by Simone Biles
But it wasn’t enough. My score, 14.966, was lower than I’d hoped, probably because my start value on bars wasn’t as high as on my other routines.
“Shake it off,” Aimee told me, because as far as she was concerned, I’d done one of my best bar routines ever.
Martha agreed with her. “The score doesn’t show it,” Martha said, winking at me, “but we know it.”
Still, my lower-than-expected score opened the door for Russia’s Aliya Mustafina to move into first place. Not once since my first Worlds win in 2013 had any competitor’s name been above mine in an all-around meet. Everyone seemed shocked by this turn of events, but I wasn’t really surprised. Aliya is a top-caliber bar specialist, and she’d tied with Maddie Kocian for the bars title at the last Worlds. And that afternoon, she had been spectacular on bars, which had earned a huge score for her. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I still had beam and floor to come, and my start values for both those routines were higher than anyone else’s, with Aly’s close behind. Of course, high start values would mean nothing if my execution wasn’t on point. Every skill had to be flawless.
I was first up on beam in the third rotation. When I completed the two and a half circles of my wolf turn cleanly, I knew I was in the zone. I was connecting all my skills smoothly, with no hesitation between moves. I felt confident, especially when I caught sight of Martha on the sidelines, smiling broadly. Okay, just the dismount left, I thought as I positioned my feet against the chalk mark I’d made on the beam earlier. Mine was the one with the S drawn through it, so there would be no confusion about where to start my final double-twisting double tuck, the hardest dismount in the world. As I was twirling through air, I already knew I was going to stick the landing—bam!
The whole arena erupted in wild applause as I lifted my chest and raised my arms high. Relief flooded through me as it always does once my beam set is over. I jumped down from the mat and into Aimee’s arms. I tried not to stress as I waited for the score. I knew I’d done everything I could up there, and now it was up to the judges. Suddenly, the audience broke into a fresh round of cheers. I looked up and saw the verdict: 15.433. I’d retaken the lead.
Now only one event was left—the one in which I was the most confident. I’d always loved the excitement and drama of tumbling on floor. But as naturally as the skills came to me, this was the Olympics, and I didn’t want to take anything for granted. I mean, what if I tripped going into a leap or something silly like that? What if I took off with too much power and stepped out of bounds? All of this was going through my head as I walked onto the floor. I was the last gymnast to perform, and though I didn’t know it at the time, I only needed 13.833 to win. I could have fallen once, even twice, and still made that score, but I wanted to do my very best. If I took home gold, I didn’t want anyone to doubt that I deserved it, so I needed to go out there and earn it. And that’s what I did. As my samba music filled the arena, the crowd began to clap in time with the beat. Energized, I flipped and somersaulted, taking in the whole thrilling 360-degree view of the arena from high in the air. As I came down on the mat on my final tumbling pass, I think I was the happiest athlete in Rio. And when my score appeared, it was the highest of the competition—15.933. I had done it! Gold!
Aly was right behind me with the silver, and Aliya Mustafina had taken the bronze. Aly, Aimee, and I hugged each other ecstatically, tears of joy spilling out from our lower lids. Then Aly pushed me in the direction of the stage. “Go! Go!” she said, “Get up there!” In a daze, I went back out on the floor, waving at the applauding crowd. But it didn’t feel right being up there without Aly, so I motioned for her to come up on stage with me. We had done the whole competition together, and now we would finish it together, joining our hands and lifting them high in a victory salute to the crowd. “We’re basically like sisters,” Aly told me that night. “We’ll have this moment forever.”
Much later, I found out that as soon as the all-around rankings appeared on the Jumbotron, television cameras zoomed in on my mother and sister up in the stands, sobbing their hearts out. The cameras lingered on my family as my father wrapped his arms around my mom, kissed her on the lips, and rested his head on hers. What the cameras didn’t show was that behind his glasses, my father’s eyes were glistening too.
Each day of our competition in Rio went much the same way. Our team hardly made a mistake. And when all the contests had been held, all the events finals completed, I had earned two more gold medals for vault and floor, and a bronze on beam. Laurie turned in an impressive performance to take silver on beam—I was so proud of my roommate. Aly had also won silver on floor, and Maddie had taken silver on bars, making us the most decorated American Olympic gymnastics team. My win on vault in particular meant a lot to me. I’d never earned gold on vault in a world competition—until now. I learned afterward that I’d made history by becoming the first American woman ever to win gold in that event at the Olympics.
My beam performance in the event final wasn’t quite as golden: I’d bobbled on my front tuck and would have fallen all the way off the beam if I hadn’t grabbed it with both hands. That knocked my score down by a full point. I was sure that put me out of medal contention, but it turned out that my execution on the rest of the routine, combined with the high level of difficulty, was enough to push me into third place. Most commentators assumed that getting bronze on beam would devastate me, but in fact, I was over the moon. Of course, I wished I’d been able to get through the entire routine without a mistake, but who falls on beam at the Olympics and still wins a medal? It’s rare. Standing next to Laurie and first-place winner Sanne Wevers of the Netherlands during the medal ceremony, I was grinning every bit as hard as if I’d just won gold.
On my last day of competition, when I went out to perform my routine for the floor exercise final, the audience was cheering and shouting wildly for me. The racket was insane. I felt so thankful to every person in that arena for the way they’d supported all the gymnasts throughout the Games.
The Brazilians were easily the most generous audience we've ever had, and their enthusiasm meant even more to us because we were not in our own country, yet they cheered for us like we were the home team. That loud audience was part of the reason I was feeling a little sad after my floor routine. When the announcer called my name and the official placed the medal around my neck, it was bittersweet. At first, I had felt a rush of relief that everything had gone even better than I’d dared hope. I’d nailed every tumbling pass, spinning high in the air. And I’d stuck all my landings, capping off my Olympic experience with yet another gold. But I’d been waiting my entire life for a chance to go to the Olympics, and just like that, the experience was already behind me. I remember thinking, I’m a little bit tired now, and I could feel the stress melting away. But underneath it all, I felt a little tinge of sorrow, because I realized that everything I’d just experienced was now over.
Our team moved out of the Olympic Village a couple of days later and checked into the Grand Hyatt hotel. Most of my extended family had already left Rio, but my parents and Adria were still there. I couldn’t wait to see them, but I only got to hug and catch up with them for a half hour, because the team had a schedule packed with press interviews, TV appearances, and photo shoots. Aly, Maddie, and I did go to the beach for a few hours, and that was fun, but mostly we were caught up in a media whirlwind.
Not that I’m complaining, because in the middle of that whirlwind, another impossible dream of mine actually came true. Everyone who knows me knows about my crazy crush on the twenty-nine-year-old actor Zac Efron. I even had a life-sized cardboard cutout of him back home in Texas. I loved his movies, but mostly, I thought he was cute, and I’d heard that he’s really a good person. Well, right after my event final in floor, my teammates and I were scheduled to do a taping for the TODAY Show. We’d gotten to know one of the hosts, Hoda Kotb, when she interviewed us after the team final, and she was a lot of fun. She knew all about my crush on
Zac Efron, and she’d even threatened to bring him to Rio.
“I’m going to need a defibrillator,” I’d joked, because of course, I thought she was just teasing me. Little did we know that her producers had flown Zac to Rio after the floor exercise final to surprise us. When he walked out on set wearing a navy blue USA sweatshirt and green khaki shorts, I thought I was going to pass out. Seriously. We all started screaming, and Laurie went to hug him right away. I actually ducked behind Aly, hiding because I suddenly felt so shy.
Zac was as warm and welcoming as I’d always heard that he was. “Hey, I’m the one with the butterflies,” he said as he hugged us one by one. Then, when I finally came out from behind Aly, he lifted me right up onto his hip and planted a big kiss on my cheek. I almost died. I was giggling so hard, all I could think was, This can’t be real life. This is too perfect to be real. Zac Efron was even more gorgeous in person and way nicer than I imagined. He told us, “When I found out you guys were fans, I was like, what am I doing sitting here on the couch? I have to come see you. I have to come hang out and support you guys, because you’re America’s true heroes right now.”
As if meeting Zac Efron wasn’t enough, I’d also received supportive messages from Kim Kardashian, Jake Miller, Samuel L. Jackson, Taylor Swift, and even Hillary Clinton. And after I led the American delegation into the Maracanã Stadium for the closing ceremony, President Barack Obama and Mrs. Obama also tweeted me:
Couldn't be prouder of #TeamUSA. Your determination and passion inspired so many of us. You carried that flag high tonight, @Simone_Biles!
Someone said later, “Simone Biles is having the best week of her entire life.” I don’t know who said that, but with Zac Efron and President and Mrs. Obama and so many others congratulating us on our team’s Olympic victories, I’d have to say that statement was entirely true.
No one was more surprised than I was when my agent gave me the news that Team USA—all the athletes in all the sports we’d competed in over the past seventeen days—had voted for me to carry the American flag at the closing ceremony. I hadn’t even known I was in the running. Me! All four-foot-eight-inches of me had been chosen to carry a nine-foot-tall flag! I didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified. Michael Phelps had carried the flag during the opening ceremony, but he was so much taller than I was. I knew I was strong, but that flag had looked ginormous and hard to hold. Would I be able to manage it? I knew that being selected by my peers for this final Olympic assignment was the highest honor, but I was secretly worried that I’d embarrass my country.
I was relieved that the flagpole wasn’t as heavy as it looked, and I carried it easily, despite the fact that the night was windy and rainy. The Americans created gridlock at the entrance to Maracanã Stadium, as one athlete after another bent to take selfies with me holding that giant flag. Finally, our delegation paraded onto the field with me leading the way, a small figure in white shorts and white shirt, barely visible under the huge banner of our country. At some point during the ceremony, a feeling of peace settled over me. I had represented my country well. I had not wasted the talents and opportunities God gave me, and I’d tried to be, as my mom put it, the best Simone I could be.
That night as I held the American flag steady, I saw that everything I had been through, all the sacrifices my family and I had made to get to this moment, had been worth it. I wouldn't have changed any of it. Even if things hadn’t gone my way, I still wouldn’t have wished that a single moment would be different. Every challenge I’d ever faced had made me stronger and more determined. When I’d failed to make the national team five years before, it had forced me to commit myself to becoming a better gymnast. And as hard as it had been to give up my dream of attending my high school prom with my friends, the decision to be homeschooled had freed me to embrace an even greater possibility—of one day standing on an Olympic gold medal podium with my teammates. Who knew that the tiny girl with the big muscles jumping on a backyard trampoline would one day hold an American flag twice her size on a rainy night in Rio while the whole world looked on?
I could hardly wait to see where my life would take me next, what new goals I would set for myself, what dreams I would hold on to. But all of that was still to come. Now, in the carnival-like atmosphere of the Maracanã Stadium, marching with athletes from all over the globe, I knew that somewhere high up in the stands my parents and my sister were sharing this moment with me. As incredible as my Olympic journey had been, my greatest gift had been the chance to bring joy to those who love me most—my family. More than all of the gold medals in the world, I’d wanted to make them proud. After all, it was Mom and Dad who’d first given me the courage to dream such a big dream and to soar higher than I’d ever imagined I could. They’d known all along that I had wings. They’d just been waiting for me to spread them.
Below is an eBook exclusive bonus story from Simone Biles!
Starstruck in Olympic Village
Before the “best week of my life ever” happened during the Rio Olympics—when I heard from President Obama and Mrs. Obama and met Zac Efron—my teammates and I had so many cool experiences in the Olympic Village. I had imagined what it’d be like to meet famous athletes, so I was super excited about the opportunity—and I didn’t want to miss out.
The tricky thing was Marta Karolyi had strict rules, for understandable reasons, about where the gymnastics team could go and what we could do before the competition; she pretty much limited us to visiting the cafeteria and the athlete lounge on the first floor. But all the American athletes were housed in the USA Olympic House, and it was hard not to be excited about meeting my fellow teammates! I snuck upstairs once to the floor where some of the swimmers were staying. I knew Nathan Adrian was up there because we work with the same agent.
I knocked on his door.
“Hey, Nathan, how are you? Do you have any pins to trade?” I asked. It’s a tradition to trade pins with athletes from other countries, and I had run out of them already. Nathan handed me some and then said, “Come meet Michael!” As in the Michael Phelps! I almost died.
We walked across the hall to where Michael and swimmer Conor Dwyer were sharing a room. They were sitting on their couch and stood up to say hi. That’s when I noticed how very tall Michael is: six feet four.
“Hi, I’m Simone!”
“Wow, you’re short!” he replied.
I just started laughing. Aimee took a photo of us and posted it on Twitter. It’s hilarious to see us standing next to each other, since I barely come up to his armpit. An even funnier picture is the one I got with me standing back-to-back with volleyball player David Lee—he’s 6 feet 8.
Fortunately, the female swimmers I met weren’t nearly as intimidating. I even got to meet the other Simone. Simone Manuel. My team and I were hanging out in the athlete lounge on the first floor, watching the opening ceremonies on two huge TVs, when I heard someone say, “Hey, Simone.” I turned to see who had called my name, but they were talking to Simone Manuel, who had just walked in.
I got up and said, “It’s nice to meet you,” and gave her a hug. Then we sat on the floor and hung out, talking about training and school and boys. We got along so well; I think because we’re pretty similar—our hometowns are in Texas and we like - a lot of the same things. It was awesome to meet her. She went on to win four medals in Rio and make history as the first black female swimmer to win an Olympic medal in an individual event.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I didn’t make it all the way to Rio on my own; my family, friends, and loved ones have taken this journey with me. I’m very grateful to have the world’s greatest cheering section in my life, and each one has had a part in helping me strive for my dreams. So many people have given me their love and encouragement, and here are just a few that I’d like to thank publicly:
My parents: Thank you, Mom and Dad, for putting up with me on a daily basis. I know it isn’t easy! And thank you for sacrificing so much of your time for me to do what I love.
Without you, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I love you both more than you can imagine.
Adria, oh, Adria, where to start: Thank you for being the craziest—and for always making me laugh when I don’t want to smile. I love you, sister.
Ron and Adam: Thank you for always giving me the best life advice and for keeping my spirits high. You guys really are the best brothers; no one can compare. I love you guys!
Paul and Judy: Thank you for being the greatest godparents ever. I was truly blessed with the best. I love you both.
Aunt Corrine: Thank you for being the one I can go to when my mom says no. Kidding, but thank you for treating me like your third daughter (sorry, Corleigh and Alyssa!). You always have the best words of encouragement and advice, and you always bring the party no matter where we go, which I love!
Uncle Leighton: Thank you for creating the best video montages and sharing them at all the family gatherings.
Uncle Barnes: Thank you for all the good luck and congrats texts before and after all of my competitions. They’re the best!
Aunt Margaret, Aunt Harriet, Aunt Jennifer, Uncle Silas, Uncle Warren, and every one of my relatives: I’m so thankful that I have such a big and loving family! You have made a difference in my life just by your encouragement and presence over the years.
Alyssa and Corleigh: I love you both. Thanks for being the most supportive, loving cousins I could ever ask for!
