Simone Biles Soars One Final Time in Rio, Her Sacrifices Turn to Gold
RIO DE JANEIRO — She took one deep breath and then stepped forward onto the mat. Thousands of cameras flashed like lightning down on the girl whose entire athletic life had been building to this moment.
The floor exercise has always been the signature event for Simone Biles. It's her blank canvas, the place where her artistic and physical brilliance is best expressed.
In June, I attended one of Biles' workout sessions at her gym in Spring, Texas, and she was refining her floor routine. She practiced her famous move—"The Biles"—that she debuted at the 2013 World Championships in Antwerp, Belgium.
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It was astonishing to witness: At the end of tumbling runs, she would rise as high as a basketball rim. She would then execute a double layout flip, with her body fully extended, and a half twist. Over and over, she landed it perfectly. It was an arresting display of athleticism, unlike anything I'd ever seen.
How hard is it to pull off The Biles? Most gymnasts struggle to simply complete a double tuck somersault at the end of their tumbling runs. Biles generates so much altitude that after she pulls off an even harder maneuver (the fully extended double layout), she still has enough time before she returns from orbit to add a half twist.
"I can't really explain how I do it because it's just become natural for me," Biles told me. "It's not like I'm looking around and taking it all in when I'm in the air. It's just the result of a lot of practice. I mean, a lot of practice."
This is what Biles has in common with all the greats: her preparation. My next book is on the Manning family, and Archie taught his boys at a young age that the key to playing quarterback was to know where the defenders were going to run before the ball was snapped. The only way to acquire this knowledge, Archie stressed, was through film study. Peyton would become so obsessive with film study that he would even spend an hour watching quarterback kneel-down plays from the end of games.
Biles is similarly consumed with her sport. At 14, she decided to fully commit to gymnastics. She made the difficult decision to leave public school and get her education at home, which allowed her to increase her training to more than 30 hours a week. She missed out on Friday night football games and proms and homecomings, but her dream of taking flight was more important.
"I never wanted to give up gymnastics," Simone said. "I did miss public school and the chance to be with my friends. That was hard, obviously. But I just couldn't give up what I had started."
Biles also has in her—and don't snicker—a little Nick Saban, whom I featured in my 2014 book, The Storm and the Tide. Saban's coaching philosophy is known as The Process, and it focuses on means rather than end results.
"It's the journey that's important," Saban told me. "You can't worry about what's waiting for you at the end of the day. It's about what you control, every minute of every day. You always have to have a winning attitude and discipline—in practice, conditioning, in the classroom, in everything. It's a process."
Now listen to Biles explain her personal philosophy:
"Gymnastics is a process for me," Biles said. "I practice, practice, practice and then something will just click and then I have the move. It is not always fun and it's not like I can go out to lunch with friends because I have to practice. But it's worth it once you feel that click."
On Tuesday afternoon at Rio's Olympic Center, Biles walked onto the floor in search of that click. She was physically drained—it was her sixth day of competition—and now she was searching for her fifth medal, in the floor exercise event final.
She had stumbled on the balance beam 24 hours earlier, causing her to finish third in that final, but she already had captured three golds—the all-around, the team competition and the vault. She was trying to become the first female gymnast since Ecaterina Szabo of Romania in 1984 to win four golds in a single Games.
Her Brazilian-themed music blared from the arena speakers, and Biles soared into the stratosphere. She flawlessly executed The Biles—it looked like Newton's laws were temporarily suspended—and smiled like she was having the time of her life. The crowd was thunderstruck, gasping and pointing and grabbing their loved ones in joy. This is what seeing Biles in person does to you. It's an emotional experience, witnessing the launching of a human rocket.
After her routine, Biles hugged her coach, Aimee Boorman, who felt a tinge of sadness. She knew she had just seen the end of something, the last time the Rio klieg lights would be shining on the girl she considers a daughter.
Biles' score flashed on the board: 15.966. The crowd erupted, sending a roar that rolled like thunder through the arena. Biles blew a kiss to her parents and sister in the stands.
She was gold again.
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