Fast But Flawed
- Gary Linge
- 1 day ago
- 4 min read
Updated: 14 hours ago
Why Riders With Bad Technique Can Still Be Fast
And Why Real Technique Always Wins... in the End

One of the most frustrating things for serious motocross riders is this:
“I’ve been working on my technique—and some guy with terrible form just beat me.”
It can make you question everything:
Does technique even matter?
Is smooth really fast?
What’s the point of putting in all this work?
Am I doing the right thing?
Here’s the truth no one is telling you:
Speed doesn’t always equal skill.
Let’s break it down.
Speed reflects adaptation—not true ability.
Some riders go fast because they’ve adapted to their own flaws.
Their body has built timing, confidence, and rhythm around poor habits.
Even if the technique is wrong, the nervous system has made it automatic.
That doesn’t mean they’re skilled—it means they’ve maxed out a broken system.
They ride at 100%, right on the edge, because that’s the only way their style works.
And sure, it looks fast.
But it’s fragile and to go any faster they push beyond their capabilities, often resulting in injury.
Great technique gives you a buffer.
Elite riders—like Jett Lawrence—can ride at 80% effort and still win.
Why? Because their technique is so dialled in, so efficient, and so automatic, that they don’t need to push to the limit every lap.
That’s the power of proper technique—it gives you speed without stress.
When your movement is clean:
You stay in control
You burn less energy
You recover quicker
You can push harder, later
You make fewer mistakes under pressure
This is the difference between temporary speed and sustainable performance.
Most trainers teach “false fast.”
One of the biggest issues in motocross today is what we call false fast—
Training speed without truly teaching the movements behind it.
A lot of trainers:
Run drills but don’t fix core body positioning and control work
Time laps but don’t break down movement patterns
Encourage aggression over precision
Claim to teach technique—but really just reward whoever goes fastest
False fast creates riders who look good at the track… until they race a real pro, or hit a rough technical section, race Supercross, or deal with pressure.
True speed is built on structure—not shortcuts.
Technique is not the same as style.
This one is misunderstood by nearly everyone.
Technique = doing the right things at the right time
Style = the unique way your body expresses those movements
You can have two riders with totally different styles—one central and smooth, the other loose and mobile—but both using great technique underneath.
Don’t confuse movement with mastery.
The loudest rider isn’t always the best—just like the smoothest isn’t always the weakest.
Style is personal. Technique is universal.
Habit is 20 times faster than thought.
Here’s the real science behind this.
Anything you do automatically—good or bad—is 20 times faster than something you have to think through.
That means a rider with poor form, but deeply ingrained habits, will often be faster in the moment than a rider still learning new patterns. This is where it can be frustrating to older riders who end up in a phase of going slower whilst they learn new ways of riding and movement patterns. This was something I personally had to go through at an older age but it was well worth it!
But that flips once the new rider locks it into their nervous system.
When good technique becomes unconscious, it’s:
Faster
Safer
More consistent
And gives you far more control and potential
You’re not slow—you’re just in the install phase.
Once it’s in your system, the game changes.
Bad technique breaks under pressure.
Here’s where sketchy riding gets exposed—when the track gets:
Rough
Rutted or slick
Square-edged
Or when you add in Supercross, tight timing, and decision-making at speed
This is when the “false fast” riders:
Crash
Fade
Miss lines
Can’t adapt
And can’t fix what’s wrong—because they don’t know what’s wrong
Clean technique holds up under pressure. That’s what separates hobby speed from pro race craft.
It’s not drag racing—it’s Formula One.
A better way to explain this:
A drag car is fast in a straight line.
A Formula One car is fast everywhere—in corners, under braking, on every surface.
Poor technique can give you straight-line speed.
But motocross isn’t a straight line—it’s a technical, reactive, unpredictable sport.
The rider with clean technique is the Formula One machine:
Built for control, adaptability, and high-speed decisions.
Bad technique can win at amateur level—but it doesn’t work in the pros.
This is where most people get confused.
Yes—a rider with poor technique can win youth and amateur championships.
Why?
The pace is lower
The competition isn’t as tight
The tracks are simpler
The level of repercussions for bad habits is lower
The racing favours bravery and aggression over precision
So parents and riders see someone winning and think,
“If he’s winning, technique must not matter.”
Or
“We need to do what they’re doing”
But then those same riders go pro… and hit a wall.
They can’t figure out why they’re crashing, struggling to adapt, or fading against stronger riders.
Because they never developed the fundamentals to support pro-level racing.
Amateur success built on bad habits does not equal pro success.
If anything, it creates a glass ceiling—and they won’t know how to break it.
Good technique is an investment in your future.
If you’re working on clean movement, efficient riding, and smart training—it might feel slow now.
But you’re building a system that can:
Handle Supercross and precision
Survive gnarly tracks
Minimise injury
Maximise your energy
Perform when the pressure is high
Scale into a full career—not just a good season
You’re not behind—you’re ahead.
They’re giving it everything just to stay where they are.
You’re cruising at 80% and building something they won’t be able to match.
Final Word:
Motocross can trick you.
The guy going all out with wild technique might win this weekend.
But you’re building a rider who wins long term—who lasts, adapts, and keeps climbing.
So if someone says,
“He’s faster and doesn’t train technique,”
Just smile and think:
He’s already at his limit.
I haven’t even hit mine yet.
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