Sasha Cohen Skater: A Journey Beyond Olympic Glory
Twenty years ago, I stood on the Olympic podium in Turin, Italy. Now, returning as a spectator, watching the figure skating events evokes a powerful mix of nostalgia and relief. It’s a chance to revisit the exhilarating highs and challenging lows of my Olympic experience, and to reflect on the choices I made to chase that dream.
The Early Years: A Passion Ignited
I first fell in love with the sensation of gliding across the ice at the age of seven. The following decade was a whirlwind of joyful growth, mastering increasingly difficult jumps, and achieving early competitive success. Those early mornings in cold, damp ice rinks weren’t a chore; they were filled with possibility and promise. I was utterly captivated by skating and resented anything that kept me away from the ice.
Challenges and Resilience
However, the path wasn’t without its obstacles. At just twelve years old, a collision with another skater resulted in a severe calf laceration, forcing me to take months off. Then, at fifteen, a fractured lower back sidelined me for another three months. These setbacks, rather than diminishing my resolve, only strengthened my commitment to qualifying for the 2002 Olympic Games in Salt Lake City.
While I made the team, finishing in a disappointing fourth place fueled my determination to return in 2006 and redeem myself. I relocated across the country to train with a renowned coach known for developing Olympic champions, dedicating myself entirely to the sport. This dedication paid off, and I enjoyed my most successful year, winning almost every competition I entered.
The Weight of Expectation
The two years leading up to the 2006 Olympics were incredibly stressful. The joy began to fade, replaced by mounting pressure. 2004 was particularly brutal; I withdrew from a season of competitions, struggling with mental health challenges and anxiety, fueled by the fear that my best days were behind me. Just four years earlier, making the Olympic team at seventeen felt like the beginning of endless possibilities. But by 2006, I felt the weight of expectation – my own and my country’s – bearing down on me. It was likely my last chance at Olympic gold.
Injuries further complicated my training leading up to the Games. An Olympic career is a relentless pursuit of perfection, often thwarted by the limitations of the human body. I knew that even one mistake could cost me the gold, and two would likely knock me off the podium. In the end, I stumbled, but so did my competitors. I took home the silver.
Beyond the Podium: Life After Skating
The Olympics are both the most glorious and, arguably, the most agonizing of human endeavors. With the benefit of time, I’m acutely aware of the hidden costs, the dark side we often overlook. The world judges athletes harshly, focusing on medal counts and outcomes while often ignoring the individual struggles and tribulations. In 2006, I felt utterly alone on the world stage, blaming only myself for my mistakes.
Walking away from the sport was even harder than falling. After two decades of dedication, hanging up my skates left me profoundly disoriented. The sense of self I had built through years of hard work on the ice quickly began to unravel. Yet, in those transcendent moments, lost in the music and feeling the energy of the audience, I experienced a joy unlike any other. My short program in Turin remains one of those cherished memories.
This all unfolded while most young adults were navigating college, experiencing independence, forging lifelong friendships, and exploring career paths. Their mistakes weren’t scrutinized by the public, and their biggest stress was often passing final exams. A part of me wishes I had experienced those same rites of passage.
Despite it all, looking back, I would absolutely do it all over again. Medaling at the Olympics was the realization of a lifelong dream, a commitment I pursued with a dedication few can truly understand. Aside from having children, it was the most profound and meaningful part of my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
A New Chapter
Today, my world revolves around my two young children – constantly testing boundaries and discovering who they are. I want them to understand that achieving great things requires hard work, and to experience the triumph of overcoming their fears. However, I also recognize that a life defined by perfection in a single moment isn’t for everyone. It’s a deeply personal and consequential choice. And I would never want them to shy away from pursuing their dreams because the cost of admission seems too high.
Sasha Cohen is the 2006 Olympic silver medalist, 2006 U.S. Champion, 2003 Grand-Prix Final Champion, and a three-time World medalist. Following her competitive career, she graduated from Columbia University’s General Studies and now works as a financial analyst.
Learn more about Sasha Cohen’s career and life on Team USA’s website.
