Olympics
As the Olympic hymn rang out in Verona and the flag was bundled up and passed to the French organizers for 2030, the world bid farewell to the Winter Games for another four years. Athletes have begun returning home—or some have already returned home, especially those with families. The first weeks after the Games will be filled with interviews, sponsor appearances, and celebration. They will bask in the Olympic afterglow.
But soon, the spotlight dims, the adrenaline fades, and for many, something much quieter sets in: post-Olympic depression. “Every athlete can struggle with the post-Olympic hangover,” U.S. Olympic snowboard cross bronze medalist Alex Deibold says. “You’ve spent four years working toward this one goal. Then it’s over. And you’re left asking: What now?”
Deibold knows the terrain well. The Vermont native spent nearly two decades on the U.S. Snowboard Team. After narrowly missing Olympic selection in 2010, he traveled to the Games anyway as a wax technician and alternate, determined to stay close to his dream. His perseverance paid off when he qualified for the 2014 Sochi Olympics, winning bronze in snowboard cross. He missed out on the 2018 qualification but later qualified again for Beijing in 2022; however, he missed out due to an injury.
Yet his first depressive episode hit after his first success. “My first depression happened when I won a bronze medal in 2014,” Deibold says. “I climbed a mountain, I won a bronze medal, and I reached the top—and there is only one way from there. And that is down.” With the Olympics only held every four years, Deibold explains how jarring it is when the spotlight suddenly shifts and how he struggled to find a new goal and a new peak.
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Post-Olympic depression can affect any athlete, regardless of whether they have hit the peak and are coming down or are simply facing another four-year cycle. The attention these athletes face—a camera following their every move for weeks, every breath televised and scrutinized —coupled with the excitement and adrenaline rush of being at the Olympics, invariably leaves young athletes particularly prone to falling into a hole. Yet young, inexperienced athletes are not the only ones facing the slump. For athletes announcing retirement, like slalom skier Dave Ryding or AJ Ginnis, the challenge can be existential. Deibold describes it as follows: “You spend your entire athletic career thinking who you are as a human and who you are as an athlete are the same person,” he says. “Then suddenly they’re not.”
Deibold himself wrestled with retirement. He qualified for the 2022 Games but was hospitalized and ultimately unable to compete. “I did not want my last race to end with me being taken away in a helicopter,” he says. He returned to compete again in 2023 to mentally close the chapter. “Almost three years retired now, and there are still days that are hard,” he admits. “There are still days when I go, ‘Do I still got it?’”
What he misses most is not just the adrenaline. “I miss feeling important. I miss being the best in the world at something. I was one of the best humans on the planet in my skill set. I was ranked in the top 10 for several years. Right now, I’m a program director. Am I a top-10 program director in the world? Probably not. It doesn’t feel like it.”
That identity shift—from elite performer to ordinary professional—can be jarring. Studies have shown that retired elite athletes face significantly higher rates of anxiety, depression, cognitive impairment, and substance abuse than the general population. Elite athletes spend years equating who they are with what they do. Untangling the two can be destabilizing.
The way you go out is another issue fraught with issues. “In athletics, you understand you have a finite timeline,” Deibold says. “You want to write the end of your own story.” He points to Australian snowboarder Scotty James, who entered the 2026 Games aiming for gold but finished with silver. “I’m a patriotic American, but in the men’s halfpipe, I wanted Scotty James to win,” Deibold admits unashamedly. “I watched Scotty James, and I know that he is the best snowboarder in the world, and he has the ability to win, and he has the runs and the difficulty and all those things. So to come up and win another silver medal…,” he trails off. He is wondering what James will do with a little time, because he knows the pressure that gets put on older athletes—Scotty is 31 now, and he knows the questions the press asks of athletes over 30. “That’s always the question that they ask older athletes: ‘What’s next for you?’—it is cruel.” He understands James disappointment. “Winning a silver medal is amazing, but when you expect to win…,” he trails off.
Deibold knows that the emotional weight of falling short of your goal can linger for a long time. He fought hard for his Olympic comeback in 2022, but an injury ended his story in a way he hadn’t planned. Deibold credits much of his post-career stability to Pro Athlete Community (PAC), an organization that supports current and former elite athletes navigating transition. ”I watched the Olympics on TV,” Deibold explains. “I watched my peers competing—and I miss it,” he adds. “I miss the group of humans who have lived through what I have lived through. They understand what it means when you say you’re having a shit day. Some people I have met in PAC—football players—they feel exactly the same feelings. Who am I as a human versus who am I as an athlete?”
PAC is a private membership community built for pro athletes that combines peer-based mental health support with practical career development. PAC currently has more than 2,000 members and continuously invests in its members for the long term by offering workshops, mentorship, networking opportunities, and structured “immersion weeks” where athletes can explore career options from real estate to public speaking. “The value I find at PAC, especially as a man, is that it’s a place where you can go and be vulnerable,” Deibold says. “You will see grown men cry.” The next immersion week will be held in Phoenix, Arizona, from March 30 to April 2.
The peer element is critical. “There is no one who quite understands it like other athletes,” he says. “Some of the football players I met there feel all the exact same feelings. Who am I as a human versus who am I as an athlete?” Beyond emotional support, PAC provides tangible career pathways —even setting up job interviews. “A lot of the time, as an athlete, you get told, ‘When you retire, call me,’ and then they don’t get back to you,” Deibold says. “PAC puts their money where their mouth is.” Through the mentorship at PAC, he learned to identify transferable skills—grit, discipline, communication—that extend beyond sport.
But even for athletes who have reached everything in snow sports: the Olympic gold, the World Cup victories, podiums, and crystal globes, retirement can hit hard—especially when it’s not on your own terms. “Lindsey Vonn is an example of an athlete who has all the money in the world,” Deibold admits that some might be wondering why she is still going, but for him, it is clear. “Lindsey is an example of: she is still doing it because she loves it and because she can.” And Lindsey Vonn did—she won two races and podiumed in several others, putting her currently in the lead of the downhill standings and qualifying for her fifth Olympics. “Anyone who faults her for that does it out of jealousy and out of envy. I think what she has done is so inspiring and so incredible.”
However, when the Olympic flame goes dark, public attention quickly moves on for most. For athletes, the transition is slower and often lonelier. “I think a lot of these athletes are up on pedestals,” Deibold says. “They’re cool. They’re celebrated. But after the closing ceremony, it’s, ‘What’s next?’”
His advice is simple: “Check in on those humans. Ask them how they’re doing. They are still amazing athletes when the whole world isn’t watching. They are still amazing human beings when their TikToks aren’t going viral.” Because when the Olympic flame is extinguished, the real, hard, quiet work outside the limelight begins.
Scott Tinley wrote a book about this: Racing the Sunset.
Thank you, good recommendation