Tom Knight: JJB's chief is a runner who aims to win the race

6.45am

Tom Knight finds it easier than most to fit in his gym routine before work. As head of JJB Sports, a quick weights session almost is work now that the sports retailer has moved into leisure clubs. He is up and out the door quickly for the half-hour drive into Wigan, JJB's home.

Like most men in his industry, Mr Knight freely admits he is a "frustrated sportsman". After all, JJB wouldn't even exist if its founder, David Whelan, hadn't broken his leg playing for Blackburn Rovers in the 1960 FA Cup Final. "If we're not good enough to be sportsmen at least we're involved in a clean, healthy industry that helps to promote dreams," says the stocky-but-trim 54-year-old Mr Knight.

The one-time professional sprinter no longer runs, so instead heads for the rowing machines. He is trying to break seven minutes for 2,000 meters but still has to shave off six seconds. "I just play around. If I did a proper programme I might get there."

8am

He is showered and dressed a tad more formally (his gym attire is either Nike or Adidas "depending on who's given me the stuff for free") by just before 8am. Breakfast is always a bowl of porridge, eaten at his desk while trawling through e-mails. He starts by going through the sales and margin data for each of the group's 400-odd outlets, which can make for hairy reading depending on how hard Mike Ashley, his bête noire at Sports Direct, has been trading his own stores. Mr Ashley is notorious for his slash 'n' burn approach, which has made life pretty gruesome of late for his rivals.

The number of major sports chains in the UK has dwindled to just three in the past five years after the collapse of Allsports and a dozen or so regional chains. "Sports World has culled the market and cleared everyone out," says Mr Knight. He is no friend of Mr Ashley, who blew the whistle on an alleged replica kit price-fixing scam in 2000 that ended up costing JJB £8m in fines.

9.30am

A quick internal meeting with the heads of JJB's various departments - buying, clothing, replica, footwear - throws up the fact that supplies of the new Liverpool shirt are running dangerously low. With no stock in the warehouse, it's a question of plundering shirts from stores far from Liverpool's heartland. The club's semi-final place in the Champion's League has boosted sales, helping to make up for the shortfall in England replica kit sales brought about because JJB is up against such tough comparisons from last year's World Cup high.

Mr Knight reckons JJB will lose out on some £20m of replica sales this year, given that rugby and cricket just don't have the same pulling power when it comes to dressing like sheep.

10am

Normally by about now Mr Whelan might be thinking about putting in an appearance. He may no longer have a figurehead role but the 30-per cent shareholder is still wedded to the company that he started in 1971. Plus, as an executive director, he has to earn his crust. As it is, Mr Whelan is at his Barbados holiday home and has yet to wake up so Mr Knight has a couple more hours of peace and quiet.

Time then for a meeting with Adidas which, along with Nike, is JJB's most important supplier. JJB is rolling out special Adidas (and Nike) branded areas in its stores, which is helping to increase both its revenues and gross margins. It has done 40 Adidas refits and 26 Nike ones so far but has plans for up to 600 by the end of 2008.

JJB's master-plan boils down to being "serious about sport", which means its stores have to look the part as well as sell the right stuff. Mr Knight, who after all does have a couple of serious running titles to his name, spotted the yawning gap in the market for a chain that sold more than the latest fashion must-have (pink high-tops that scream "1980s", if you're curious). Whether JJB's sporting credentials are quite all they're cracked up to be is another matter - it says it is the UK's number one golf retailer, but size isn't everything. Serious golf enthusiasts certainly beg to differ.

11.30am

It's results week for JJB, which means that Mr Knight has to get himself word-perfect on the group's travails of the past 12 months before he heads to London to face the City. For the first time in a long time he has something positive to say. Since he took over as chief executive in 2002, JJB has been running hard just to stand still. Sports Direct's bargain basement prices have savaged JJB's margins, causing its profits to halve during the past five years. Becoming boss of JJB was a baptism of fire for Mr Knight. His predecessor, Duncan Sharpe, who was Mr Whelen's son-in-law, had just committed suicide by hanging himself. The business had been struggling and Mr Sharpe had sunk into a dark depression. "It was pretty fraught," Mr Knight admits of his first few months on the job. But now JJB looks to be climbing out of its hole. Profits are better than expected and crucially margins are heading in the right direction. As is the group's share price. Still well off the levels of around 450p it achieved in 2001, at 266p it is at least comfortably above the 220p ceiling that Mr Knight set in 2003 when the board rejected a bid approach at that level from Mr Whelan. It's even above the mooted 260p that the private equity house Cinven mulled offering a year later.

With so much private equity money yet to find a home, could JJB again find itself a target? Mr Knight bats away the thought. "I wouldn't encourage a sale to private equity at all because I believe that we have a plan that will offer big, big improvements over the next two years. I would be very, very disappointed if I don't get to see that through."

1pm

Lunch, as ever, is a sandwich eaten at his desk before a meeting with the group's distribution director. JJB came to blows with staff in its main Wigan warehouse last autumn over its attempt to impose a single wage structure. It took a couple of 24-hour strikes to force through a compromise, but not before Mr Whelan had incensed the GMB union by denouncing its proposal as tantamount to communism. Today's meeting is, ironically, about the union's pay demands ahead of the annual review.

3pm

The phone rings and it's Mr Whelan - "Dave". He likes to call several times a morning while he's on holiday - "I think he gets a bit bored." It's a slightly odd set-up for Mr Knight to have the company's founder still breathing down his neck but he's at pains to stress that he's the one calling the shots. The pair, who met when Mr Knight was working for Adidas in the 1970s, get on well. Except when they disagree about "footer", as Mr Whelan calls the beautiful game. (Mr Whelan, or "Mr Wigan" to locals, owns Wigan Athletic, while Mr Knight is a committed Newcastle fan.) As for whether Mr Whelan will ever let go entirely, Mr Knight doubts it. "I think he'll always want to have some sort of involvement."

6pm

Mr Knight calls it a day to head back for dinner with his wife, Claire. But first he has to walk the dog. Benson, the black labrador. Black labs are the canine of choice for the residents of Hale, the Lancashire village where he lives, apparently, "but Benson's the best".