Host 1
Welcome to the Two on One podcast. I’m František, and sitting next to me is Honza.
Host 2
In today’s episode, we’re diving into what life looks like for a professional motorcycle racer and how you handle the intense pressure and obstacles in elite motorsport.
Host 1
Today we’re thrilled to welcome Oliver Koenig—a professional motorcycle racer who competes in world-championship categories. Today’s episode is all about how to break into the world of motorsport. Oliver, welcome!
Oliver
Thanks so much for having me, guys. Though to kick things off: I’m not sure I’ve fully "broken into" the sport yet, but I’ve definitely crashed into enough barriers along the way!
Host 1
We’ve got a great set of questions lined up for you today. Let’s jump straight into it.
Host 2
Let’s do it.
Host 1
Oli—I always call you Oli, so I'll stick with that—how did you get into motorcycles in the first place, and when was that defining moment you realized racing would become your actual career?
Oliver
It was a really natural progression. I’ve gravitated toward two wheels for as long as I can remember. There are photos of me as a toddler riding a bike with training wheels, already trying to pop wheelies. I lived on my bicycle until I was around two or three. My dad always loved motorbikes, but he never had the chance to race them himself. He competed in bike trials, but his parents never let him near motorbikes. Still, he was obsessed with them. Growing up, we watched races on TV together every single Sunday. When I was just over three years old, I went up to him and said: "Dad, I want to ride a motorbike." I don't remember saying it, but that's the family story. What I do remember like it was yesterday was being at my grandma’s cottage during summer break at three and a half. My dad suddenly pulls up in the driveway, and I go: "Dad, what are you doing here?" And he says: "We’re going to pick up your motorbike." I remember that drive vividly, and I remember that first bike. His original intention was just to teach me how to ride properly so that when I turned fifteen and hung out with friends on scooters, I wouldn't do something reckless and get hurt. It was purely about basic riding skills. How it snowballed into professional racing was just one step at a time, along with a fair bit of luck being in the right place at the right time.
Host 1
Completely organic growth.
Oliver
Exactly. My dad never drilled me or forced me to practice. If anything, it was the other way around—I was the one dragging him out to the track. Now that I coach young kids, I see so many parents who have way more drive and ambition than their children. Fortunately, that was never my case. I can honestly say I was always the primary driving force behind my own training.
Host 1
So your dad never pushed you against your will?
Oliver
Never. If anything, he had to be the one to calm me down—and he still plays that role today.
Host 1
You see that in almost every sport: overambitious parents pushing too hard, which often ends up burning kids out rather than helping them.
Oliver
100%. Excessive drilling is the quickest way to make a kid hate a sport. When I was little, I did competitive gymnastics for about six years. Gymnastics is pure, relentless drilling, and it ended up burning me out. Looking back, though, it did instill a strong work ethic—it taught me that nothing comes for free. Compared to many of my peers in paddock racing, I'm definitely one of the guys who trains with meticulous discipline.
Host 1
It’s great that you found your own passion instead of living out a parent’s unfulfilled dream.
Oliver
Definitely not living someone else's dream, no.
Host 1
That's awesome. Speaking of the dangers of the sport: you had a scary crash recently. Walk us through what happened.
Oliver
Man, I’ve had my share of crashes.
Host 1
The high-speed one—what happened?
Oliver
I have this bizarre luck where on every track, there are specific high-speed sections or nasty corners where you pray you never go down. I’ve managed to crash in those exact sections on three different circuits, and twice it happened at speeds over 300 km/h (185 mph). The most recent one happened because my front brakes completely failed going into a corner. I had a split second to make a decision: I had to bail and jump off the bike. Honestly, that was the first time in my life I genuinely thought I was either going to die or end up paralyzed. The second I jumped off, I knew I was in deep trouble. I was tumbling violently across the asphalt, totally disoriented, knowing there was a perimeter wall at the end of the run-off area. When you do a track walk, you never imagine hitting those barriers at terminal velocity. I was flying through the gravel, just waiting for the impact, trying to orient myself feet-first so I wouldn't snap my neck. Miraculously, I came to a halt about five meters short of the tire wall. Physically, I didn't break a single bone, but mentally, it was traumatizing. Ironically, I’ve had minor low-speed crashes that left me completely broken and required surgery, but that 300 km/h bail was purely brutal on the psyche.
Host 1
You mentioned doing track walks. What does preparation look like heading into a World Championship race weekend?
Oliver
We usually arrive at the circuit on Wednesday, even though racing takes place Saturday and Sunday. Thursday is dedicated to administrative checks and safety scrutineering—officials inspect all your leathers and helmets because in the past people tried racing in substandard gear. Then we do the track walk. Modern Superbikes carry between 200 and 1,000 telemetry sensors, recording every single parameter: engine RPM, gear selection, throttle opening, brake pressure in bars. I sit down with my data engineers to analyze everything, and then we walk the track on foot to calibrate our markers and check for any resurfacing or curb changes. Friday kicks off with free practice and qualifying, followed by the race heats across Saturday and Sunday.
Host 1
That sounds just like the telemetry prep in Formula racing.
Oliver
It really is. The weekend structure is pretty consistent; only the circuits change. You live a traveling circus lifestyle from Friday to Sunday. It might sound repetitive doing laps on a track, but the variables are so diverse that I fell in love with the process.
Host 1
Let’s touch on social media. You have a solid online presence with over 13,000 followers. What is your relationship with social media? Do you engage with fans directly?
Oliver
To be completely blunt: I hate social media. I really do. I wish I could have raced back in the nineties when none of this existed. Modern motorsport sometimes feels like it turns riders into trained circus animals with endless PR obligations and media side-shows. It doesn't come naturally to me, though I understand why some riders enjoy it. I recognize that it’s an essential part of the business today, so I try to maintain it, even if it feels counter to my personality. When fans reach out asking for signed knee sliders or hero cards, I always try to accommodate them. And during race weekends—especially our home round in the Czech Republic where the pressure is immense—I make sure to stay approachable and kind to fans, even when I’m having a rough day. But I don't do private meetups outside the track.
Host 1
So you don't run an official fan club?
Oliver
No official fan club. At the Czech round, we have a dedicated grandstand section with merchandise, but I don't run a formal club. My profile isn't quite at that scale yet anyway.
Host 1
Top-tier motorsport often seems like it breeds a bit of vanity and narcissism, with drivers loving the spotlight. You seem to be the complete opposite.
Oliver
Everyone’s built differently. Some riders thrive on the limelight and love feeding their ego, which is fine for them. But at the track, I need complete quiet. I need my personal bubble so I can treat the weekend purely as a professional job. At the same time, building a clean public image is vital for corporate sponsors—motorsport is wildly expensive, and no partner wants to back an arrogant jerk. So I balance it, but by nature, I prefer staying on the sidelines rather than being the center of attention.
Host 1
You're currently balancing elite racing with your degree at Newton University. How do you manage both?
Oliver
If I didn't have university, I could technically focus purely on training and racing. But honestly, I'm such a workaholic that I’d probably overtrain myself into severe injuries. Two months ago, I was running on absolute fumes. On the final day of a testing block before heading home, I remember waking up thinking: "My body is going to force a shutdown." For me, a "shutdown" usually means getting hurt. I finished the test cleanly, got home, and my finger started throbbing. I woke up the next morning with a massive infection from a tiny puncture wound—my immune system just crashed. University actually saves me from myself. Sitting in a lecture hall forces me to hit the brakes, step out of the racing mindset, and rest my body.
Host 1
How do you cope with bad weekends and race-day setbacks? Do you work with sports psychologists, or do you have specific mental routines?
Oliver
I’ve worked with top sports psychologists, including mental coach Marián Jelínek, which helped immensely. But the only true cure for an athlete's mind is a great result. Every athlete knows that when you're in a slump, you can do all the mental work you want, but nothing restores your confidence like standing on the podium. I went through a very difficult two-and-a-half-year stretch, but I made radical structural changes ahead of this season, and the momentum is finally shifting back in the right direction.
Host 1
Are you superstitious? Do you have pre-race rituals or lucky charms?
Oliver
I’m extremely superstitious—both on the bike and during university exams! I have specific routines, lucky socks, and charms. It can almost become a mental trap if you let it get out of hand!
Host 2
I think almost every competitive athlete has a pre-game ritual when the stakes are high.
Host 1
How does it feel walking into the university campus and seeing promotional posters of yourself on the walls?
Oliver
It’s funny—we shot those promo photos nearly two years ago. At first, I didn't notice them anywhere and thought it was no big deal. Then suddenly the campaign launched, and friends were sending me photos of posters in the Prague metro! We look sharp in the photos, so I don't mind too much, though whenever František points it out in front of a lecture hall, I just want to hide under the desk!
Host 2
Where do you see your career in five years, and are you already planning for life after racing?
Oliver
Racing will always be part of my DNA. Last year, I started coaching young kids, which I love. Eventually, I’d like to expand into coaching adults, but while I'm still competing professionally, riding at a slower pace with track-day clients can interfere with my race pace. In terms of active racing, I have a clear two-to-three-year plan: I want to return to the World Championship. Not necessarily in the premier WorldSBK class—because competing there without a full factory-backed bike is practically impossible—but in the WorldSSP (Supersport 600) class, where a privateer setup can genuinely contend for podiums.
Host 2
Can an athlete earn enough at the top level of motorcycle racing to be set for life?
Oliver
At the pinnacle, absolutely. Top MotoGP riders make upwards of 1.5 billion CZK (tens of millions of euros) a year. In World Superbikes, top factory riders earn around 1.5 million euros annually. Those are incredible numbers that I’m not touching yet. But motorsport has also become heavily politicized. Two years ago, I had a contract on the table to race in the World Supersport 600 class. Everything was finalized and ready to sign. Then the team called to apologize: championship organizers had mandated that their grid spots were contingent on signing two Asian riders to boost commercial market expansion in Southeast Asia. That side of motorsport can be harsh—talent and results aren't always the only deciding factors.
Host 1
What about your personal life outside of the paddock and university?
Oliver
I’m in a great place. I met my girlfriend here at Newton, and we’ve been together for nearly two years. Sometimes I wish I could experience a relaxed student life where your only concern is going to class and grabbing beers with mates. But overall, I’m grateful for how things are.
Host 2
How does she handle your intense schedule and the mental highs and lows of racing?
Oliver
It definitely isn't easy being with me. I can be deeply single-minded and selfish when it comes to my athletic routine. Before she came into my life, everything revolved around my training. Being with her taught me to compromise and stop thinking solely about myself. I recently brought her to a race weekend for the first time in two years. In paddock culture, teams often discourage bringing partners or family because they can be a major distraction. But she fit into the team environment seamlessly, and it worked out great.
Host 1
Perseverance and discipline are the ultimate keys to your success.
Oliver
Definitely. I’m relentless when I set my sights on a goal. Viky helps keep my daily discipline on point, which I’m super grateful for. When I commit to something, I give it 100%.
Host 1
What parting motto would you leave with our listeners?
Oliver
Stay true to yourself and chase your own goals, not someone else’s expectations. Life is too short to coast or waste time. Whatever you choose to do—even if it’s just washing your car—put 100% effort into it. If you aren't willing to give something everything you've got, it’s not worth doing.
Host 1
Oli, thank you so much for joining us.
Host 2
Big thanks to Newton University and Newton TV for hosting this episode. Make sure to follow and subscribe across all platforms, and we’ll see you next time on Two on One!
