do to fix it but everyone is different and everyone has their own style and some work better in some places and some work better in others. The ultimate rider doesn’t really exist. It is all about using your strengths and trying to limit your weaknesses.
What is it like for those first few minutes back in the box after a race (if you are not on the podium!)?
It’s pretty normal. I use the in-lap to really pinpoint what I need to say to the guys and what is important and what is not, and the information they need to make me faster. Nothing more. Time is very limited in the box, especially between stops during the weekend and after the race - of course – you give them the full monty for the debrief.
You’re slim and lithe but then these bikes need strength to be pushed to the limit for grip and aerodynamics…
You don’t need to be ridiculously strong at all. What you do need is really good endurance fitness because as soon as you start to get a little bit tired then that’s when you make mistakes. Mistakes punish you in this sport. The gap between 1st and 20th means you can be the fastest dude in the world, but if you are slow for a couple of laps then you won’t get across that line where you want to be. You have to manage yourself so that you don’t blow yourself up, but then we ride a lot, so we learn good technique and use our legs and whatever else when we feel any fatigue. A track like COTA [Circuit of The Americas] can be demanding for all the changes of direction, so you know you might bleed in those sections but then on the back straight you can recoup. Afterwards, it’s just fatigue…and you have the feeling you have worked hard. You don’t notice it so much on the bike, but when you stop it really whacks you.
What does it feel like the morning after a race?
The first thing is around your triceps: they’ll be sore. I never struggled with my back, lower or upper, and the only pain I’ve had in that area might be the ‘lats’ and the forearms. Those are the main areas where I feel my body has been pulling amps. You can work in the gym until you are blue in the face to try and prepare for that but, somehow, it is not the same. The only way to train the forearms is to ride, and for me the best way is always motocross.