Nobody hires a person who is willing to get hurt. They hire a person who can look hurt and walk away.

That is the whole trade. A stunt is a designed event: a coordinator, a rigger, a medic, a rehearsal that looks boring on purpose. The civilian myth is a dirt bike and a dare. The professional fact is a body that can hit a mark, reset, and still be available on Friday.

If you want this work, start where the alphabet is:

• Ukemi in a dojo — receiving a fall so your neck is not the landing gear.

• A parkour gym or gymnastics hall with a coach, not a parking garage.

• Strength you can repeat when you are tired.

Watch The Fall Guy as a workplace picture, not as permission. Troy Brown’s 150-foot airbag fall is a department, not a height you are allowed to want yet. Watch Hardcore Henry as a lesson in staffing: on the order of a dozen operators wore the camera so one neck did not have to.

Three to five years is a normal beginning. If that feels too slow, you are in the right craft and the wrong hurry.

Train with a coach. Do not invent the gag.