The founder of Spartans Boxing Club believes discipline builds empires, not talent

Russell Harrison laughs when he calls business a contact sport, but the joke lands with the kind of truth you feel in your ribs. He’s not talking in metaphors — at least, not entirely. The co-founder and chief revenue officer of Spartans Boxing Club has built a company that lives and breathes the rhythm of the ring. Gloves up, chin tucked, eyes forward.

Spartans began as one gym in Singapore. Today, it’s a growing franchise across Asia Pacific and the Middle East — a network of boxing clubs built around three pillars: the franchise itself, a calendar of events that bring amateurs into the ring, and a training academy that helps coaches turn passion into profession.

Together, they form a loop — athletes become coaches, coaches become business owners, and business owners return to build new communities. It’s boxing reimagined as infrastructure.

When the team decided to franchise in 2018, Harrison and his partner were learning as they went. “One simple principle kept us on track — what would we have paid for to derisk and safeguard the initial investment?” he says. “Business is a contact sport,” he repeats, this time with a grin. “Having someone in your corner can be the difference between success and failure.”

That corner — that sense of backing — defines how he sees franchising. For Harrison, a good franchise isn’t about stamping out sameness. It’s about giving people a framework to fight their own battles well.

“Our franchisees don’t necessarily need to love or know anything about boxing,” he says. “But a passion for fitness and bringing people together is a prerequisite.”

Discipline over talent

Community, he insists, is culture — and culture, the soul. Spartans live or die on that code. When a new location opens, it’s not about branding the walls but about finding people who understand the unspoken rituals: how to welcome a first-timer, how to build trust in sweat, how to create a place where showing up feels like belonging.

Still, he admits, it’s not easy. “I’d love to say that we’ve completely mastered this part of the business, but I think we still have work to do,” he insists. Scaling a feeling — the camaraderie of shared exhaustion — is harder than any training camp. You can write systems. You can’t automate spirit.

That’s where many newcomers stumble. They enter the ring expecting a shortcut. “A franchise does not give you licence to print money,” Harrison says. “It doesn’t guarantee your ultimate success.” His tone sharpens. “It’s still your business, and you still need to run it. You need to be entrepreneurial enough to start a business, and compliant enough to follow a model — these two attributes are often mutually exclusive.”

He’s seen it all — the overconfident, the burnt-out, the ones who forget that even the best system needs sweat to stay alive. His advice is unromantic: lead your team, communicate clearly, and keep your guard up. Franchising, like boxing, rewards discipline more than talent.

The real battle is care

The pandemic tested that resolve. But as the world rebuilt itself, Spartans found the wind shifting their way. “Post-Covid-19, the wellness and fitness sector has seen a massive upswing,” he says. “Health and fitness consumers have become much more sophisticated.” The company doubled down on innovation — product evolution, technology, brand storytelling — anything that kept their franchisees ahead of the curve.

And yet, for all his talk about growth and systems, Harrison returns to the same thing — people. “A truly successful franchise starts with a commitment and passion for the community and the people who make up that community,” he says. “Whether it’s the members or the staff, a successful franchise owner sees it as their mission and responsibility to look after their people.”

That’s the real fight. Not the ones under the lights, not the neatly branded openings, but the daily grind of care. Of showing up, teaching, rebuilding, again and again. “Our best franchise owners live and breathe our values,” he says. “All day, every day.”