I.

Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. 2000. The sun bore down on the pavement as Leontien Zijlaard-Van Moorsel rounded the final corner. Her heart pounded as she pressed the pedals beneath her, the onlookers catching each rotation of her blurred orange back wheel. The finish line for the Olympic Cycling Time Trial was in sight.

Leontien was alone. The radio that connected her to her team had malfunctioned, leaving her without updates. The only sounds were the rush of wind and the perpetual whirring of her bike. She didn’t know her position among the others.

She continued to push.

One thing I love about the Olympics, amongst the incredible athletic feats on display, is the stories of those who compete and their trajectories to get to the seconds, minutes, and hours that will assign their fate to the medal stand and legend.

Yet, the battles that define their lives often occur far from the public eye. Leontien’s race in Sydney was the culmination of a different kind of struggle, one that involved no cheering crowds or finish lines but a slow, silent fight for survival. This race was against a competitor she couldn’t see but who threatened to consume her from within.

II.

In Boekel, a small town in North Brabant, Netherlands, Leontien van Moorsel was groomed for greatness. By her early twenties, she had conquered the roads and velodromes of her home country and beyond. She had the cycling game in a choke-hold, winning indoor and outdoor accolades, including the road cycling world championships in 1991 and 1993.

In a country that prides itself on _Doe Normaal_ and “steek je kop niet boven het maaiveld uit,” which translates to “don’t stick your head above the cornfield,” being a young superstar was a curse that came with the blessing of her rise.

A Dutch cycling official observing the Women’s Tour de France climbs suggested that losing a little weight might improve her performance. For an athlete as driven as Leontien, this advice was not just a suggestion but a commandment. The victory in the race that followed validated her efforts.

It’s fascinating how a single piece of advice can catalyze change. In Leontien’s case, what began as a pursuit of perfection in her sport spiraled into an obsession. Why stop what worked?

III.

By 1994, Leontien was no longer the athlete the world had known. Her weight had plummeted to 95 pounds from the 145 pounds she once carried.

The human body is a system that thrives on balance—nutrients, rest, and energy all work harmoniously to maintain health.

Anorexia nervosa is often misunderstood as merely an obsession with thinness, but it is far more complex. It is a paradox of control—an attempt to dominate the body that ultimately leads to unraveling. It’s a disorder that thrives on the illusion of control, while the reality is one of increasing chaos. Without adequate food intake, the body begins consuming itself, starting with fat reserves and moving on to muscle tissue. Bone density decreases, leading to osteoporosis and a heightened risk of fractures. The reproductive system shuts down, often resulting in amenorrhea—the absence of menstruation. Hormonal imbalances wreak havoc on mood and cognition, trapping the individual in a cycle of anxiety and depression that mirrors the physical deterioration. Micronutrients like sodium, potassium, and magnesium become unbalanced, which destroys the environments necessary for organs to thrive, and they eventually fail.

For Leontien, the initial success she gained from earlier advice set into play the pursuit of an unattainable ideal.

When a cell cannot thrive due to destruction, disease, or its current environment, it has the mechanism to bring about its own demise called apoptosis, releasing a cascade of markers that lead to the cell’s destruction from within. Similarly, anorexia embodies the idea of self-destruction. The body wilts away to save itself from the strength of the psychological grip of control and false perception. Despite the physical devastation, Leontien was convinced that she was in control, even as her life was slipping away.

IV.

Michael Zijlaard, a fellow cyclist and training partner, saw the toll that anorexia had taken on her and knew that the path to recovery would be long and arduous. Leontien and Michael would eventually marry, and with his support, she began to rebuild her body and mind. He would not take any excuses from her. He knew what she could do and that she still had it in her. She needed to find it within herself again.

Refeeding—gradually reintroducing food to a starved body—is dangerous. After prolonged starvation, the body’s electrolyte levels are severely imbalanced, as mentioned earlier. A sudden increase in food intake can lead to refeeding syndrome, a potentially fatal shift in fluids and electrolytes that can cause heart failure, seizures, and other critical complications.

Recovery from anorexia is not just about eating again; it’s about rebuilding trust with the body—trust that food will nourish, not harm. It is a slow process of introducing food gradually and reworking the mental relationship between one’s current behavior, the realities of the behavior, and how new behaviors are better. There is also the establishment of a new equilibrium. It’s a delicate balance, where each step must be carefully measured, just like in cycling, where each pedal stroke brings you closer to the finish line but must be paced to avoid injury. For Leontien, refeeding had to be a slow, deliberate process that mirrored her cautious approach to returning to cycling.

As her body regained strength, so too did her spirit. Leontien began taking long, solitary rides. Gradually, these pleasure rides turned into training sessions, and training sessions into competitions. By 1998, she was back on the world stage with renewed purpose.

V.

The 2000 Sydney Olympics were the stage for Leontien’s greatest triumph. In the semifinals of the individual pursuit, she broke the world record and easily won the gold medal in the velodrome [1]. In the road race, she took another gold in a photo finish. She added a silver medal in the points race [2]. She was back. Then came the time trial.

Ahead of her, she saw the figure of another cyclist who had started before her. The sight was disorienting. Had the cyclist suffered a flat tire? With a final surge of power, Leontien overtook her, the orange of her back wheel a blur as she crossed the finish line. She had won the gold medal, besting the next-best time by 37 seconds—a staggering margin.

As the Dutch national anthem played with her atop the podium, she knew she had bested her real opponent, herself, and instead made it a collaborator again.

VI.

Leontien’s solitary struggle on the bike mirrors the internal battle we all face at some point. The malfunctioning radio isn’t just a technical glitch but a symbol of the isolation we feel when fighting our demons. In overcoming anorexia, she reclaimed not just her body but her sense of self. Change is a constant in life, and realizing our lack of control is important to proceed in life. It provides the strength to face and live with uncertainty through creative means. Leontien’s return to cycling was not just a physical comeback; it was a rebirth. This process of destruction and renewal is a fundamental aspect of the human experience, forcing us to confront the deepest parts of ourselves. Life is a series of cycles—rising, falling, and rising again. In this realization, she found her Doe Normaal, the quiet, steady rhythm of a life lived on her terms. A reminder that, in the end, even with all the battles, the real competition is within ourselves.

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[1] The individual pursuit is the race where two riders start on opposite ends of the track and try to catch one another or get a faster time.

[2] In the Points Race, held in the Olympics from 1984 to 2008 and for women from 1996 to 2008, the races are run over 40 km for men and 25 km for women. A sprint is held every ten laps, with 5, 3, 2, and 1 point(s) being awarded to the top four finishers in each sprint. The winner of the race has the most points at the end of the race. In addition to the sprints, riders who lap the main field are awarded an extra 20 points.