Afterward, I told my teammates. I was honest, but also made some jokes. I told them I had breast cancer, but that it was caught at a very early stage, and that I would probably fix this quicker than I fixed my foot. I wanted to keep the energy positive. I even told them if they stopped during practice to give me a sad hug, I’d have to punch them. They kept their promise on that!
I’ve been working with my sports psychologist for six years now, and he plays a huge role, too. But while therapists are important, they’re not going to save you. I always say he’s my housekeeper—he cleans the mess that I can’t clean, gives me advice on what I should throw away, what I should keep. But there’s a lot of work I have to do too to let go of what was and lean into this difficult time. Writing is one way I release things, for example. Our mental health is important, not just for us, but for the people around us. We need to keep investing in it.
Control who’s in your (metaphorical) locker room.
The flip side of that is it’s okay to set boundaries. You don’t need unsolicited advice, and it’s okay to withdraw from conversations that make you uncomfortable. I’ve had a few of these, especially around my potential retirement. Some people hear the scary C-word, they know I’m 31 years old, I probably want to have kids, the Olympic year is over. But they come at it from a condescending perspective, and my retirement is a decision for me to make.
It’s hard, because especially as women, we’re always trying to be polite. But even if you just listened and you didn’t like what they said, but let them keep talking, you’re still taking that home. Instead, you can say: “I respect your opinion, I don’t agree, and I don’t want to talk about it.” Or, “You have a lot of opinions, but I am not interested in hearing them, because they’re about me and it’s not helping me.”
It can sound rough, but I’ve really been tapping into it. It’s okay if people don’t agree with you. You don’t have to listen to them, and you can step away and save your energy. Think about it like the locker room—you want your coach, your trainer, the massage therapist. But you don’t want too many other people there, and you get to decide who you let in. If the locker room gets too crowded, you have to close it down so people can’t just walk in whenever they want and say whatever they want about your life.
Celebrate along the way.
When I finished my radiation treatments at Fred Hutchinson Cancer Center, I got to ring the bell—I brought a few friends and went crazy with it. That night, I got more friends together to ring another bell. I was buzzed for days; I was so happy thinking of my friends from so many parts of my life celebrating with me. I want to keep commemorating the little things. People think the big day is their wedding, and that’s it, but there are a lot of other good reasons to party.
I hope to have more to celebrate next year on the track. I am already having a comeback season—my first race back was on November 24. I don’t know where I’ll wind up, but I’m going to put everything into getting back to the world stage and running at the 2025 World Championships in Tokyo.
But I’ll have a different mindset as I see how far I can go. The pressure of the competition and this idea that you’re only worthy when you’re running fast and you’re only good because you’re performing—that’s honestly so toxic. Running is something that I do and I care about for me, not for anyone else. I know my body has been through a lot, and I don’t know where this journey is going to take me. But if I don’t try, I won’t make it, and that’s a guarantee.
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