Simone Biles Wins More Than Gold

What does it take to succeed in life? As children, we are told that determination, hard work, and discipline are key ingredients to a fruitful career or accomplishing a goal. As adolescence comes around, however, we are faced with the disheartening reality that many other kids had set out to achieve the same goals that we had. Most of us give up on our childhood dreams after it becomes clear that the math is not in our favor (of America’s 2.5 million little league players, less than a thousand become major leaguers). A select few, however, still manage to stay in the game. As the field gets narrower, the stakes seem to get higher. For today’s sports culture, an athlete must be willing to win at all costs. They have little choice but to keep pushing themselves beyond their limits in order to excel where their peers have failed.

This is one reason why so many sports are a breeding ground for extremely hardcore culture. In gymnastics, arguably the most physically and mentally demanding sport in the world, there has been an ingrained stoicism. Pain is weakness leaving the body. Victory depends on either suppressing or overcoming your weaknesses. This kind of culture was exemplified by the 1996 women’s gymnastics Olympic team. After injuring her ankle during her first vault, Kerri Strug was told by her coaches to push through the pain and perform a second vault. She did exactly that, landing on one foot to win gold for the USA for the first time ever. Strug became an overnight sensation for toughing it out.

We remember Strug for her heroism because she stuck the landing, but it would have been a different story if her Faustian bargain had ended in a catastrophic injury.

As heroic as Strug’s victory was, this “whatever it takes” mentality can quickly spiral into a vicious mindset. Should one’s own physical prowess fail to win, one must turn to other means. Several respected cyclists have reported that many of the competitors in the Tour de France are still doping. When performance enhancing drugs fail to guarantee victory, one must sabotage the competition. Tonya Harding is the classic example of competitive treachery, hiring goons to bash in the knee of her rival Nancy Kerrigan before the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. As much as people like to vilify Harding, her crime is simply an honest expression of how we approach the sports world these days. Just ask the Canadian women’s soccer team.

In Nike’s new ad campaign, “Am I Bad Person?” the message is clear: Good sportsmanship be damned, winning is for those select few who are willing to do whatever it takes. “Am I a bad person?” asks a defiant Willem Defoe voice over as a montage of athletes rolls. The intensity gains speed as the monologue continues: “I’m deceptive, I’m selfish … I have no empathy. I don’t respect you … I have an obsession with power … I have zero remorse. I have no sense of compassion,” Defoe boasts. “Tell me. Does that make me a bad person?” As we watch Lebron James soar above the competition, we are encouraged to prioritize athletic mastery over moral character.

Thankfully, Simon Biles has given us a worthy alternative. Three years ago at the Tokyo Olympic Games and at the height of her prowess, she walked away. After getting the twisties, a mental block that gymnasts can develop that results in the loss of spatial awareness, Biles took herself out of the competition. After taking some time off, she told her coaches she intended to train for the next Olympics, but to her surprise, they said no. They were convinced that, should she ever return to the gymnastics world, it was crucial that she start small. When Biles finally walked back onto the mat, it was not as the greatest gymnast in the world, but a woman starting over with the basics.

Now, with her comeback having been solidified with yesterday’s gold medal victory, Biles has redefined what heroism looks like. Previously, athletes were forced to follow the win-at-all-costs model where performance enhancing vices and putting yourself in danger were the only ways to distinguish yourself from the pack. Biles, however, has introduced something new altogether: a model that recognizes weakness rather than overcomes it; a model that sees health in a more holistic sense. A successful athlete is not required to bite their lip and bear the pain. Rather, what makes a healthy person off the mat is actually what makes them healthy on the mat. This idea — that winning isn’t everything — harkens back to Jesus’ own words, “What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?”

Simon Biles’s success was not an exercise of mind over matter. Rather than suppressing or overcoming her weakness, she accommodated it. In the preliminary trials, Biles hurt her calf during warm ups for the floor routine. Spectators all held their breathe as they watched her limp off the mat. Would she tough it out, like Strug did, or walk away … again? Biles did neither. After some medical tape and treatment, stretching and testing out her injured muscle, Biles changed her routine. In the finals on the next day, Biles opted for the exact same vault as her teammate. A healthy Biles could have pulled off a yurchenko two-and-a-half twist easily, a hobbled Biles would have to settle for the excellence of mere mortals. Instead of shutting out her injury, she changed the calculation altogether, creating something beautiful within the limits of her physical and mental prowess.

In the immediate aftermath of the Tokyo Olympics, Biles’ decision to step away from gymnastics was hailed by most as exemplary self-care. With her team’s recent victory in Paris, Biles revealed something more profound: There is more to athletic success than sheer willpower and genetic giftedness.

In an interview after her gold medal victory, Biles did not boast that nothing could stop her, but admitted that she started her day with a therapy session that allowed her to feel calm and ready. When asked about becoming the most decorated U.S. gymnast in Olympic history, Biles responded, “Honestly, I would have to Google that. I don’t keep count; I don’t keep stats. I just go out here and do what I’m supposed to, and I’m doing what I love and enjoying it.” While many of us are convinced that selling one’s soul is a prerequisite for success, Simon Biles reminds us to not confuse gold with victory. That you can flip and twist your way into the record books, but if you have not love, you don’t have anything. Perhaps it’s an easy thing to say with a medal hanging around your neck, but Biles has the receipts to back it up.