Holding Two Truths - Reflections on Lindsey Vonn's Choice to Compete

Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot on Lindsey Vonn's choice to ski in the Olympics with a ruptured ACL.

On one hand, it’s impossible not to feel awe. The determination, mental toughness, grit, and years of disciplined hard work required to even arrive at that starting gate are extraordinary. To compete at the Olympic level at age 41 and while injured speaks to a depth of resilience that few of us will ever fully understand. That kind of commitment is admirable.

And at the same time, another truth exists alongside it.

Lindsey Vonn would be just as admirable if she had chosen not to participate in this year's olympics.

As I reflect on the media attention she's received, I worry about the impact some of this messaging may have on aspiring athletes and many of my clients who struggle to allow themselves rest, event when injured.  I find myself in this "in-between" space of having immense respect for this elite athlete's choice, while also questioning the broader message it sends, especially to people who hold themselves to an unrealistic standard around athletic performance. 

What often gets lost in these conversations is agency. This was an individual choice made by an athlete with decades of experience, access to world-class medical care, and a deep understanding of her own body. She wasn’t obligated to prove anything. Her legacy was already secure. It was a choice because in her own words she "loves this sport" and she knew this was her last opportunity to compete at the olympics.

Choosing to compete does not make her “stronger” than if she had chosen rest. It simply makes her human — someone weighing risk, meaning, timing, and personal values.

For many athletes, the Olympics represent a once-in-a-lifetime or once-more-in-a-career moment. Vonn's skiing career has earned her five olympic competitions!  This wasn’t a regular World Cup race or a mid-season event. This was likely a final, deeply symbolic chapter — a last hurrah on the biggest stage possible before full retirement. It was a beautiful way to honor her late coach, Erich Sailer who passed in September 2025. Context matters.

The Ripple Effect on Exercise Culture

Where my reflection deepens — and where some discomfort lives — is in how moments like this can land for people with complicated or harmful relationships with exercise.

For someone struggling with overexercising, injury denial, or feeling morally “weak” for resting, stories like this can unintentionally reinforce a dangerous narrative:
“If she can do it injured, why can’t I?”
“Pushing through pain is what strong people do.”
“Rest means quitting.”

But elite sport is not a template for everyday health.

Lindsey Vonn’s body, resources, career timeline, and medical oversight are not comparable to those of recreational exercisers, people healing from injuries, or individuals working to rebuild trust with their bodies. Applying elite-athlete logic to non-elite bodies is one of the fastest paths to burnout and chronic injury.

A Crucial Distinction

It’s also important to name what this moment is not.

This is not evidence that exercising on a ruptured ACL is generally safe, advisable, or sustainable. If this weren’t the Olympics — if it weren’t potentially her final appearance on this stage — it’s highly likely that rest and healing would have been the priority.

And just as importantly, it’s likely that once this chapter closes, she will take ample time to heal. This moment doesn’t negate the value of recovery; it exists as a rare exception, not a rule.

Admiration Without Imitation

I think we can admire this moment without internalizing it as instruction.

We can respect her grit without turning it into a measuring stick for our own worth. We can be inspired by commitment while still honoring that, for most of us, the bravest and healthiest choice is often stepping back not pushing through.

Holding two truths at once is uncomfortable, but necessary:

• Lindsey Vonn’s choice is admirable.

• Choosing rest, protection, and healing is equally admirable.

And maybe the most important takeaway isn’t about skiing through injury at all — but about remembering that strength looks different depending on the body, the season, and the stakes.