What We Cannot Do — and What We Witness: Thank you, Alysa Liu

If you haven't seen it already, read no more. Stop and hit play on Alysa Liu's gold medal performance at the 2026 Winter Olympics. If you have, I'd love to hear your reaction —and I'd like to share mine...

I first learned of Alysa Liu’s fabulous feat thanks to my dad. He asked if I had seen the Bay Area’s own Olympic gold medalist. I love that an 85-year-old man — a diehard Niners fan who finds a way to watch football in the preseason, regular season, and postseason — was completely taken by figure skating. He even affirmed her musical choice, noting that he has always thought Donna Summer had an incredible voice. That song underscored the performance of a lifetime. 

The first time I saw it, I had to process all that I had heard with what was unfolding on the ice. I was aware of Liu's remarkable comeback; she all but left the sport in 2022 after a sixth place finish in the Beijing Winter Olympics. Without the physical and mental demands of competitive ice skating, Liu found joy and energy, contentment and restorative laughter through time with her brother, playing video games and singing karaoke. Enrolling at UCLA, she was loving Bruin life. And then the passion was reignited.

I never feel as though I give women's' sports enough air time in Sports and Spirituality. Thankfully, the Olympic Games — both summer and winter — provide a natural opportunity to highlight the stories of extraordinary female athletes. Consequently, we celebrated the accomplishments of the women’s (and men’s) hockey team and studied the profiles of the Blade Angels. We debated whether Lindsey Vonn was inspirational or reckless and, together, explored the excitement and support that surrounded Alysa Liu’s performance.

I knew how I wanted to introduce her story. As a Bay Area native, I couldn't help but celebrate our own. Liu grew up in Richmond and went to high school in Oakland. My seniors added chapters and verse,  but my commentary stayed the same. Yes, I got a little choked up—that happens to me when I watch incredible sports moments. Yes, I said "Wow. amazing" and shook my head in disbelief. And, I concluded my remarks with one of my favorite comments. I said, "So that's an example of things I can say with complete confidence that I will never do in my lifetime." My seniors understood.

There are things we choose not to do in this lifetime. I can safely say I have chosen not to climb Mt. Everest, snort cocaine, cheer for USC, or engage certain topics in polite conversation.

But there are other things that — given the right circumstances, ability, and resources — I would love to do… and simply can’t. I will never tour with the E Street Band (welcome back, Tom Morello!), SCUBA dive in the Blue Hole, run the Boston Marathon, or play Augusta National (hope springs eternal, but I’ve done the math on that one).

Alysa Liu represents both kinds of limits — the ones we accept and the ones we transcend.

Physically, I cannot do what she does on the ice. As much as I might love to land a triple axel, it simply isn’t going to happen. And given that I can barely touch my toes, the idea of lifting my leg over my head and holding the blade with grace is downright unthinkable. It is however, simply marvelous. 

One can only marvel at her talent, energy, athleticism and even her enthusiasm. But in light of her story, it's important to know that what we saw was the fruit of a recess from the sport. We were all witnesses to an athlete who had been to the other side and came back. She skated with a joy and a freedom that spoke for itself. 

My friend Alex said it best, 

Most impressive to me is her sport is teeming with pressure. I sometimes marvel at their mental strength as much as any physical acts. Yet she wore that as confidently as her unique hairstyle. But it wasn’t youthful naivety. It was the result of walking away from the sport, dealing with her mental health, and then not returning until she was confident she had done so. THAT is the biggest thing I hope everyone, athletes and non-athletes alike, take from her. 

Some things in this life are chosen. Many are unchosen. Liu was endowed with the ability to skate on ice in a way that awakens awe. For a time, she chose not to — and we understand why. But it is hard not to give thanks — as an American, as a sports fan, and as someone who believes gifts are meant to be shared — that she returned.

Photo Credits
Jumping