What happens when your revenue disappears overnight?

When the UK went into lockdown in March 2020, PureGym’s business model collapsed overnight. Hundreds of sites closed, revenues dropped to zero and the company began burning more than £1.5m a day. For CEO Humphrey Cobbold, it was not a test of strategy, but of leadership under extreme pressure.

“It absolutely felt like an existential threat,” he says of those early weeks. With little precedent to follow, the response was immediate and highly operational. “It was literally on a daily basis. What do we need to deal with now?” The leadership team broke the crisis into manageable pieces, from shutting down 500+ sites to stabilising cash and reassuring stakeholders. Decisions were made fast, revisited constantly and prioritised ruthlessly.

That level of intensity exposed a core truth about leadership. Cobbold reflects that “character and strength is generally forged through adversity, you really find out whether you’re good enough when you get stretched to the limits”. It is a reminder that resilience is not built in comfortable conditions, but in moments where uncertainty is unavoidable and consequences are immediate.

Cash, unsurprisingly, became the defining metric. With no income, the business shifted from operational efficiency to survival mode. “You manage differently when you have no money coming in,” he notes. The clarity of financial backing proved decisive. Within weeks, Cobbold sought a direct answer from investors: would they support the business or not? That clarity shaped every subsequent decision. It highlights a critical discipline: in moments of stress, ambiguity is often more dangerous than bad news.

Yet the challenge extended beyond balance sheets. Cobbold was responsible for 7,000 employees, many of whom faced uncertainty about their futures. Communication became a leadership tool, both internally and externally. Contrary to instinct, he chose to step into the public spotlight. “We had to be out there telling our story,” he says, countering misconceptions that gyms were high-risk environments.

That visibility had an unexpected effect. It was not just about influencing policymakers or customers, but reinforcing belief within the organisation. Staff retention remained remarkably high, something Cobbold attributes in part to visible leadership. Employees “had confidence because I was out there talking with confidence and with belief in the future”. In uncertain times, silence can be interpreted as doubt.

The crisis also demanded difficult trade-offs. Senior leaders took significant pay cuts, with many foregoing salary entirely for months. Rather than avoid the issue, Cobbold addressed it directly, acknowledging the financial impact while deferring solutions. “We can’t deal with that now, we have to deal with the business, its survival,” he told his team. That sequencing, survival first, reward later, helped maintain alignment without losing focus.

As the business emerged, the lessons translated into strategic shifts. Changing working patterns have reshaped where demand sits, prompting a move away from city centres towards more residential locations. It is a practical example of how external shocks accelerate underlying trends, forcing businesses to rethink long-held assumptions.

More broadly, the experience appears to have recalibrated the organisation’s appetite for risk. “If we can get through this, we can get through absolutely anything,” Cobbold says. That confidence is not bravado, but the product of having navigated genuine uncertainty.

For leaders, the takeaway is not simply how to manage a crisis, but how to emerge from one. Adversity, handled well, does more than preserve a business. It strengthens the organisation’s capacity to deal with whatever comes next.