What Does It Take To Be An Olympian? 6 Athletes Describe The Struggles And Glory
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Mental fortitude. Unapologetic authenticity. Ability to pivot. Upward failure. Calculated risks. Immense pride.
When you ask the following six athletes what strength feels like to them, no one refers to the awesome feats of physical power they achieve daily, their hard-won PRs and accolades, or even the possibility of wearing a shiny gold medal on the most revered podium in the world. When they want to channel true strength, they look inward, reflecting on and growing from the life lessons that molded them into world-class athletes. Each moment of triumph represents the culmination of a long personal journey. And the real prize is in the process.
Ahead of their much-anticipated trips to Paris for the 2024 Summer Olympic and Paralympic Games, Women’s Health asked six of Team USA’s brightest stars to meet us, quite appropriately, on top of the world—at a sun-kissed observation deck in New York City, on a serene cliff in Malibu, in the legendary mountains of Colorado—and give us a peek into their world. Here, they share what inspires them to attack their sports with determination, passion, and, of course, undeniable strength.
Sunny Choi: Breaking
Age: 35. Hometown: Louisville, KY. Top Honors: Silver, 2022 World Games; Gold, 2023 Pan American Games.
Long before breaking was on her radar, Sunny Choi was a promising gymnast who quit the sport after a series of injuries and reinjuries. Without the gym as an anchor, she was lost; she’d never had time for hobbies or hangs with friends. In college, a spiral of partying derailed her—until she met a breaking group and decided to give dance a shot. But she had a lot to learn before she earned her spot on Team USA, in a sport that will make its Olympic debut in Paris. “My hope is that people see the authenticity,” she says. Here, Sunny shares what it takes to dance on the Olympic stage.
“I always had a bit of a bittersweet relationship with breaking. It was so hard for me, and it challenged me in ways I’d never been challenged before. But I also loved it for the same reasons. By the end of college, I was training seven days a week. My whole life, I’d spent so much time doing gymnastics outside of school, so I think I was looking for something to fill that space. I just threw myself into the deep end.
In some ways, breaking was harder because there’s an added mental piece: the on-the-spot creative element. We don’t know the song the DJ is going to play in competition. You can kind of choreograph rounds in advance, but most of us freestyle to stay true to the roots of breaking. You don’t know what will come out of your body, so you have to be prepared for anything. The mental work goes hand in hand with breaking.
When I first started dancing, I used to sit in the corner of the room and watch everyone else. I felt like I couldn’t dance in front of people because I was too shy, too timid, too scared of being judged. I didn’t know who I was yet—how can I express myself if I don’t know who I am? There were so many internal questions and struggles that breaking brought up, and I knew I needed to take them head-on.
I realized I had such a high standard for myself and wanted perfection, but in life, nothing is perfect. I needed to let that go. I pushed myself to let mistakes happen and find beauty in those mistakes. It was a constant evolution of myself as a person through dance. Every time I’ve worked through something internally, it’s like I’ve unlocked a new avenue of breaking.
At the end of the day, my mental prep is about setting aside that need to be the best. We’re always talking about being the best version of ourselves, and I think I have to accept that the best version of me is going to look different every single day, including on the day I compete at the Olympics. It might not be subjectively the best in somebody else’s eyes, but that’s the best version of me that day. I’m choosing to radically accept myself as I am, flaws and all.
Years ago when I was dancing, I looked confident, but I was using my smile as a facade to hide a lot of things I wasn’t ready to show yet. Today, there’s more depth to what I do. I’m not always smiling the entire time, but I show more of me. Strength isn’t about that facade of having everything together. It’s about letting things fall apart sometimes. It’s about being vulnerable. It’s about being open, it’s about learning, it’s about failing. It’s about everything that goes into you as a human that makes you you.”
Hailey Danz: Paratriathlon
Age: 33. Hometown: Wauwatosa, WI. Top Honors: Silver, 2016 and 2020 Paralympic Games; 3-Time World Champion.
Hailey Danz grew up playing every sport she could until she was diagnosed with bone cancer at 12 years old. “I was fighting for my life, but I also felt like I was in this identity crisis,” she says. “If I can’t do the things I love, who am I?” Once in remission, and after several surgeries, her left leg was “pretty functionless.” So, at 14, after meeting kids thriving with prosthetics, Hailey made the decision to amputate her leg and get back to an active lifestyle. She began dabbling in every sport. Triathlon intimidated her at first—“I always thought it was super badass,” she says—but 13 years later, she’s a three-time world champion and two-time Paralympic silver medalist. Here’s how she got there—and what she’s aiming for next.
“When I was in college, I was looking for a summer internship opportunity, and I knew I wanted to be outside and work with kids. I interviewed with triathlete Keri Serota at Chicago’s Great Lakes Adaptive Sports Association. At the end of the interview, she said, ‘I’ll hire you as my intern, but if I do, you’re going to have to do a triathlon this summer.’
I hadn’t ridden a bike since losing my leg. I didn’t have a running leg. I didn’t know how to swim. Keri was like, ‘That’s fine. That’s what we’re here for!’ For every excuse I had, she had an answer. I think she saw a spark in me that I didn’t even know was there at the time.
At the beginning, I can’t say I enjoyed it. It was so hard. There were new neural pathways that had to be created. But crossing the finish line of that first triathlon fundamentally changed how I saw myself. Up to that point, I identified as a cancer survivor and an amputee. In that first race, I became a triathlete—something that only a small percentage of people who are fully able-bodied can say. If I could do that, I could do anything. It gave me confidence that carried over into other aspects of my life. I was hooked.
A team of us have been training together since 2018, and we elevate each other by bringing out the best in one another. There are so many days when I wake up tired, exhausted from the day before, and I don’t feel like going to practice. But I have this group of people counting on me to be there, and when I show up, they lift me up. There are other days when they’re feeling down, and I get to be the one who lifts them up. Some of us compete against each other, but we believe that we can all succeed together. There’s no way I would still be doing this if I didn’t have them.
This year, I’m heading to my third Paralympics. I know what to expect now—and I’m expecting it to be really, really tough. No one prepares you for how emotionally taxing the Paralympics are. The highs are so high and the lows are so low, and it feels like you’re constantly swinging back and forth between the two. I experience a lifetime of emotions in that one week. So I’ve got to make sure I’m going into this one ready to handle it.
I won silver at the past two Paralympics. I was going for gold at the last one, and that disappointment was crushing. I remember feeling guilty for feeling disappointed, because silver is incredible. But I realized I wouldn’t be the athlete I am if I wasn’t looking for more.
Strength is that ability to rise to any occasion, ignore disappointment, pivot, and get the job done no matter what. I’m doing everything I can to make sure I’m at the absolute top of my game for Paris, because I really want that gold medal.”
Jess Savner: Modern Pentathlon
Age: 32. Hometown: Bethlehem, CT. Top Honors: Gold, 2023 U.S. National Championships.
If you think one sport is hard, consider modern pentathlon: a five-sport wonder that includes equestrian show jumping, fencing, swimming, running, and shooting. Jess Savner was the perfect candidate, as a former track and field athlete who also had experience in triathlon and horseback riding. She jumped in headfirst. “My third pentathlon ever was a World Cup,” she says. “So when I say I jumped in, I jumped in.” More than a decade later, she’s the reigning U.S. champion. She shares how she manages the unpredictability of five events, and how her experience carries her.
“I used to be an anxious athlete. I was that person at the start line at my high school track and field meets looking at everybody around me and judging them—like, ‘Oh my god, she looks like she’s going to be fast.’ I was spending so much time internally losing that I wasn’t allowing myself to actually win.
I started speaking to myself in a more positive way: ‘You are just as good. You can do this.’ Now, I spend a lot of time in my head visualizing the results I want over and over again, so when I’m there, my body knows that I can do it.
In modern pentathlon, seniority is an advantage. We know how to handle the stress, how to move from sport to sport, how to feel comfortable at the starting line. Those are things you have to learn after years of putting in the work. It doesn’t happen overnight.
At the 2023 Pan American Games, where I qualified for the Olympics, I wasn’t having the day of my life. I had a rough fence. The swim was whatever. I wasn’t in the place I wanted to be, but I knew I had a leg up on the people I was trying to beat because I’d been there.
I was comfortable. I’m able to compartmentalize each event. If you let one bad performance take you down, then the rest of the event will also take you down.
An average day for me has three or four training blocks, which can be the sports, strength training, or cardio. It may seem like a lot, but I say the same thing when I see people who go in to a 9-to-5 desk job. I’m like, ‘How do they do that?’
This is my last season as a modern pentathlete—I’m retiring after Paris. After this, the sport will change. They’re removing equestrian and adding obstacle course racing. It makes this Olympics special; it’s our last dance. This sport goes out in the country where it was created.
For now, though, I’m super laser-focused. I have not had the best competition of my life yet. I truly believe I will be able to do that at the Olympics.
My strength is looking at the whole picture and being proud of what I’ve accomplished. It’s not about the wins, but about enjoying the process. Once I get there, I’m going to be fired up, but most important, I’ll be there with my teammates, coaches, and family, knowing I gave this crazy sport everything I had.”
Ilona Maher: Rugby
Age: 27. Hometown: Burlington, VT. Top Honors: 6th Place, 2020 Olympic Games.
Ilona Maher knew rugby would be her perfect match. “The sport fit my body like a glove,” she says. Coaches realized early on that they should get the ball to her, because she’d go through opponents, not around them. She dominated her first game. But she never expected to go pro, let alone play at the Tokyo Olympics. “I don’t really consider rugby a career, because it’s not like I can retire with millions,” says Ilona. She has balanced multiple side hustles, including social media influencing and her new skin-care brand for athletes, Medalist Skin—and does it all with sincerity and humor. What that journey has meant to her…
“The social media stuff started organically. I was at a tournament in Spain in 2021, quarantined in a hotel. My best friend and I made a TikTok in our U.S. rugby gear, and I started to see a response to it. So for three days, I pumped out content. I got 5,000 followers. At the tournament, some guy was like, ‘You’re the TikTok girl.’ You start to realize how powerful it can be. At the Olympics that year, I used TikTok to get our sport out there, and I want other girls to get into rugby. I knew I had something different, being very candid and authentic, which a lot of athletes have trouble with. They’re told to focus on their sport and not post on social media. They have to be grinding. I feel like I can do both.
When you tell somebody you’re an Olympian, they are amazed—it holds a lot of weight. But I’m trying not to say that my sole focus is the Olympics, because it’s fleeting. My sport is six 14-minute games, then it’s over. So it’s important to enjoy every moment. I travel the world and play the sport I love with my best buds. The laughs in the locker room, the practices, pushing my body—that’s what I want to remember.
I post a lot about body appreciation because the work never stops. It’s important for girls to see me out there showing that with this frame, with my broad shoulders, being big can be beautiful, and it doesn’t take away from your femininity. That’s why I wear red lipstick when I play. I don’t want to put female athletes in a box. I’m a beast on the field, I’m beautiful, and I’m smart. I’m not just one thing. It takes strength to be yourself. Everyone always tells me, ‘You’re so unapologetically yourself.’ And it’s like, what’s everyone else doing? It’s just who I am.”
Ashleigh Johnson: Water Polo
Age: 29. Hometown: Miami, FL. Top Honors: Gold, 2016 and 2020 Olympic Games.
Water polo is synonymous with family for Ashleigh Johnson and her four siblings. “I could have fun, be challenged, and felt free,” says the goalie, who started playing at 9. She didn’t aspire to be an Olympian—she chose to play at Princeton University for its academics (she wanted to be a doctor). When Ashleigh took a chance on the USA Women’s Senior National Team, she realized that could also feel like home. In 2016, she became the first African-American woman to make the U.S. Olympic water polo team, winning back-to-back gold medals. She describes why she’s not a typical player—and how that became key to her success.
“Water polo players usually don’t want to be goalies. You’re getting a ball shot at you at high speed, you might jam your finger, and you usually don’t get to score. It’s a brutal position, but it also takes so much intelligence and so much engagement.
Most goalkeepers stay pretty vertical in the goal—their job is to move around a little semicircle in front of the goal, similar to a basketball court, and make blocks. I do that, but I also come out of the goal a lot for steals. I play a little bit more horizontal. I challenge shooters to make different kinds of shots. I’m also dynamic and vocal. I’ll talk the entire game. I overcommunicate, partly to keep my focus in the game, but also to keep everyone on the same page.
The pressure of being a goalie is tough for a lot of people. You have to have a very special type of mindset. For me, I know that water polo is a team game. I’m the last line of defense, and that responsibility is on me, but I’m holding myself accountable along with the defense in front of me. That mindset—focusing on the pressure diffusing throughout the team—is a good one. I am not personally going to win a game. We all are.
Being a role model for diversity in aquatic sports is something I carry with me as I represent on the world stage. Growing up, I didn’t see myself in this sport. Knowing that I’m in a position to be an example for so many people definitely motivates me to be here and to play my best—and that just so happens to take no extra effort from what I’m already doing. It’s really cool that I can pull people along with me just by being myself. There need to be more people of color in our sport—people of color in aquatics in general. I play with that on my chest and I’m proud to do so.
My differences ended up being my strengths. I’m now paving the way for more people who look like me to be in our sport. And more goalies want to play the way that I play. There’s space for everyone in water polo if you’re willing to take the risk. I tell kids all the time to be who you are and the space will open up for you. Bring your whole self. You don’t need to try to be someone else to fit in.”
Jajaira Gonzalez: Boxing
Age: 27. Hometown: Glendora, CA. Top Honors: Bronze, 2023 Pan American Games.
Raised in a family of boxers, Jajaira Gonzalez was not a fan of the sport as a kid. “I remember saying, ‘Boxing’s for boys. I don’t want to get punched in the face,’” she recalls. Even when she agreed to compete, there weren’t any girls in her weight class and age group, and she’d leave the event unopposed. Her dad, a boxing coach, kept her going anyway, and by the time she began fighting regularly, she dominated—and started to love it. By 2016, she’d won multiple junior world championships and finished second at the Olympic Trials. But Jajaira quickly learned that if her mental health isn’t on point, her boxing wouldn’t be either. She explains how she overcame big challenges.
“I joined the military in 2016 to get regular boxing practice, but being away from home made me realize that I took my dad’s coaching for granted—nobody pushed me as hard as he did. Without him, I started slacking off.
I trained for two weeks, at the most, for a national tournament, and I lost to a girl I had TKO’d three times before. There was nobody to blame but myself. I wasn’t training as hard, and I wasn’t motivated. I developed anxiety. It was all so new and different.
I decided to take a break from boxing to get my mind right, and then the pandemic happened. My one-year break ended up being almost four years. I gained 30 or 35 pounds and broke up with my then-boyfriend, who I was living with in Virginia at the time. All I had was my dog, who kept me going. But it was very dark and very lonely. I wasn’t happy.
My anxiety got really bad. I went to the hospital a few times feeling like something was wrong with my heart—it would hurt, and then it would start beating fast, and then I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was going to die. And I had to go through all that by myself, because my family was back home in California.
I got a job as a kickboxing instructor. One day, I was scrolling Instagram on my break and saw that USA Boxing had taken a group to compete in Spain, which is my dream place to visit. I was looking at all the women that were there, and I was like, ‘I beat her, and I beat her, and I beat her up in sparring. I should be there. What is wrong with me?’ I had missed boxing before, but that’s when it hit me: I wasn’t born to work all day at a job I didn’t like. I should be traveling the world doing what I love. I should be going to the Olympics.
So I made the move back to California and started training with my dad again, who got me ready for nationals. I won. That got me back on the USA Boxing team, which is huge, because if you’re not on the team, you don’t get paid. I also started seeing a therapist with my athlete insurance, which helped me stop bottling my emotions.
I did hit more snags, but I didn’t let my losses affect me mentally this time. Instead of becoming unmotivated by a loss, I worked harder. My therapist always tells me to control what I can control and put the rest behind me. That’s what I did, and that’s what helped me punch my ticket to Paris.
The mind is a powerful thing. I feel my best when I’m mentally strong, comfortable, and happy, and that affects everything else. People don’t get a second, third, or fourth chance like this. I’ve got to stop playing with my blessings, and instead, take full advantage of them and do what I have to do to bring back Olympic gold.”
USA
Spain
Taiwan
Australia
Germany
Japan
Portugal
Netherlands
South Africa
United Kingdom
Photographed by Beau Grealy. Styled by Kristen Saladino. Hair and makeup by Kristen Pulice.
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