Zak O’Sulivan

Zak’s entry into motorsport began at eight, after convincing his dad to buy a go-kart he’d seen at the Autosport International Show.

“After a year of pleading with my dad, for my eighth birthday I got a go-kart, and it all started from that point on.”

The sacrifices started early. Weekends became race days. Social life took a back seat. School was managed around travel. But there was no resentment—this was his decision, his dream to follow.

Progression through karting was solid but not spectacular, but then, in 2019, came the step up into cars. Zak was quickly up to speed, then winning consistently and convincingly. This confirmed what Zak and others already suspected: he could compete—and win—at every level.

Fast forward to 2024: Formula 2. On paper, it was supposed to be the final push toward F1. Instead, a regulation change crippled his team’s performance. Results dried up. Momentum stalled. And eventually, due to budget constraints, he had to step away from the championship entirely and reassess his options.

“Make no mistake, it was the most consequential year of my career—and nothing went right.”

These moments aren’t uncommon in racing. Every driver hits a point that tests more than skill—it tests resolve. That was one of them for Zak. But even then, he didn’t lose his footing. He moved on. Recalibrated. Regrouped.

Zak was already quick when he started working with Kieren—but he didn’t yet have a process. The programs Kieren developed helped Zak understand how to think about performance, how to train, how to reflect, how to lead. Not just what to do, but when, why, and how to repeat it.

Moving from karting to tin-tops and then into single-seaters brought a new set of demands each time, and more and more the gym became a non-negotiable part of the work.

“The biggest adjustment from karts to cars was the physical side of racing.”

Then came F1 test.

“The step up was unbelievable. The g-force was something else—I was completely destroyed.”

A year later, after dedicated physical program work in the gym, he got back in. Same car, same challenge. But this time, he was ready.

Beyond the physical, Zak had learned another lesson that would prove just as important: the value of strong, strategic management. At the top levels of motorsport, talent alone doesn’t get you there. Timing, opportunity, and relationships off-track matter just as much—sometimes more.

Having the right people in his corner—those who understand the politics, know how to navigate the paddock, and can map a long-term path—became critical. Whether it’s stepping into high-pressure meetings, protecting leverage during negotiations, or finding the right seat for the next step, those moments often define careers.

The road to F1 had been carefully planned—mapped out over several years. On paper, it made sense. But motorsport rarely follows a linier path.

That’s where management matters most: not just to build a roadmap, but to adapt it. To pivot. To keep the momentum alive when a door closes.

“People becoming a professional racer isn’t just about lap times. Actually, sometimes, it’s just about having someone who can fight your corner when you need it.”

After stepping away from F2, Zak didn’t disappear—he and the Kokoro team recalibrated. Through a series of behind-the-scenes conversations, meetings, and introductions, He secured a dual programme in Japan—racing in both Super Formula and Super GT—alongside a simulator role in Formula E. It kept him sharp, visible, and embedded in the system. Still active. Still relevant. All the while, staying focused on the next major opportunity.

As Zak moved up the ladder, his mindset shifted. Where early success came from raw execution, long-term performance started to rely on perspective. He learned to zoom out, think in terms of championships rather than weekends, and focus on what really mattered.

“The ability to look at the bigger picture is very helpful. To hyper-analyse [a certain element] can sometimes actually be really detrimental.”

Off-track, he levelled up too. The training got sharper. The travel routines got smarter. The diet, the recovery, the communication—it all became part of the performance model. Not just a driver, but a professional.

But Zak feels his biggest leap wasn’t physical, and it wasn’t on track. What changed most was Zak, the person.

“I think my identity as a driver off-track has probably evolved more than on-track.”

Over time, he learned how to operate inside teams—not just to drive, but to manage personalities, read situations, and influence decisions. That part of the job—the internal politics—might not be visible from the outside, but it’s often where careers are made or lost. Zak believes it’s become one of his greatest strengths—and one of his defining attributes.

Zak doesn’t like to talk about rivals. He doesn’t compare. His mindset is minimalist: show up, focus on the job, and execute.

He doesn’t believe in overworking for the sake of it—he believes in working better. Professionalism, to him, is precision.

“It’s not about turning your life into the job. It’s about knowing what works—and doing it.”

Where does he learn the most? Experience.

“Testing limits. Making mistakes. Living through the pressure.”

Ask what his edge is, and he won’t answer.

“That’s a secret.”

Zak’s proudest trait isn’t something you’ll find on a results sheet. It’s his ability to raise the standard—for himself, and for those around him. He expects a lot. But he matches it.

He’s not interested in becoming a brand or a broadcast darling. He wants to race. He wants to win. He wants to build a career that lasts.

What’s next?

“Make a living racing cars. Where that takes me—I’m not sure yet. But there are plenty of options, and some very exciting ones in the pipeline.”