You do not have to look far in the world of sport to find other examples of this professionalism.

In the last week, for example, we have learned about the techniques used by tennis star Raphael Nadal to enable his recovery from a career threatening injury to win the US Open last month. In addition to the customary rehabilitation, this included the use of "bloodspinning" where blood is removed from the body, spun in a centrifuge, and then re-injected around the affected area - in Nadal's case his knee tendons.

We have also learnt more about the use of "altitude" chambers by British athletes before the London Olympics last year where they slept in tanks with artificially reduced oxygen levels and therefore forced the body to produce more red blood cells.

This is not to mention the gruelling training and recovery regimes, the precision of pre-competition preparation and the state-of-the-art kit provided by companies like Crewroom, as well as the means taken to maximise commercial worth.

This world is very different from that of the 1990s when Kate Giles was a member of the Great Britain rowing team. "I was on minimal funding so it was very different to today," she told insidethegames. "You cannot have a job now as well for example. I enjoyed combining working with training because I always liked the balance but things move on."

Giles also explained the changes in kit since she first founded Crewroom in 2001. "At first everyone wanted cotton and we had to eventually explain that it had become more technical than that. They would say 'this cotton dries out really quickly' and we'd have to say that was because it's not actually cotton!" Innocent days indeed...

Crewroom founder Kate Giles poses with the British canoe and Para canoe squads on the rainy banks of the Thames




In this late 1990s era lays my foremost memories of sport. It was indeed a transition time - in the first years of lottery funding after the British catastrophe that was the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, and in the immediate aftermath of the amateur to professional transition in sports such as rugby union.

My first sporting heroes were the pioneers of this new age and their professionalism was often mocked rather than applauded. The absurdity of Paula Radcliffe running 150 miles per week and rugby player Jonny Wilkinson spending hours on his own taking shots at goal and then doing it all again because he missed one kick, for example.

However, in 2003 Radcliffe's still unbroken marathon world record and Wilkinson's last minute drop goal to win England the World Cup changed this perception. These standards were gradually becoming the norm rather than the exception.

The likes of those future knights in cyclist Chris Hoy and sailor Ben Ainslie were further pioneers.

Since he agonisingly missed gold as a teenager in Atlanta, Ainslie in particular defines every element of a modern winner. He used the most ruthless of tactics to triumph against the odds at Sydney in 2000, and then overcame adversity to do so again at Athens 2004, Beijing 2008 and London 2012 where his "they did not want to make me angry speech" and subsequent domination was arguably the greatest moment of the Games. This is not even to mention his part in perhaps the greatest comeback in sporting history to win the America's Cup with Team Oracle last month...

I have had the fortune to glimpse two of these four stars in my short time with insidethegames. Casually having my lunch at the London 2012 Olympic Stadium in the press room at the Anniversary Games in July I was astonished to see Radcliffe plonk herself down on the same table and was embarrassingly too star struck to pluck up conversation.

Fast forward several months and when the chance arose to speak to Sir Chris at the Queen's Baton Relay in London I was not going to miss out.

"Sir Chris, a quick word" I said with all the confidence of a seasoned hack as I thrust my recording device in front of him and walked alongside him down the street - struggling desperately to keep pace with surely the most powerful legs in sport. The fact that I had forgotten to turn my recorder on, and thus had nothing to show for this endeavour, unfortunately shattered this confident facade...

Sir Chris Hoy clad in his kilt (his marriage one apparently) at the Queen's Baton Relay is one of the pioneers of British sporting success


Another great pioneer was a kayaker in the recently retired Dr Tim Brabants, one of the last great champions to combine a career with his sporting success - although it is worth noting that this was an "either or", rather than a "both-at-the-same-time", kind of arrangement.

For the generation which came after these figures this professionalism has become second nature, and youngsters coming through now do not know anything else.

When having lunch - chicken and vast quantities of potatoes for the record - with members of the GB para-canoe team at the kit unveiling, I casually - and ignorantly - asked as to how the athletes surrounding me had done at the recent World Championships. "I won silver, he won gold, she won bronze and she won silver. Oh, and she behind you won three gold medals," was the reply.

Yet the refreshing thing which I noticed with GB Canoeing was how much they obviously enjoyed this lifestyle. As they measured up for their new kit, they laughed and joked and willed one of their number to fall in into the Thames as he precariously balanced his boat to satisfy one of a photographer's more ambitious whims.

However at the same time the squad had already completed one grueling training session and had another to come. They were also, unlike the journalists present, completely unbothered by the rain which unsurprisingly accompanies most of their training sessions on these shores.

This regime was described by the London 2012 gold medalist Ed McKeever who, huddled away from the limelight in jeans and his new tracksuit, emphasised both dedication and unassuming modesty.

When asked if it was hard to return to training post London, McKeever admitted that "it might have been tough at first" but seemingly without really meaning it before he described his training regime (three sessions a day) and his plans to win again in Rio.

He was similarly modest when talking about his profile post London. "I wouldn't say my profile has changed significantly - it's quite a minority sport and the successes I've had have not made too much of a difference," he admitted to insidethegames. 

"Obviously it would be nice if there was more interest and it would push up the numbers in canoeing a little bit but its just one of those things which will hopefully pick up in the future."

London 2012 Olympic champion Ed McKeever was the epitome of modesty as he described his training regime and post-kayaking career plans


Like his predecessor Dr Tim, McKeever also has a career and is qualifying as a chartered accountant, but he was keen to point out that this is very much for his post-canoeing future rather than the present.

It is virtually impossible to balance training to win the Olympics with working in the modern world.

The great thing now and most of all in British sport is that success is very much on a conveyer belt. Just as Brabants was followed by McKeever as the king of the Great Britain team, among the many young athletes huddled in the Crewroom workshop another star will surely be unveiled at Rio 2016 or beyond.

The Crewroom partnership, with all of its professional ethos of the modern day, will only aid this process.

Even if we may miss the halcyon days of amateurism nothing beats the success of the revolution inspired by Ainslie and Wilkinson, Brabants, Radcliffe and Hoy and the foundations that have been laid for today.

Nick Butler is a reporter for insidethegames