Meet our expert: Monique Kavelaars, Director, Assessments & Team Coaching

Monique Kavelaars brings more than 15 years of experience helping high-performing teams thrive — first in elite sport and now in corporate environments. An Olympian and Canadian National Team épée fencer, she competed at the Olympic Games, World Championships, and Pan Am Games. As Third Factor’s Director of Assessments and Team Coaching, Monique designs and facilitates leadership programs and workshops for global organizations, bringing an energizing, practical approach that helps teams build trust, communicate, and align around shared goals.

“I know there’s a lot going on in people’s lives that I don’t see: personal challenges, cultural background, identity. How do I make space for that without making it awkward or overstepping?”

When I first moved to Sweden after four years in Paris, I went from feeling fluent and capable to being a complete beginner again. There I was, sitting in a classroom for foreigners learning Swedish, fumbling through sentences a five-year-old could manage. The room was full of strangers. We had nothing in common. A dentist. Engineers. People who’d come for love, for work or for school. A few had no choice but to leave home. But inside that room, we were all beginners. That shared confusion did something: we became friends. A man from Ghana and I bonded over feeling completely lost. And because of that shared experience, it got easier for us to speak Swedish badly out loud. We took more risks with the language because neither of us feared looking foolish in front of the other. When I first walked into that classroom, I didn’t know anyone’s story. What I saw was a room of adults mangling their introductions. What was actually there were decades of careers, entire identities – all set aside to start over for reasons I’d never have guessed sitting next to them. That’s the part of coaching nobody tells you about. At work, what you see in others is only a small slice of their day. What’s actually shaping it is usually invisible. So how do you make space for all of that without making it awkward or overstepping? The answer isn’t to automatically know everyone’s full story. It’s to coach as if there’s always more beneath the surface that you can’t see. Here’s how to get started:

01. Get Curious About the Iceberg

You only ever see the tip. Don’t fill in the rest with guesses. I saw this most clearly when I was fencing at the World Cup. I was competing alongside a teammate from Algeria. It was Ramadan. She was fasting. That meant she had to be up before dawn to eat enough to carry her through the day – which could stretch to 12 hours if her results were good enough to keep her in the competition longer. To most of the room, she just looked a little quieter than usual and slower to warm up. A few competitors assumed she was having an off day. Our coach knew better, and so did the rest of us on her team. So we adjusted around her without making it a production: quieter check-ins, no unnecessary chatter before her matches, and extra time built into her breaks. Nobody outside our circle saw any of that. They just saw the tip of it, a fencer who seemed a little off. The rest – the fasting, the fatigue, the discipline it took to compete at that level while managing both – was entirely beneath the surface. This shows up in offices, too. If someone’s gone quieter lately, replies slower, seems distracted, don’t start with what you think is going on. (“You’re upset you didn’t get to lead the project.”) Ask something genuinely open instead: “I’ve noticed you’re a bit quieter lately. How are things landing for you this week?” You won’t get the full picture on the first question. But if you stay curious, you’ll be able to keep the conversation going until you actually start to understand what’s happening.

02. Build Real Psychological Safety

Safety isn’t niceness. It isn’t a shield from accountability. It’s a pattern people can predict. The Swedish classroom built safety in the way that any team environment can. People admitted what they didn’t know without it costing them. (None of us knew the language, after all.) That’s what Harvard leadership professor Amy Edmondson calls psychological safety. It’s the belief that speaking up won’t get you punished or humiliated. Safety isn’t announced; it’s demonstrated. Naming your own mistake plainly (“I misjudged the timeline on the client deliverable last week. I should have flagged it two days earlier.”) teaches people more than any values deck. They calibrate their own willingness to take risks based on what leaders do, not what’s written on a wall.

03. Balance Support and Accountability

Curiosity isn’t softness. It’s finding out what someone needs and still holding the line. Safety and standards aren’t a trade-off. They work as a pair. Without both, you get either comfort or anxiety, not real performance. When someone’s struggling to hit a deadline, keep the standard and the support as two separate moves. First, state the standard plainly: “This needs to ship Friday.” Then ask a separate question: “What would help you get there? More time, fewer meetings or something else?” Keeping those distinct means the bar doesn’t move; the support around it does. That’s what stops flexibility from quietly becoming a lowered standard. Nobody lowered the bar for my teammate at that World Cup. The standard never changed. What changed was the support around her, which allowed her to meet the standard. The iceberg doesn’t disappear because you ignore it either. It just keeps shaping what you see without you knowing why. Stay curious. Build safety as a pattern, not a policy. Coaching across differences isn’t about lowering standards. It’s about coaching the person who’s on your team.

Key Takeaways:

  • What you see is the tip of the iceberg. Ask open questions that leave room for an answer you didn’t expect, instead of filling gaps with assumptions.

  • Safety is shown, not announced. Naming your own mistakes plainly teaches people more than any policy on the wall.

  • Keep the standard and the support separate. Set the bar clearly, then ask what would help your team member meet it. The bar doesn’t move. The support does.

Meet our expert: Peggy Baumgartner, Chief Learning Officer

Peggy Baumgartner is an expert in developing top performers across business and sport. A master-level certified TAIS coach and Third Factor’s Chief Learning Officer, Peggy has spent 25+ years helping leaders and athletes build self-awareness and perform at their best — including four Olympic cycles with the Canadian Women’s Hockey Team. She teaches in executive programs at Queen’s Smith School of Business and UNC Kenan-Flagler, has published in Harvard Business Review, and leads the design of Third Factor’s flagship coaching programs.

“How Do I Keep My Team Focused and Engaged When Change Won’t Stop And We Are at Capacity?”

Some people think that when things get crazy busy, holding it together means looking invincible, projecting strength, and appearing like you can do it all. But that’s not authentic, and it doesn’t improve performance. If we want our people to be real and vulnerable in the face of uncertainty, we must model that behaviour. That means making it safe for people to share their real experiences. I once watched Third Factor founder Peter Jensen work with Canada’s Olympic synchronized swimming team. It was just prior to the Olympic Games, and this team had medal potential, so the media started to take notice. Suddenly, athletes who rarely saw cameras were surrounded by them. The coach used the opportunity to sit down with her athletes: “I don’t know about you, but with all this media presence, I’m feeling really nervous,” she told them. That one admission gave everyone else permission to say the same thing. And then she added: “This is going to feel like the Games. So what do we want to do with what we’re feeling?” During tough periods, we need to harness our emotions. That’s because people don’t change based on logic; they change based on emotion. As leaders, our job is to make it safe for real emotions to surface so we can work on them together and use the energy beneath our emotions to move forward. And to accomplish that, you need to focus on the relationships you have with your people.

Building, maintaining, and deepening relationships

The deeper your connection with your team, the greater your influence. That relationship is the pipeline through which all communication flows. If that pipeline is clogged or doesn’t exist, it means that when you need strong communication the most, it won’t happen. Which brings me to energy. We often frame the feeling of being overwhelmed as a time management problem. And so we ask ourselves: Where do I find additional time? But many leaders are already great at time management, and that question won’t get you far. The better question is: Where can I find the energy? Pay attention as you move through your day. When does time seem to fly? What fills you up? What are your strengths? You will have far more energy working on things you feel you do well, and it’s remarkable how much gets done when energy is high and how little when it’s depleted. And this isn’t just about you. A big part of your job right now is making sure your people have the energy to do what they need to do. They need to believe in themselves and believe they have the trust and relationship with the person who matters most to them: their leader. And finally, when things do get hard, here is the one habit worth picking up: Stop listening to yourself and start talking to yourself. During hard times, the inner critic gets loud. This is so hard. I’m not on top of things. I can’t do this. The best performers don’t silence that voice by ignoring it. They pause and ask: Is it true? Yes, work is often hard. But does hard mean you’re not good at it? No. It might mean a task is new or difficult. It might mean you’re doing something no one has figured out yet. Get clear on what’s actually true and lead from there.

Sustainable leadership for the long haul

Leading through relentless change is genuinely hard. And somewhere in the middle of keeping your team focused, your strategy on track, and your organization moving, it is easy to forget that you are also a person who needs to take care of themselves. The most effective leaders right now are not the ones who have it all figured out. They are the ones who stay honest with themselves, invest in the relationships that matter, manage their energy with the same intention they bring to their calendar, and extend to themselves the same patience and encouragement they would offer anyone on their team. Change will keep coming. The question is not whether you can outrun it. The question is whether you are leading in a way that is sustainable for you and the people counting on you. Be kind to yourself. That is not soft advice. It is how you stay in the game.  
This question and answer are adapted from a webinar hosted by Queen’s Executive Education featuring a panel led by Dr. Laurence Ashworth (Chair of Queen’s Executive Education), and panelists Peggy Baumgartner (Chief Learning Officer, Third Factor), Dr. Julian Barling (Smith School of Business Professor and Borden Chair of Leadership), and Dr. Lobna Chérif (Royal Military College’s Chair in Resilience). To watch the full Queen’s Executive Education Webinar, click this link.

Key Takeaways:

  • Vulnerability is a leadership tool, not a weakness. When leaders model honesty about what they’re experiencing, they give their teams permission to do the same.

  • Overwhelm is an energy problem, not a time management problem. Ask where you can find energy, not where you can find more hours.

  • Relationships are your pipeline. The deeper your connection with your people, the more effectively communication flows when it matters most.

  • Stop listening to yourself and start talking to yourself. When the inner critic gets loud, pause and ask: is it true? Get clear on what’s actually true, and lead from there.

  • Sustainable leadership requires caring for yourself, not just your team. The leaders who last are the ones who manage their own energy with the same intention they bring to everything else.

Meet our expert: Tracy Wilson, Olympic Figure Skater, Broadcaster & Third Factor Sport Advisor

Tracy Wilson how to support someone after failure?
Tracy Wilson is an Olympic bronze medallist and one of Canada’s most respected figure skating coaches and broadcasters. Alongside her late partner Rob McCall, she won seven consecutive national titles and made history as the first Canadian ice dancers to reach the Olympic podium. Following her competitive career, Tracy coached world-class athletes including Olympic champions Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández, and became a trusted voice for audiences on CBC, NBC, and TSN. As a member of the Third Factor Sport Advisory Board, she brings invaluable perspective on the mindset and methods that help athletes thrive under pressure.

“How do you support someone after failure, especially when the stakes are high and the moment has already passed?”

Knowing how to support someone after failure is one of the hardest things a coach, leader, or mentor has to do. There is no rewind button. The moment has passed, the result is set, and the person in front of you is somewhere between devastated and numb. What do you do?
At the recent Third Factor Client Appreciation Dinner in Toronto, Tracy Wilson was asked how she handles an athlete who has just fallen apart in a big moment. Her answer was honest, grounded in decades of experience in high-performance sport, and it applies just as much in the boardroom as it does on the ice.
Here are six principles drawn from that conversation.

01. There is no one right way to respond

The first thing Tracy will tell you is that there is no script for this. Knowing how to support someone after failure starts with understanding who is in front of you and where they are emotionally before doing or saying anything else.
She acknowledges the complexity directly: “It does depend on the athlete. And at my age, watching what I’ve watched, sometimes these big failures can turn you around and get you going in a better direction. You learn things about yourself. If you can hang in there, it can shoot you right up.”
But she is equally clear-eyed about how difficult it is to communicate that truth in the moment. The insight that failure can become fuel is real, it just can’t always be delivered right away. The job isn’t to rush in with a lesson. It’s to figure out what this person needs, right now.

02. Be present

In the immediate aftermath of a big failure, Tracy’s instinct is not to talk, it’s to listen. Or simply to be there.
“So then it’s really hearing them out. Asking questions, or actually being okay just to sit. And sometimes I have moments where you’re sitting with somebody and it is super uncomfortable, and you’re just focusing on your breath, because you just want to be there. You just want to be a calm presence.”
That phrase, “a calm presence” is worth pausing on. The temptation for coaches, leaders, and mentors is to fill silence with solutions. But in the immediate wake of failure, what most people need is not a fix. They need to feel that someone is with them in it.

03. Help them find what else is true

Once the initial storm has passed, people often start telling themselves a catastrophic story: it’s over, I blew it, I’ll never recover. Tracy’s most consistent move is to gently challenge that narrative. Failure has a way of narrowing our vision, and part of a coach’s or leader’s job is to widen it again.
She pointed to a specific example: someone close to her who failed a major school medical exam by a single point and was convinced his path to medicine was over. Tracy’s role was to help him find a more complete picture of reality.
“It was just trying to help somebody find the truth, because oftentimes it’s exaggerated. When they said to themselves, “This is the worst thing. I can never do this now. It’s over.” And all I am really helping them find is what else is true.”
That simple question, “what else is true?” doesn’t dismiss the failure or minimize the pain. It creates a little space around the story, space where possibility can re-enter. It helps them remember what else is true about themselves: “I am knowledgeable. I am tenacious. I really care about this. I work really hard.” It works just as well in a performance review debrief as it does rinkside.

04. Use hindsight and your own failures

One of Tracy’s most effective tools is perspective: using the person’s own past, and her own.
“The other thing I try to remind them of is hindsight. Have you seen this completely different in the past? And then I try to use examples of past failures I’ve had.”
There is something disarming about a coach or leader who has failed. It signals that failure is not disqualifying but part of the path. When Tracy draws on her own failings, she is not being humble. She is demonstrating that high performance and setback co-exist in every serious career – in sport and in business alike.

05. Help break the spin

After a setback, people tend to replay it over and over. That loop can be hard to break. For anyone caught in that circular thinking, Tracy often recommends something simple.
“Sometimes journalling helps, just to sort of write it down. For me, that would get the spinning out.”
The goal isn’t deep reflection or insight, it’s simply to externalize what’s churning internally so it stops consuming all available bandwidth. For leaders supporting a team member after a setback, even encouraging someone to write down what happened can be enough to shift them out of the spiral.

06. Hold the belief for them

Ultimately, Tracy’s message to anyone supporting someone after failure is one of belief in their resilience, even when they can’t access it themselves.
“You’re stronger than you know. Hang in there, and you’re gonna get to the good stuff.”
Alongside that: question the negativity. Ask whether the catastrophic narrative is actually true. Ask what else is true. Hold both. And when the person in front of you can’t find their own footing yet, your job is to stand on solid ground for them.    

Key Takeaways:

  • There is no script. How to support someone after failure depends on who they are and where they are in the moment. Read the person before reaching for the playbook.
  • Presence over prescription. In the immediate aftermath of failure, a calm, quiet presence is often more valuable than advice. Being comfortable sitting in discomfort is a leadership skill.
  • Ask “what else is true?” Failure narrows vision. The role of a coach or leader is to gently widen it again – not by dismissing the pain, but by creating space for a more complete picture.
  • Draw on your own failures. When leaders and coaches share their own setbacks, they signal that failure is survivable and that the path forward is real.
  • Help break the spin. Writing things down can interrupt the circular thinking that often follows a high-stakes failure.
  • Hold the belief for them. Sometimes people can’t access their own resilience. That’s when a coach or leader holds it for them, until they can hold it themselves.
This article is part of Third Factor’s Story Behind the Story series, where we unpack both iconic and under-the-radar Olympic and Paralympic moments. In this feature, Monique Kavelaars, Director of Assessments & Team Coaching, reflects on lessons from the 2020 Tokyo Games, held at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. — The plane to Tokyo was silent. Back home in Canada, the Olympics would look the way they always do on polished TV broadcasts: sweeping shots of stadiums, stunning skylines, and close-ups of athletes at their best. But inside the aircraft carrying Canadian athletes to the Games, the feeling was entirely different. There was no buzz. No joking. No shared anticipation. Just quiet. And with it, a growing awareness among everyone on board: These Olympics would not feel like the Games we had all imagined. Normally, the Games are saturated with energy. The host city transforms. Flags line the streets. The weight and pride of representing your country hits the moment you step off the plane. Tokyo was different. These were the Games of 2021, delayed by a year due to the pandemic. The virus was still sweeping the world, and strict health protocols shaped every aspect of the experience. Athletes could arrive only days before their event and had to leave within 48 hours of competing. Movement was restricted. Social spaces were controlled. Spectators were absent. The usual swirl of family, friends, fans, and media simply wasn’t there. What emerged instead was an intimacy that was both unexpected and unsettling. For some athletes, the lack of external stimulation helped. Fewer distractions. Less noise. A clearer path to focus. For others – especially those in individual or multi-day events – the absence of atmosphere created a quiet, persistent question: Is this really the Olympics? At night, the stillness would occasionally break. Teams gathered inside their country residences, setting up projectors to watch events they would normally attend in person. When Italy’s Marcell Jacobs won the men’s 100 metres, the Italian residence erupted. No cameras captured it. The sounds of the celebration instead echoed through the village. The next day, that energy spilled into shared spaces in a way that rarely happens during the usual chaos of the Games. Athletes had to deal with a lot of downtime. With fewer ways to decompress – no exploring the city, no meals with family, no spontaneous celebrations – athletes were left mostly with their thoughts. For those processing a performance, especially one that didn’t go as planned, that isolation could feel heavy. Normally, there is movement, distraction, and connection. In Tokyo, there was often just a quiet walk back to a room. Coaches and federations worked hard to create some sense of normal. In many cases, their support was remarkable. But the conditions were far from ideal. All this raises a deeper question that extends far beyond sport: What do you do when the conditions you prepared for no longer exist? The lessons from Tokyo go well beyond the athletes to offices and boardrooms.

Lesson #1: Perfect Conditions Are a Myth

One of the clearest lessons from Tokyo is that “perfect conditions” are largely an illusion. Athletes spend years preparing, yet competition is always uncertain. They never know exactly how their body will respond, how opponents will perform, or what the environment will deliver on the day that matters most. Tokyo made that impossible to ignore. There were no guarantees. No familiar routines. No comforting rituals. Daily COVID testing became part of life. Every morning meant spitting in a tube and waiting. Stories circulated of athletes testing positive and being sent to the “fever clinic.” Each time, the village would ripple with silent worry. And still, athletes showed up to compete. I remember one athlete in an individual event whose entire Olympic experience lasted nine minutes. One performance. First round. Done. This was not the Games she had imagined. Within 48 hours, she was on a plane home. When we spoke, she was heartbroken. Not just about the result, but about the experience she missed. She couldn’t explore Tokyo. She couldn’t soak up the atmosphere and carry it forward into the next four-year cycle. “I don’t want to go yet,” she said. “I still want to feel the Olympics.” That moment captured the emotional whiplash of Tokyo. Years of preparation compressed into minutes, followed by an abrupt exit from a city she barely saw. And yet, she stepped in knowing this might happen. That willingness to enter uncertainty is the essence of sport. It also mirrors leadership and business more than we wish to admit. At work, we try to control what we can: plans, timelines, strategies, forecasts. We design “ideal conditions” in our heads and on our slides. But at some point, courage becomes simpler than that. We need to ask: What is mine to control right now? Then commit to that fully, even when the picture is incomplete. The bar shifts from “I will only perform if conditions are perfect” to “I will perform under the conditions that actually exist.” Listen to Monique describe how perfect conditions are a myth:

Lesson #2: Self-Awareness Is a Performance Skill

When the external environment changes, self-awareness becomes non-negotiable. It becomes a performance skill. Many athletes rely on specific conditions to bring out their best. Some feed off the energy of a crowd. Others depend on routines and rituals. Others draw strength from the presence of family or familiar faces. In Tokyo, much of that disappeared. Athletes were forced to ask new questions: These weren’t theoretical questions. You could see them play out in ordinary moments, like the dining hall. One day, news spread that a Dutch rower had tested positive. Soon after, their delegation began eating in a cordoned-off section tucked into a corner, behind additional glass partitions. They were in the same room as everyone else, yet unmistakably separated. The signal wasn’t just “they have COVID.” It was the uncertainty of not knowing who might be next. Everyone shared the same building, the same air. Suddenly, the invisible risk became visible. For some athletes, it triggered anxiety. For others, it sharpened focus. Either way, it demanded awareness – and more questions: The same holds true for leaders. In times of disruption, copying what works for others rarely works for us. The best coaches in Tokyo understood this. They protected individual performance needs rather than imposing a single approach on everyone. Self-awareness isn’t introspection for its own sake. It’s knowing what you need to sustain performance when familiar supports disappear – and being honest enough to ask for, or build, those conditions. Listen to Monique describe how self-awareness is a performance skill:

Lesson #3: Presence Calms the System

In Tokyo, just arriving felt like an achievement. Between testing protocols, travel restrictions, health concerns, and constant logistical hurdles, getting to the Games was a maze. For many athletes, coaches, and staff, stepping into the village carried real emotional weight. Thinking too far ahead—to medals, expectations, outcomes – only amplified anxiety. Presence became more than a mindset. It became a stabilizer. Staying anchored to the next task, the next decision, the next controllable action helped athletes manage fear, disappointment, and even success. Because even success was disorienting. Celebrations were brief. Support systems were limited. Within two days of competing, many athletes were back home, sitting on a familiar couch, trying to process an experience that ended almost as quickly as it began. Uncertainty didn’t end with competition. It followed them home. The parallel to today’s work environment is hard to miss. Markets shift. Plans change. AI is reshaping roles and workflows in ways we can see but not yet fully understand. Conditions are moving faster than our slide decks. The leaders who navigate this best aren’t the ones who eliminate uncertainty. They’re the ones who stay present inside it. Presence doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine. It means acknowledging what’s hard, then returning to a simple question: Given everything going on, what matters most right now? Listen to Monique describe how presence can help focus attention:

Beyond Tokyo: Adapting When the Script Changes

The Tokyo Games offered a powerful reminder: resilience isn’t about grinding endlessly. It’s about adapting intelligently when the script changes. It starts with acceptance. Some conditions are out of your control. The first step is to separate what you can’t influence from what you can – and invest your energy there. It also requires honest self-recognition: Finally, presence is a discipline. Returning attention to what matters now – not what you wish were different – creates space for better decisions and better performance. The dining hall in Tokyo captured this paradox perfectly. Athletes moved through masked, partitioned spaces. Delegations like the Dutch, seated behind glass after a positive case, were a constant reminder that uncertainty was everywhere. It was strange. At times chaotic. And undeniably real. Performance didn’t stop because conditions weren’t perfect. It adapted. And that may be the most enduring lesson of all.  

Build Resilience In Your Organization

Bring the skills that elite athletes use to build resilience and perform under pressure to your organization. Contact us to learn more about our resilience programs.

Bring skills that elite athletes use to build resilience to your organization. Contact us to learn more.

This article is part of Third Factor’s Story Behind the Story series, in which we unpack the stories behind both iconic and under-the-radar Olympic and Paralympic moments. In this feature, Olympian and Third Factor Associate Trainer Karyn Garossino discusses the importance of control and how it shaped her approach to competing at the Olympics. –

“In high-performance sport, and in fact much of all high performance, consistency is the holy grail.”

–Karyn Garossino

From the outside, Karyn and Rod Garossino’s ice dancing performance at the 1988 Calgary Olympics looked like a hometown dream. A brother and sister from rural Alberta. Competing for Canada. An Olympics on home ice. Five flawless performances on the biggest stage in sport. What people saw was excellence. What they did not see was how hard it was to stay steady enough to deliver it. For Karyn, the Olympics were shaped by two moments she could never have predicted. One came before the competition even began, while athletes waited to enter the opening ceremonies. The other came standing at centre ice, when a roaring hometown crowd would not stop cheering. Together, these moments revealed something essential about high performance: preparation matters, but so does an ability to adapt when things do not go as planned.

From Carstairs to the Olympic Stage

Karyn and her brother Rod grew up in Carstairs, Alberta, where skating was simply part of Prairie life. What started as a love of the sport became a serious pursuit, supported by strong coaching, family commitment, and years of disciplined training. In 1981, the pair won junior ice dance gold at the Canadian National Skating Championships, and throughout the decade, they competed at the highest level in Canadian, international and World Championships. Then Calgary won the bid to host the 1988 Olympic Games. Suddenly, the idea of competing at a hometown Games became real. As that moment got closer, so did the pressure. Like many athletes facing a once-in-a-lifetime moment, Karyn prepared not only physically but mentally for what it would feel like to perform under a global spotlight.

Different Fabric. Same Cloth.

One of Karyn’s most vivid Olympic memories came before the competition started. Athletes from around the world gathered in a staging area ahead of the opening ceremonies. Each team was dressed in its country’s colours. But as the wait stretched on, things got a little playful: jackets were briefly traded, hats and scarves were exchanged, and the differences between teams started to fade.

“We were wearing different fabric, but were cut from the same cloth.”

What Karyn felt in that moment was a deep sense of connection and the awe of belonging to the historic Olympic movement. These athletes represented different nations, but they shared similarities – years of sacrifice, discipline, routine, and the pursuit of excellence. In her words, “we were wearing different fabric, but were cut from the same cloth.” One by one the nations left to join the ceremonies saving the host country to march in last. Then Team Canada entered the stadium. The sound of 85,000 people thundered through the building. In that instant, she realized something else: This was not just her Olympics, or even just the athletes’ Olympics It was our Games. The moment belonged to everyone who had made it possible: athletes, coaches, families, volunteers, organizers, sponsors, and an entire country. What she expected to feel as an individual competitor became something much bigger: the incredible honour of wearing red and white and representing the extraordinary collective effort of a nation.

The Crowd Wouldn’t Stop Cheering

If the opening ceremonies created awe, the competition brought a different kind of pressure. When Karyn and Rod were announced onto centre ice, the crowd erupted. That part was expected. What was not was that the cheering didn’t stop. Normally, once skaters take their position, the arena quiets and the music begins. But this audience kept cheering, waving flags, and feeding even more energy into the building. The music could not start until the arena settled, so Karyn and Rod stood in position and waited. And waited. For a brief instant, they felt the weight of what was happening. They exchanged a smile and a shared realization: Oh my God, we’re at the Olympics. It was a deeply human moment. But it was also risky. Because even positive energy can get in the way of performance. The challenge was not only handling fear or adversity. It was managing excitement, emotion, and the significance of the moment. Karyn knew they had to get back to what they had trained for. They turned to breathwork, a skill they had practised for years to steady themselves under pressure. Within three exhales, they were back in form. Their activation level dropped. Their focus returned. Their physiology settled. The crowd eventually quieted, the music began, and they performed brilliantly. They achieved a 12th-place Olympic finish. The next year, they would win gold at the senior Canadian Championships. Looking back, what lessons did Karyn learn from her Olympic experience that are helpful to anyone facing high-performance situations? Here, she helps us understand three practical takeaways:

Lesson #1: Consistency Is Built Before the Moment

Karyn describes consistency as the holy grail of high performance: the ability to deliver what you are capable of in any condition, not just ideal ones. That consistency was built long before the moment arrived. Karyn and Rod prepared not only their skating but also their mindset. Through imagery and planning, they anticipated the noise, emotion, and pressure of the Games so they would not be overwhelmed. That is a critical lesson for any high achiever – whether in sports or business. The goal is not to hope everything goes perfectly. It is to be ready when it doesn’t. Consistency is not about controlling the environment. It is about training how to respond to it. Listen to Karyn describe how consistency is built before the moment:

Lesson #2: Control What You Can Control

One of Karyn’s clearest lessons from Calgary is simple: high performers must learn to distinguish between what they can control and what they cannot. She could not control the crowd. She could not make the audience quiet down. She could not change the scale of the moment. What she could control was her own internal state. That distinction matters because pressure grows when we fixate on things we cannot change. Recovery begins when we return to what we can manage: our breathing, our attention, our preparation, and our next move. In that moment on the ice, the solution for Karyn was not to fight the environment. It was to return to the training that brought her to the Games. Listen to Karyn distinguish what you can control and what you cannot:

Lesson #3: Breathwork Is a Performance Skill

Karyn is clear that the breathing exercise she used in Calgary was not improvised. She had practised it for years. Its purpose was to manage the body when the outside world became overwhelming. Slow, controlled breathing gave her a direct way to regulate her physiology and recover focus. Her method was simple: breathe low and breathe slow. Under pressure, breathing rises high into the chest and speeds up. But when breathing starts lower in the body, from the diaphragm, and the exhale lasts longer than the inhale, the body begins to relax. That matters because physiology drives performance. If your body is overstimulated, thinking narrows and execution suffers. When your physiology settles, your trained skill improves. In Calgary, three breaths were enough because Karyn and Rod’s skills were already there. That is what makes breathwork so powerful: it is not just a calming technique; it is a trained performance tool. Listen to Karyn provide insight into how breathwork is a performance skill:

Practical Tool: Return to Centre in Three Breaths

When pressure rises unexpectedly, use this simple reset: This is not about becoming calm for its own sake. It is about executing what you’re capable of and meeting the moment with excellence.  

Build Resilience In Your Organization

Bring the skills that elite athletes use to build resilience and perform under pressure to your organization. Contact us to learn more about our resilience programs.

Bob Safian, former editor of Fast Company, once described the evolution of organizational change in a visceral way that has stayed with me. He said change used to feel like crossing a river. You stepped off solid ground, navigated the current, and eventually reached stable ground on the other side. Today, it feels more like crossing an ocean. The waves come from every direction. Just as you get past one, another wallops you. Then another. Forget about the shoreline. There’s none in sight. That image captures what leaders are experiencing now. We are not managing one big disruption, then going back to normal. We are operating inside a permanent state of flux. We’re managing today’s business while trying to build tomorrow’s amid unprecedented economic, technological and societal changes. Over three decades of working in high-performance environments, I have learned that while we cannot control the waves, we can control how we respond to them. Three practices can make a meaningful difference.

01.

Start With Mindset. Then Respond.

02.

Prevent Isolation.

03.

Create A Culture Of Feedback.

01. Start With Mindset. Then Respond.

Nobel-prize-winning psychologist Daniel Kahneman observed something deeply human about surprise. When unexpected events occur, people tend to believe the lesson is that they now know what to do in similar circumstances in the future. We assume the mistake was a lack of information or insight. But this is the wrong conclusion. The real lesson is that the future is inherently surprising. No matter how prepared we are, some events will catch us off guard. That realization changes everything. When leaders shift from asking, “How did we miss this?” to saying, “Of course something unexpected happened,” they build resilience in their teams. They create space for response instead of reaction.

“Over three decades of working in high-performance environments, I have learned that while we cannot control the waves, we can control how we respond to them.”

Jocko Willink, a former U.S. Navy SEAL commander, trains his teams to respond to setbacks with a single word: “Good.” If a mission is delayed, good — there is more time to prepare. If resources are reduced, good — it forces simplification. “Good” is not meant to dismiss difficulty. It is meant to redirect energy toward action. Serial entrepreneur Brad Jacobs learned a similar lesson in his twenties. When he once presented his mentor, Ludwig Jesselson, with a long list of business problems, Jesselson responded bluntly: “If you want to succeed in business, you must get used to problems. That is what business is all about: solving problems.” Jacobs would later say that this advice shaped every leadership team he built. Still, mindset alone is not enough. Letting go of an outcome people were deeply invested in is not a purely intellectual act. It is emotional. Frustration, disappointment and fear surface quickly when plans unravel. That is why elite performers rely on ritual. Defensive backs in the NFL sometimes use a mental “20-second clock” to feel the impact of a play and then release it. NHL star Connor McDavid, after a difficult shift, removes his helmet, runs his fingers through his hair once, and resets. Performance psychologist Jim Loehr found that elite tennis players use the 25 seconds between points to perform deliberate physical and mental routines that lower their heart rates and restore focus. In business, the ritual will look different. But leaders who help their teams develop a deliberate reset — a clear transition from what just happened to what happens next — build resilience into their culture.

02. Prevent Isolation

When people struggle with change, they rarely announce it. More often, they withdraw. They stop asking questions. They avoid drawing attention to what they do not yet understand. They tell themselves they will figure it out before asking for help. How to prevent isolation Competent adults do not like feeling incompetent. When change triggers that feeling, the instinct is to work harder in private rather than admit their struggles in public. Yet isolation slows learning. People move up learning curves faster when they receive feedback, hear about best practices and learn what to avoid. Progress accelerates when difficulties are shared. A leader’s role, then, is not to rescue but to interrupt the silence. When someone says, “I haven’t really started yet — there’s so much to learn,” the instinct may be to give them a pep talk. A better move is to ask, “Where could you start?” That question helps identify a small, manageable step the individual could take. By breaking the overwhelming into bite-sized bits, something important will start to happen. Progress will become visible, and confidence will follow. And confidence changes how people experience change itself.

03. Create A Culture Of Feedback

In The Culture Code, Daniel Coyle depicts one of the most remarkable examples of rapid team problem solving under pressure. On July 19, 1989, United Airlines Flight 232 suffered a catastrophic loss of hydraulic control over Iowa. The odds of that failure were estimated at one in a billion. There was no checklist for it. No training scenario had prepared the crew. The plane’s pilot, Captain Al Haynes, did something critical in that moment. He did not attempt to solve the problem on his own. First, he accepted help from an off-duty flight instructor who was a passenger. Then he asked his crew, “Does anyone have any ideas?” What followed was a real-time exchange of up to 60 pieces of information a minute among the crew – what was working, what was not, what they needed next – solving problem after problem to fly their dying aircraft to an airfield where they had a chance. Together, they crash-landed the aircraft in Sioux City. Of the plane’s 285 passengers, 185 survived. The accident could have been far worse if not for the crew’s actions. Later, experienced test pilots attempted to replicate the landing in simulators. None succeeded. The difference in the landing was not skill alone. It was communication. The crew members who survived weren’t more skilled than the test pilots. They had better information because they asked for it, shared it quickly with one another and integrated it into their operations.

“The challenges organizations face are too complex and too fast-moving for any one person to solve alone.”

For leaders today, the lesson is clear. The familiar phrase, “Do not bring me problems; bring me solutions,” is largely obsolete. The challenges organizations face are too complex and too fast-moving for any one person to solve alone. The capability you need is already inside your team, your colleagues, your organization. As a leader, it’s your job to unlock it. Build a team where giving and receiving feedback is simply part of how work gets done – where people are comfortable bringing problems forward, knowing the group will help solve them.

There’s only one certainty

We can be certain of one thing: the waves are not stopping. The shore will not always be close. Sometime over the next several months, something none of us anticipated will test our well-laid plans again. The question is not whether uncertainty will appear. It is whether we treat it as a temporary interruption or as the environment itself. Leadership in this era isn’t about having a better crystal ball. It’s about building habits that hold when predictions fail – the habit of coaching your team to reset quickly; helping your people to reach out instead of retreating; and building a culture where feedback and open idea exchange are the norm, not the exception. These practices do not eliminate uncertainty. But they change how we move through it. And sometimes that’s enough to keep us moving forward in turbulent seas.  

Key Takeaways:

  • Expect the unexpected. The lesson of surprise isn’t that we missed something. It’s that the future will always contain surprises. Build teams that respond quickly instead of searching for blame.

  • Shift to response mode. When plans break down, redirect attention to the next action. Progress starts the moment the team moves from reaction to response.

  • Reset quickly. Elite performers use small rituals to move on from mistakes. Leaders can help teams create deliberate resets that refocus attention on what happens next.

  • Interrupt isolation. Change often causes people to withdraw. Leaders accelerate learning by encouraging small starting points and open conversation.

  • Make feedback normal. Complex challenges require shared intelligence. Teams perform best when problems and ideas move quickly between people.

Meet our expert: Dane Jensen, CEO

Dane Jensen is an expert in leadership and performance under pressure. He is an acclaimed speaker, an instructor at Queen’s University and the University of North Carolina, is a regular contributor to Harvard Business Review, and is the author of The Power of Pressure: Why Pressure Isn’t the Problem, It’s the Solution. Alongside his corporate work, Dane serves on the Board of the Canadian Paralympic Committee.

“Our organization recently announced 5% across-the-board budget cuts. The CEO indicated that there will be further, deeper cuts coming over the next couple of years – but there is no information about when they will come, who they will affect, or how deep they will be. How do I keep people motivated with all this uncertainty?”

First and foremost – this is a very difficult situation. It’s one thing to deal with cuts, but another entirely to have future cuts hanging over the business like the sword of Damocles. Research out of University College London showed that the body exhibits significantly higher levels of physical stress – high cortisol, muscle tension, etc. – when there is a 50% chance of receiving pain (an electric shock in the case of the experiment) vs a 100% chance. When we need to live with this stress over a prolonged period it can be very draining. While there is no easy answer here, there are a few strategies that can help:

01. Acknowledge reality

While it might seem counter-intuitive, it is important to sit with the team and acknowledge the danger rather than ignoring or dismissing it. The Stoics advocated a technique called ‘negative visualization’ in which we play out potential negative outcomes in advance to rob them of their power to create irrational distress. It is far better to work as a group and process reality– “what are the scenarios we are most worried about here? How would the cuts play out? What would it mean for us?” – than to have members of the team playing their own disaster movies in their heads at night on repeat.

02. Keep attention focused on controllables

With reality on the table, the most helpful thing a leader can do is to keep the team’s attention focused on what is within their control. Helplessness is at the root of the negative impact of stress, and the goal here is to feed a sense of agency. There are two parts to this discussion: ‘where can we act to influence how this plays out?’ and ‘what is out of our control that we need to let go of?’ Clarity on what we are not going to focus on is as important as clarity on where we do want to focus.

03. Help people find a reason to commit

Motivation is energy, and energy comes from having a good answer to the question ‘why am I doing this?’. For people to lean in and commit they need to be able to answer at least one of two questions: Helping each person on the team clear a line of sight to how this period could help strengthen or develop them, and how their efforts will contribute to others, is a very valuable use of a leader’s time. Through it all, the leader’s job is to help people focus their attention productively: to avoid the night-time doom loops by surfacing and processing fears head-on, identifying the things that are a waste of time and attention and redirecting to controllables, and helping people surface and clarify what makes devoting effort to the team’s goals a meaningful use of their energy. Good luck to you – it is not an easy situation you find yourself in, but it is also in these periods that we build leadership muscle. Connecting with how this will serve a purpose in your growth, and recognizing that your effort will make a huge difference to your team is just as important as how you help your team frame it.  

Key Takeaways:

  • Uncertainty is often more stressful than bad news. Leaders must recognize that ambiguity itself is the pressure their teams are experiencing.

  • Name the reality instead of avoiding it. Shared clarity reduces unnecessary psychological strain.

  • Direct attention to what can be controlled. Leaders build resilience by clearly separating what the team can influence from what must be let go.

  • Connect effort to purpose. A clear “why” sustains commitment when circumstances are uncertain.

  • Leadership is attention management under pressure. The role of the leader is to channel energy toward meaningful action.

Imagination, belief and energy are precious resources that need to be carefully nurtured when high performance is the goal. At the same time, saddling someone with an unattainable target because you don’t want to dampen their enthusiasm risks a catastrophic failure that can destroy self-confidence and trust in the coach. An ambitious but naïve performer setting an unrealistic goal for themselves is commonplace: a direct report applies for a role where they are unlikely to be the successful candidate; an individual you coach sets a performance target for themselves based on their best year ever when headwinds are coming on strong; or your team is running a pilot project that’s very unlikely to get the green light to proceed. How can you communicate belief in the performer, while at the same time protecting them from experiencing what could be a devastating setback?

A moment of insight

One such moment for me happened over 20 years ago when I was working as a swimming coach in Thousand Oaks, California. I was coaching an adult swimming group – or as we called them, “Masters Swimmers” – to prepare them for the first competition of the summer. Masters swimming competitions are interesting events: the beer tent opening is as big a deal as the performances in the pool. But, make no mistake, the performances matter to the athletes.
“I immediately realized I had made a mistake”
I was doing some goal-setting work with an athlete who had recently taken up the sport and asked her what she thought would be a good goal time for her 100-meter freestyle. Her answer was completely unrealistic, so I suggested a much more attainable goal. The smile vanished from her face, her shoulders slumped, and I immediately realized I had made a mistake. In my well-intentioned effort to save this performer from disappointment, I had limited what she could imagine for herself, communicated a lack of belief in her capabilities and cut off a key source of energy.

Don’t fear negative emotion

In that moment, my gut reaction was to spare this person from setting herself up for failure. What I’ve learned is exceptional coaches know that negative emotion is an inherent part of the journey of growth and development. Progress isn’t linear. When people are testing their limits and doing things that they’ve never done before they will experience setbacks from time to time. And when those setbacks occur, they will experience negative emotions such as frustration or disappointment. But people can survive frustration and disappointment. On the other hand, if you encourage them to set safe goals that you know they will achieve, you limit the powerful “pull forward” that comes with imagining what might be possible.

Frame a range of outcomes

While negative emotion is a powerful tool, the coach still needs to prevent a devastating failure. Where I suggested a new goal in place of the one my swimmer had set, I could have included it in a range of possible outcomes that framed a realistic performance as a level of success. In practice, this looks like a series of goals that includes the most ideal outcome and also a few other outcomes that are more realistic and attainable. Framing targets in this manner helps performers to dream about what might be possible while at the same time preparing them for when the ideal outcome does not occur. This approach is also a useful way to help a perfectionist objectively assess their performances.
“Perfectionists often evaluate any imperfect performance as failure”
Perfectionists often evaluate any imperfect performance as failure. By working with the performer to set a range of target outcomes in advance, the coach is then in a position to help them evaluate their performance against objective criteria. This often results in the perfectionist being forced to admit that their “failure” was in fact a “good performance” or at worst “one they can live with.”

Blend empathy and accountability

If the performer doesn’t achieve their ideal outcome, help them harness the negative emotion and use it to fuel growth rather than rushing in to try to make them feel better. Do this by first allowing them to sit with the emotion of the moment. Be there to help them process the experience by providing a listening ear. And then, when the performer seems ready, ask them for their thoughts on how to move forward. And then work with them to create a plan to increase the likelihood of an improved result next time.

Re-writing history

If I could go back in time and revisit that moment on the pool deck when that athlete suggested an unrealistic goal, what would I do? I would have accepted that negative emotion is a natural part of the growth process. And rather than trying to shield them from the possibility of failure, I would have allowed them to dream about what might be possible. I would have helped them set a range of goals. And if they failed to achieve their ideal outcome, I would have helped them process the disappointment and then channel that energy into the process of getting better. Of course it was that moment of less than stellar coaching, and the resulting disappointment I felt with myself, that ultimately helped me find a better way forward.