There has been a lot of noise on social media about England’s performance at the weekend, and some of the lessons relating to leadership and high performance sport.

For me, one of the most powerful takeaways was the responsibility for failure.

Harry Kane was under immense pressure taking that second penalty. He had the weight of a nation’s hopes on his shoulders. The world was watching. And he fluffed it. 

I saw a beautiful quote the other day from a parent of an athlete who had just won an Olympic medal

🥇 The interviewer asked: “How proud are you of their achievement?”

🗣 And the parent responded: “We’re proud of the person she has become through this journey”

Yesterday I was doing some self-reflective development work, focused on identifying and managing traits that don’t serve me well (I know, a bit masochistic for a Monday afternoon…)

The structure of the exercise went something like this…

You’d be hard-pressed to find many people who haven’t been inspired by the incredible performance of 18 year-old Emma Raducanu at the US Open. But, alongside her sensational talent and a bright future in the sport, her achievements have sparked some interesting conversations this week about high performance and wellbeing. 

The COVID-19 pandemic has had an unprecedented impact on the world of elite sport, but it has been particularly challenging for athletes who compete in Olympic and Paralympic sports. Whilst events such as Wimbledon, the Tour de France and Champions League give competitors the opportunity to battle for victory every year, the Olympic and Paralympic Games sit in a quadrennial cycle. There are of course, other opportunities to participate at an international level—World, European and Commonwealth meets, but the Olympics is seen as the pinnacle for most qualifying sports. In essence, many of the athletes preparing for Tokyo 2020 had been training for four years to compete this summer.

We’re taught that striving for excellence and growth is admirable, yet we must also learn to be content with the present moment. That we need to aspire towards an improved future version of ourselves, whilst recognising the importance of being compassionate towards our present-day self. Do we have to choose, or is it possible to find a balance of both?

“New Year, New Me”. If I had a pound for every time I’d seen that phrase on social media, I’d have a very full piggy bank! It’s January, the start of a new year, and a time when most are setting New Year’s Resolutions, determined that this year will be the year that they lose that weight, run that marathon, apply for that dream job, or emigrate to New Zealand. Yet, come late-Jan, the new year’s enthusiasm is often as weary as the weather, and many will have slipped back into old routines, deciding that, on second thoughts, maybe next year will be their year of transformation.

Motivation. We all need it, but some people seem to have it in shedloads, whilst others are found wanting. We all know people who seem consumed by a fierce passion to succeed, remaining stoically determined throughout the ebbs and flows of life’s challenges. Others end up off course after just the slightest change in wind speed or direction, disillusioned and demotivated, unable to get back on track. So, what separates these two sets of people? Why does the fire burn so strongly in some of us, that even the darkest days are somehow productive, whilst others lack the spark to do anything other than perform the most essential daily tasks? Is motivation something we are born with; part of our genetic make-up, as inherent as freckles or big ears? Or is it a product of our environment, influenced by the role we’re trying to adopt and the task we’re trying to achieve?

When an athlete stops training full-time, their relationship with food is likely to change significantly. Depending on how much exercise they still fit in to their daily routine, they may even need to start eating like a normal person! Instead of food being crucial ‘fuel’—energising performance and aiding recovery—it will now take a more unassuming role. Yes, fuelling is important for everyone, but daily choices won’t have quite such a significant impact on their livelihood as it did when they were competing. But just how complex is an athlete’s relationship with food, and how does it change once they leave sport behind?

When I was considering retirement from elite sport, one of the things I looked forward to the most was not having to push my body continually, given that over the last decade I’d done more exercise than most people do in a lifetime! But, free from the constraints of official training, it can actually be really challenging to forge a new, healthy relationship with exercise and activity.