After all the trauma and doubt and suffocating expectations, after all the physical and emotional effort it took to return, Biles deserves to flaunt the latest accomplishment of her sterling career. On a tense Thursday night inside Bercy Arena, Biles became the first American gymnast to win two all-around Olympic gold medals, adding more of her fingerprints to the claim that she’s the best the sport has ever seen. She didn’t ice out that pendant because she has an affinity for livestock. She’s embracing that she may be the GOAT, the popular sports acronym for Greatest Of All Time.
Her case for that title no longer depends on the ease with which she wins. She has the fight of a champion, too. If her courage over the last three years wasn’t convincing enough, she showed it again on the biggest stage, outlasting silver medalist Rebeca Andrade in a competition that was draining even to watch.
“I was probably praying to every single god out there,” Biles said.
During the second rotation, she hindered her chances to win gold with a near-disastrous showing on the uneven bars, responded on the balance beam and turned celestial, as usual, during the floor routine. With Andrade as a worthy challenger, Biles had to overcome a deficit. In the end, her 59.131 score was 1.199 points better than Andrade. By the incomparable Biles standard, the margin was slim. During the 2016 Olympics, she won the all-around by more than two points.
“I was stressing,” Biles said of the night.
Said U.S. teammate Sunisa Lee, who also battled impressively to earn the bronze: “I had never seen you that stressed in my life.”
Trailing Andrade halfway through the night, Biles and Lee tried to calculate the deficit.
“I don’t even know how to do math in my head,” Lee said.
“Me, either,” Biles told her.
Perhaps it would have been too much drama for Biles if she hadn’t already been through hell. At the Tokyo Games three years ago, she had to withdraw from this competition. Her mental health had waned. She remembers being so focused on avoiding an injury that she neglected her mind. She carried too much into Tokyo, including the physical and emotional abuse of rising through the USA Gymnastics system. Still, she wanted to keep lifting the program. But when she experienced the “twisties” and couldn’t control her body in midair, she had to pause her dominant career and explain to the world that she is human.
In showing vulnerability, she further erased the stigma about mental health problems and opened the way for a healthier conversation about how to strive in sports. But at the time, she figured that would be the way her career ended.
“I never thought I’d be on a world stage again competing,” Biles said.
Greatness without setback is greatness unknown. The most admirable champions aren’t defined by everlasting dominance. As much as we love a winner, we prefer to see the best challenged. We want to see evolution. We want to see strain. We want to see them overcome formidable opponents and search within themselves for something less obvious than their talent. To resonate the way Biles has, it takes more than supernatural athletic ability. Because of her struggles, she became relatable and unfathomable. She spends all that time flipping in the air, but the truest indicator of her transcendence came when we realized that her feet still touch the ground. She doesn’t have powers. She’s powerful.
“For me, it’s just learning not to give up,” Biles said.
She shares that she has been in therapy “religiously” every Thursday for the past three years. Before she made history, she spoke to her therapist at 7 a.m. to start the day. When something bad ensnares the mind, it can feel impossible to shake loose, but once you are free, look at the heights you can reach.
Biles didn’t soar above all this time. It felt more like she soared with all, like she took everyone along for the thrill. The arena pulsated as she tried to capture the all-around gold again. It was different from any atmosphere I can remember. When she posted just the 16th-best score on the uneven bars, it seemed that an entire Zip code stressed. Not everyone wanted Biles to win, but they were invested in her succeeding. It was a spiritual experience.
A sport of ephemeral brilliance, gymnastics doesn’t get Olympic competitions like this. It’s the first time that two all-around Olympic champions — Biles in 2016, Lee in 2021 — had competed against each other. Andrade won silver in the all-around three years ago. The competition reflected their experience. They made for one royal medal stand.
“I think I have to bring out the big guns this time,” Biles thought to herself before the meet.
She decided to begin with her most difficult vault, the Yurchenko double pike, after vacillating. She made the right decision. If she had played it safer, her margin for error would have been microscopic the rest of the night. Andrade had a terrific vault, scoring 15.100. Biles went to the rafters and stayed on her feet, posting a 15.766. That initial decision and solid execution kept Biles from falling into a deeper hole after the uneven bars humbled her.
“I’ve never had an athlete that close, so it definitely put me on my toes,” Biles said of Andrade. “It brought out the best athlete in myself. So I’m excited and proud to compete with her, but I’m getting uncomfortable, guys! I don’t like that feeling.”
She was startled, but she refocused. She stayed in the moment. She didn’t fixate on reclaiming her status with the all-around title. Self-care doesn’t require redemption. When the United States captured the team gold, the gymnasts used the concept of redemption, but for Biles, this was about completing her third Olympic act. She needed to do it for herself, no one else.
As she celebrated, her joy didn’t come from the crowd’s adoration or the enhancement of fame. It wasn’t because she added more cement to her legacy or proved her resilience. She wanted to make one simple statement: She loves herself — again, or maybe for the first time, or definitely without victorious conditions attached. You see it in everything she does. You see it in everything she wears.
“My goat necklace is just kind of an ode,” said Biles, who now has six golds and nine total medals in her Olympic career. “People love it. Some people hate it. So it’s like the best of both worlds.”
Later, she expressed disbelief at the GOAT suggestion because, “I just still think I’m Simone Biles from Spring, Texas, that loves to flip.”
That giddy girl was a phenom.
This triumphant woman is her own kind of wonder.
