One moment, you’re living out your childhood dreams, performing for thousands of spectators, flirting with national hero status, hobnobbing with the world’s best athletes, eating endless free food, taking questions from journalists fixated on your every move.
The next moment, you’re not.
This, in a nutshell, is the whiplash of the average Olympian. It is the head trip that athletes navigate in the aftermath of any Winter or Summer Games and the reason so many have begun proactively strategizing for the emotional roller coaster awaiting them when the quadrennial spotlight fades.
“You work for years for something, and then it just goes by so quick,” said Emery Lehman, an American speedskater who competed at his fourth Olympics at the Milan-Cortina Games, which end on Sunday. “You go home, and it’s back to the real world.”
Athletes call it the post-Olympic blues or the Olympic comedown. It is widespread but its form varies, from minor rushes of anxiety to debilitating depression.
“We’ve been calling it the ‘post-Games feels,’” said Jess Bartley, the senior director of psychological services for the United States Olympic and Paralympic Committee. “I don’t know if we can fix it or change it. It’s all about helping athletes better understand it.”
Olympians generally have become more outspoken about the mental side of competition and the struggles they face away from the public eye.
The American swimmer Michael Phelps, who won a record 28 Olympic medals, helped set the conversation in motion in recent years by talking about the intense depression he faced at the conclusion of each cycle — a sign that the blues could afflict even the Games’ top performers and biggest names.
Jason Brown, an American figure skater who competed at two previous Olympics before being named an alternate for the 2026 U.S. team, said he cried for six days straight — “like, sobbing” — after the 2022 Beijing Games.
Some athletes struggle with the loss of structure after orienting all of their energy toward a single competition.
“It is tough because you go from all this, being busy, busy, busy, with such clear-cut goals, and then all of a sudden life opens up a lot,” said Ethan Cepuran, an American speedskater who experienced a sensation that resembled burnout after the 2022 Olympics.
“You just don’t know where you’re going to be and what you’re going to do every day,” said Cepuran, who won a silver medal in Milan.
He joked that even being forced to restart a grueling training plan — say, spending hours on a bicycle — felt like a relief in those times.
Also jarring for Olympic athletes is the sudden rise — and equally precipitous fall — in their celebrity status.
The average Olympian trains in relative anonymity in a niche sport. But during these few weeks, they are treated like stars. The spotlight feels pleasantly bright. Their Instagram followers multiply.
“We don’t have that much attention through the year, but at the Olympics, everybody around the world is watching you,” said Patrick Beckert, a German speedskater competing in his fifth Winter Games. “People tell you you’re doing a good job. You see your name in the newspaper and on social media.”
Ms. Bartley said the U.S. Olympic committee’s sports psychology team now treats the challenges competitors face at the end of an Olympic cycle as a priority, offering guidance to athletes “from the minute they make the team.”
She said some athletes and coaches used to push back on these discussions, seeing them as a distraction from their immediate competitive goals.
“I think those times have passed,” she said.
The growing resources for American athletes, supported by the committee’s philanthropic foundation, include a 24/7 hotline and a mental health training program, available in-person and online to athletes and those supporting them.
Ms. Bartley said the happiest athletes — the ones best equipped to manage the blues — were “multifaceted.” So one of her tactics has been helping them understand that their identities extend beyond the boundaries of their sports.
Colby Stevenson, an American freestyle skier, said he experienced about a week of disorientation after he won a silver medal at the 2022 Games — “Holy crap, it’s over” — but felt that feeling dissipate during a monthlong surfing trip he planned through Central America. The change of scenery — and sport — helped him remember who he was outside his day job.
“Then, when I come back to skiing, I’m refueled and just excited for more,” Mr. Stevenson said.
Ms. Bartley said it was also helpful for athletes to immediately identify a new set of goals after the Olympics. More and more athletes are doing this before the Games are even finished.
The American speedskater Sarah Warren, a first-time Olympian, luxuriated in her “newbie” status at these Games. She was awed by the packed arena in Milan. She was “fan-girling” over the other athletes in the village. She took advantage of the dining halls, having a steak each day.
Because she knew it would all be over soon.
Ms. Warren does not know exactly how she will feel at home, but she feels prepared for the challenge, in part because she has set new goals, including taking the Medical College Admission Test.
“I have my eyes set on medical school,” she said. “We’re going to start studying.”
Andrew Keh covers New York City and the surrounding region for The Times.
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