Leaders with epic hobbies seem to squeeze more hours out of the day than the rest of us
4 min
Many of us can barely keep up with our jobs, never mind hobbies. Yet some top executives run marathons, wineries or music-recording studios on the side. How can they have bigger responsibilities and more fun than we do?
It can seem like ultrahigh achievers find extra hours in the day. They say they’ve just figured out how to manage their 24 better than the rest of us.
They also admit they take full advantage of the privileges of being a boss—the power to delegate and the means to do things like jetting to Denmark for a long weekend of windsurfing.
Dan Streetman trains as many as 20 hours a week for Ironman triathlons in addition to his job as CEO of cybersecurity firm Tanium. It’s a big commitment for anyone, never mind a corporate leader who travels to meet with customers every week. He pulls it off by sleeping fewer than seven hours a night and waking around 5 a.m., planning his exercise sessions months in advance, and switching his brain from work mode to sport mode almost as fast as he transitions from swimming to cycling during a competition.
“I tend to work right up until the day of the race,” says Streetman, 56 years old. “I remember being on a board call on a Friday night, and Saturday morning was an Ironman. That’s just part of it.”
Ahead of business trips, he maps running routes in unfamiliar cities and scouts nearby pools, often at YMCAs. He rides stationary bikes in hotel gyms and, if they’re subpar, makes a note to book somewhere else next time he’s in town.
Leaders who eat, breathe and sleep business can appear out of touch at a time when employees crave work-life balance and expect their bosses to model it. Today’s prototypical CEO has a full life outside of work, or at least the appearance of one.
Their tactics include waking up early, multitasking and scheduling fun as if it were any other appointment. When you’re a top executive, hobbies tend to disappear unless they’re on the calendar. One CEO told me he disguises “me time” as important meetings. Only his assistant knows which calendar blocks are fake.
Ben Betts calls himself a “spreadsheet guy,” which is a bit like saying Michelangelo was a paint guy. With Excel as his canvas, Betts creates cell-by-cell checklists for just about everything he does, from cooking Christmas dinner to building a coop for newly hatched ducklings.
Betts, 41, is CEO of Learning Pool, a professional-development software maker. The duck home is part of his ambitious effort to restore an 18th-century farmhouse in England. He’s been renovating for about five years and aims to finish this fall.
On a recent Saturday, Betts’s spreadsheet called for stripping overhead beams by 5 p.m. so he could refinish them. Otherwise, the task would have to wait until the following weekend, throwing off his whole timeline. His vision of the home as a cozy enclave—completed in time for the holidays—can only come true if he sticks to a precise plan.
“Sometimes I stand in the doorway, and my wife probably wonders what I’m staring at,” he says. “I’m picturing us on a corner sofa with our two kids and the dog, watching a film in front of the fireplace I installed.”
John Sicard , president and CEO of supply-chain manager Kinaxis , got back into drumming many years after he let go of his dream to become a professional musician. He practices almost every day, but his sessions sometimes last only 20 minutes. He rehearses with bandmates two or three times a month. That’s enough to prepare Sicard, 61, to play Foo Fighters and Led Zeppelin covers at occasional charity gigs.
He also built a studio in his house, where he records up-and-coming artists. He finds time by sticking to this management philosophy: “The most successful CEOs do the least amount of work.”
For Sicard, that means letting his lieutenants take charge of—and responsibility for—their divisions. Many corporate leaders work harder than they need to because they micromanage or hire poorly and pick up the slack, he says.
Thomas Hansen , president of software maker Amplitude, is back to windsurfing, a sport he competed in as a teenager. He lives near the ocean in California but gets out on the water only about once a month, when the waves are just right. Hobbies don’t need to be daily activities to be fulfilling, he says, especially if they require training regimens.
To stay in shape for windsurfing, he rises at 4:30 a.m., seven days a week, for an hour of exercise. Hansen, 54, also guards his Saturdays and Sundays like the crown jewels of Denmark, his native country, limiting himself to two working weekends a year. Things that feel urgent can almost always wait till Monday, he contends.
When Christine Yen isn’t calling the shots at work, she’s circling a racetrack at 80 mph on her Honda CB300F motorcycle. The co-founder and CEO of Honeycomb, which helps engineers diagnose problems in their software, took up racing a few years ago.
Prepandemic, her motorcycle was strictly for commuting in San Francisco—and making an impression. She loved pulling up to investor meetings in her hornet-yellow helmet and leather riding suit.
“It fits me like a glove, and it makes me feel like a badass,” says Yen, 36.
The keys to spending full days at the track are planning and being willing to work at odd hours, Yen discovered. Her favorite track publishes racing schedules in 10-week batches. As soon as a slate is released, she circles the dates when she expects her workload will be lightest, aiming to participate in roughly half of the events.
“I have also been known to bring my laptop to the motel and get some work done in the evenings,” she says. “It sounds boring to say hobbies can be scheduled, but that’s how I protect my time.”
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Rachel Zegler and Gal Gadot star in an awkward live-action attempt to modernize the 1937 animated classic.
Rachel Zegler and Gal Gadot star in an awkward live-action attempt to modernize the 1937 animated classic.
3 minDisney’s first “Snow White” isn’t perfect—the prince is badly underwritten and doesn’t even get a name—but it is, by turns, enchanting, scary and moving. Version 2.0, starring Rachel Zegler in the title role and Gal Gadot as her nefarious stepmother, has been in the works since 2016 and already feels like it’s from a bygone era. After fans seemed grumpy about the rumored storyline and the casting of Ms. Zegler, Disney became bashful about releasing it last March and ordered reshoots to make everyone happy. Unfortunately, the story is so dopey it made me sleepy.
Directed by Marc Webb (“The Amazing Spider-Man” with Andrew Garfield ), the remake is neither a clever reimagining (like “The Jungle Book” and “Pete’s Dragon,” both from 2016) nor a faithful retelling (like 2017’s “Beauty and the Beast”), but rather an ungainly attempt at modernization. The songs “I’m Wishing” and “Someday My Prince Will Come” have been cut; the big what-she-wants number near the outset is called “Waiting on a Wish.” Instead of longing for true love (=fairy tale), Snow White hopes to sharpen her leadership skills (=M.B.A. program). And she keeps talking about a more equitable distribution of wealth in the kingdom she is destined to rule after her mother, the queen, dies and her father, having made a questionable choice for his second spouse, goes missing.
Ms. Gadot, giving it her all, is serviceable as the wicked stepmother. But she doesn’t bring a lot of wit to the role, and the script, by Erin Cressida Wilson , does very little to help. Her hello-I’m-evil number, “All Is Fair,” is meant to be the film’s comic showstopper but it’s barely a showslower, a wan imitation of “Gaston” from “Beauty and the Beast” or “Poor Unfortunate Souls” from “The Little Mermaid.” The original songs, from the songwriting team of Benj Pasek and Justin Paul (“La La Land”), also stack up poorly against the three tunes carried over from the original “Snow White,” each of which has been changed from a sweet bonbon into high-energy, low-impact cruise-ship entertainment. So unimaginative is the staging of the numbers that it suggests such straight-to-Disney+ features as 2019’s “Lady and the Tramp.”
After escaping a plot to kill her, Snow White becomes friends with a digital panoply of woodland animals and with the Seven Dwarfs, who instead of being played by actors are also digital creations. The warmth of the original animation is totally absent here; the tiny miners look like slightly creepy garden gnomes, except for Dopey, who looks like Alfred E. Neuman . As for the prince, there isn’t one; the love interest, Jonathan (a forgettable Andrew Burnap ), is a direct lift of the rogue-thief Flynn Rider , from 2010’s “Tangled,” plus some Robin Hood stylings. His sour, sarcastic tribute to the heroine, “Princess Problems,” is the worst Snow White number since the one with Rob Lowe at the 1989 Oscars.
Ms. Zegler isn’t the chief problem with the movie, but as in her debut role, Maria in Steven Spielberg’s remake of “West Side Story,” she has a tendency to seem bland and blank, leaving the emotional depths of her character unexplored even as she nearly dies twice. Gloss prevails over heart in nearly every scene, and plot beats feel contrived. She and Jonathan seem to have no interest in one another until, suddenly, they do; and when he and his band of thieves escape from a dungeon, they do so simply by yanking their iron chains out of the walls. Everything comes too easily and nothing generates much feeling. When interrogated by the evil queen, who wants to know what happened to her stepdaughter, Jonathan replies, “Snow who?” Which would be an understandable reaction to the movie. “Snow White” is the fairest of them all, in the sense that fair can mean mediocre.
