Olympian James Cracknell’s winning formulas for business success

British elite athlete James Cracknell OBE is a household name, recognised for being a double Olympic gold medal-winning rowing world champion and for his numerous endurance feats for charity; one of which, in 2010, saw him suffer a serious brain injury (leaving him with epilepsy and a changed personality) following a horrific road accident – hit by a petrol tanker while attempting to cycle, row, run and swim from Los Angeles to New York in just 18 days. 

More recently, James, 51, completed the London Marathon in under four hours, raising money for the brain injury charity Headway Essex.  

Last year he co-founded Muto, an elite performance business, with entrepreneur James Tansey. It’s a programme based on the belief that “the elite athlete mindset isn’t just for elite athletes” and helps senior people in business learn how to work together better and win together more. The difference here is that the knowledge comes from “elite athletes and the experts who support them, who every day push not only their own boundaries but the boundaries of their sports”. 

The programme offers full immersion into the Olympian mindset and not only helps business talent become their best, but also supports Olympic athletes and helps them earn from the skills that led them to their podiums and so focus on their training (without worrying about money). 

Here he reflects on lessons from Olympians and reveals the top tips he’s learned for going the distance and achieving success in business and in sport. 

Take personal responsibility – but also help one another. In elite sport, you’re all competing simultaneously at a really high level – you have to be amazing to stand out and succeed. It’s vital you take absolute responsibility for your role and perform to the best of your abilities before looking at anyone else. But it’s also in everyone’s interest that the whole group does better, rather than thinking if you help others, it may leave you in a weaker position. If you’re thinking like that, you’re not part of the team, and the team’s not going to do well. 

Know your objectives, aims and shared goals. Agree on them as a group and never get to the point where you wish you’d said or done something previously. Be open and honest, and don’t be offended if you get challenged. No matter how good the individual, you’ve got to have a strong team around you who will challenge you too. 

Have a stretch goal. You should never settle and think ‘brilliant, I’ve hit my target’ just because you’ve won something. It doesn’t mean you’ve arrived. We treated every race we won as if we’d lost because you haven’t got another target to aim at otherwise; you haven’t moved on. Whether it’s a training session or a meeting, ask yourself whether you’re doing the best you possibly can. 

Don’t be told what your limitations are. It’s what made me successful in sport. After the accident [he was left in a coma for 11 days and only survived as he was wearing a cycle helmet], everyone told me 80% of people with a brain injury can’t do certain things. All my behaviours were judged through the prism of my brain injury rather than the fact I’ve always been single-minded and bloody annoying. 

But I had to adapt. It was really hard, but I opted not to hide away. I decided I needed some academic credibility, so I applied to Cambridge, as I thought if I could achieve academically, it would stop people from asking if I was okay. And by doing the Boat Race 15 years after stopping rowing, I was showing people that physically and mentally, I’ll do what I want and be at a level where I want to be. If I’d listened to people, I’d never even have applied to Cambridge, let alone got in. I handed in my thesis on the ninth anniversary of the accident. The lesson is, don’t limit what people can do. 

Record your progress. It gives you real perspective and focus. After the accident, a doctor friend told me that yes, it was going to take a long time to recover, but he said, ‘Keep a diary, start moving physically, and record what you’re doing.’ He phoned me a month later to see how it was going, and I was like, ‘meh’. But he said, ‘you kept that diary, yes? Look back to what you were doing a month ago’, and it was a four-minute walk. 

Then he asked, ‘what are you doing now?’ And it was an hour’s run. Then I could see I was getting better, that I was improving. Your perception of progress is often very different from what it is. Focus and perspective are so important. 

Talk to people – and really listen. I used to think asking for help or saying that you’re struggling was a real sign of weakness. In sport, you don’t want to show any weakness to your teammates or the opposition. But therapy really helped me out of a dark place. 

In Cambridge, I was really miserable; my then-wife Bev and I were splitting up, I broke a rib, so I wasn’t rowing and was training on my own on a bike. It was dark. Then a mate suggested I talk to a psychiatrist – which proved vital. In business, don’t just ask how people are; really listen. Share how you really are. 

I did some mentoring during lockdown, and my mentees really valued it. A lot of what they found helpful was being able to vent and get stuff off their chest. Up until that point, they felt they hadn’t been listened to, or they’d had to say something numerous times before anything happened. I’m an elite athlete rather than a therapist, but I think it’s really important within a team to let off steam, so your teammates aren’t worrying about you. 

There’s not often a release valve in teams, and there should be. It’s so important to have an outlet where you can talk about how you’re feeling and share the load. You have to be honest with your teammates, or you’re not going to reach your goals. 

Have empathy and trust. I rowed the Atlantic with TV presenter Ben Fogle in the 2005-2006 Atlantic Rowing Race. Ben and I are very different, and we didn’t really know each other well enough to motivate one other. But then we had a very nasty capsize 700 miles from the finish. We could have pressed the emergency rescue button, but we didn’t. Our goals instantly married up; getting the boat righted, getting back in the race as quickly as possible – and having each other’s backs 24 hours a day. 

Then we were much faster. Suddenly, we were motivating each other because we had empathy with one other, and our goals became exactly the same. We got there in first place. When you decide about your goal together, then you trust each other, and that’s what makes teams successful. 

Celebrate success. At the 2000 Olympics, we’d already been World Champions in 1997, 98, and 99 when we won gold in the Coxless Four – so at no point did we celebrate. Steve (Redgrave) and Matt (Pinsent) had done it all before, but Tim (Foster) and I hadn’t, so I didn’t just want to pat myself on the back. I wanted to let my hair down and celebrate. But the team was just looking toward the next Olympics. 

I was told anyone can win gold once, but real champions do it again. But I still think you need to reward yourself when you succeed and that teams should celebrate any success – gold medal or not.  

Ali Catterall is an award-winning writer, journalist and filmmaker whose writing has featured in the Guardian, Time Out, GQ, Film4, Word magazine and the Big Issue, among many others. Ali is also the writer and director of the 2023 film Scala!!!.