I’ve written end-of-year messages before. They usually try to wrap things up neatly. This one won’t.

This time last year, I sent an email outlining Black Sheep’s and my own 2025 goals. If you want to skip ahead and call my bullshit out, go for it. Our performance against those goals was pretty good. But if you go a little deeper, below the surface, it’s not all roses.

On paper, things look solid. Last month was our biggest ever. More importantly, over the past twelve months, our Do Good contributions grew from $301,325.94 to $388,688.05. On a personal level, I ran a marathon, competed at the Hyrox World Championships, moved house, and travelled overseas with my family multiple times. All is rosy, right? Far from it.

"This year forced me to confront things I’d been able to avoid. About the business. About myself. About what it actually costs to keep showing up and pretending everything is fine." 

This year forced me to confront things I’d been able to avoid. About the business. About myself. About what it actually costs to keep showing up and pretending everything is fine because the brand, or I, look like we’ve got our shit together from the outside. 

Black Sheep has grown into something meaningful. Bigger than me. Bigger than the product. That’s been a privilege. But we’re still a small business with very real pressures, and I’m human with very real limits. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t take a toll.

The year felt like a series of contradictions. Managing cash flow in this climate is incredibly challenging, while also trying to keep a team happy, motivated, and growing. Building autonomy within individual roles is essential to scale, but let go too much and the standards you’ve become known for can slip. Then there’s the insatiable entrepreneurial urge to create more, do more, and push forward, while also trying to be present for my wife and our two girls. At best, it feels busy. Most of the time, it feels completely out of balance. Like you’re failing everyone, and most of all, yourself. At many points this year, each of these pressures crushed me.

The tension of running a business, or more broadly just trying to succeed, is something I know many of you share. And as I alluded to earlier, it rarely shows up in highlight reels or YouTube videos. Am I good enough? Is this what I want to be doing? Is the version of Black Sheep that feels most true to me also the version that lasts?

You hear founder anecdotes about being prepared to fail, or learning to ignore the internal noise. That’s great in theory, but it doesn’t fully reflect my experience when other people’s livelihoods are tied to the decisions you make. That weight lives in your head. It lingers. It slowly eats away at you.

"We made mistakes. Some were visible. Many were not. Some decisions took too long. Some conversations should have happened earlier."

Then there is the need to ensure that you don't go the other way. To assume everything is in your head. To not be blind to the realities. The truth is, we did make mistakes. Some were visible. Many were not. Some decisions took too long. Some conversations should have happened earlier. Some pressure was carried quietly when it should have been shared. But there were also a fuck load of wins. We sold a lot of product. We ran the 10th edition of the Man Ride, and did events we’d wanted to do for a long time. In hindsight, I think I’m often guilty of living too much in emotion, instead of facing reality clearly, both the good and the bad.

So, to keep this grounded, it feels like the right moment to look honestly at where we landed against the goals we set at the start of the year (you can see the original email here).

Personal Goals

So no, this year wasn’t as dark as it is in my head at times. But it was revealing. And it highlighted some big areas for improvement, not just for the business, but for me.

Right now, we’re not chasing noise or growth. We’re doing our own thing. I’m listening. To our team. To the athletes who trust us. To the quiet signals that tell you when something needs care, not acceleration.

If you’ve supported Black Sheep, worn our gear, shown up to events, trusted us with your time, your money, or sent me a message that I haven't replied to, thank you. That support is never taken lightly, even when it isn’t always acknowledged properly.

See you on the road.

John Polson
Founder, Black Sheep