Boulder, Colorado, known as the fittest city in America, hosts the BOLDERBoulder road race every year. The author, who was a talented runner at a young age, reflects on their athletic journey and the challenges they faced with acne and hormonal imbalances. They also discuss the ongoing debate surrounding gender diversity in sports. S. C. Cornell reported
Boulder, Colorado, the place where I was born and raised, has earned the nickname of the fittest city in America. It is a town filled with active individuals of all ages. Even septuagenarians go skiing before work, while high-school students can be found hanging out at the climbing gym. People in Boulder don’t just hike, they trail run. The town is so dedicated to fitness that it hosts the BOLDERBoulder, one of the largest road races in the country. This event is like a festival day in honor of the local god of exercise.
My personal experience with fitness in Boulder began at a young age. I first ran the ten-kilometre course of the BOLDERBoulder when I was only six years old. This may seem unusual to outsiders, but in Boulder, it is a common initiation for locals. Surprisingly, I discovered that I was a naturally talented runner. For three consecutive years, I finished first among four hundred girls my age and fifth or sixth among a similar number of boys. At the age of twelve, which was my last year of racing, I achieved the sixth-fastest time ever recorded by a twelve-year-old girl in the race’s three-decade history. My parents were astonished by my abilities. It was not something they had inherited, and it didn’t seem to be the result of hard work either. I had no passion for running, and I never trained for it.
However, my true passion and the sport I dedicated myself to was soccer. The Front Range of Colorado, where Boulder is located, is known for producing excellent soccer players. In fact, all of the United States’ goals in the recent Women’s World Cup were scored by players who grew up within an hour’s drive of Boulder. I had dreams of becoming one of them and playing at an elite level. Unfortunately, my cushy childhood and comfortable upbringing couldn’t make up for the fact that I wasn’t good enough. Year after year, I failed to make the local club’s first team. I finally made my high school’s varsity team as a sophomore but didn’t start a game until my senior year. If you had asked me at fifteen whether I would rather be a slightly better soccer player or find true love, I wouldn’t have hesitated. My dreams at night weren’t filled with visions of love, but with images of wide green fields, perfectly timed tackles, and expertly executed chipped shots.
Another dream I had as a youth, which seemed unrelated to my athletic pursuits, was to get rid of my acne. From the time I hit puberty, my acne plagued me, ranging from demoralizing to disfiguring. It wasn’t until the end of college that I finally started taking Accutane, a medication known for its harsh side effects on the liver. However, for two blissful years, my skin was smooth and clear like that of a baby. Unfortunately, the acne returned worse than ever before. It looked as though I had been in a fight with a wasp’s nest and lost. In 2022, I moved to Mexico City and sought the help of a dermatologist there. I was desperate for another round of Accutane, even if it meant risking my liver. The dermatologist, however, wanted to rule out any hormonal causes for my acne, such as polycystic ovary syndrome (P.C.O.S.), before proceeding with the treatment. This was frustrating because other doctors had already explained to me that hormonal acne typically fluctuates with the menstrual cycle, whereas mine was constant throughout the month. Nevertheless, I followed her advice and underwent expensive blood tests.
A week later, I received the results in a small office in downtown Mexico City. The grandmotherly gynecologist who examined me explained that I had a condition called hyperandrogenism. Essentially, I had an excess of male sex hormones, including testosterone, which likely explained my decade-long struggle with acne. To make matters even more peculiar, my estrogen levels were much lower than those of most premenopausal women and were more typical of prepubescent children. Furthermore, my free-testosterone levels, one of three forms of the hormone, were well above the usual female range. While this diagnosis was shocking and initially overwhelming, I realized that it didn’t change my identity as a woman. It was actually a relief to know that my acne was caused by something as innocent and treatable as hormones. The doctor prescribed three medications: a dietary supplement, a new birth control containing drospirenone, and a pill called spironolactone. Strangely enough, I was familiar with spironolactone because it is often prescribed to trans women in the U.S. as part of their hormone-replacement therapy. I would later learn that it can also be used by intersex women in conjunction with birth control to lower testosterone levels and compete in certain elite sports.
As someone who has followed women’s sports for a long time, I have witnessed the ongoing debate over the inclusion of transgender women in women’s sports. This debate has escalated from a discussion among fans of women’s track to becoming a national wedge issue. Politicians like Tim Scott and Nikki Haley have weighed in, framing it as a matter of fairness and women’s rights. Prior to my blood tests, I considered myself a member of the potentially affected group – cisgender women who play sports and have a strong desire to win. However, I was never particularly concerned that increased gender diversity would destroy women’s sports as we know them. The idea that men would transition solely to gain a competitive advantage seemed far-fetched and didn’t align with my understanding of masculine pride. After receiving my blood test results, I still identified as a cisgender woman who loved sports and competition. However, in a sporting world that increasingly categorizes athletes based on hormone levels, I found myself questioning who is truly threatened and who poses a threat.
The separation of men and women in elite sports is based on the well-established fact that men generally outperform women. On average, the best men in quantitatively measurable sports perform between nine and twelve percent better than the best women. This gap is even more significant in sports that rely on explosive strength. For example, a fifteen-year-old boy has jumped farther than any woman on record. However, there are exceptions to this rule. Women excel in very long-distance swimming, and Maya Gabeira, a Brazilian woman, surfed the biggest wave of the 2019-20 season. It is important to note that improvements in nutrition, equipment, recruitment, and training have allowed the best women today to compete at the same level as the best men did a century ago. Nevertheless, when comparing athletes in the same era, the dominance of men is undeniable. As proof of this, the United States Women’s National Soccer Team once lost 2-5 in a scrimmage against teenage boys on an F.C. Dallas developmental team, which was a source of great shame for me.
The challenge for sports administrators is not whether to maintain a sex line in elite sports but rather how to accurately distinguish between “legitimate” women and individuals who may be attempting to deceive the system. This has proven to be a difficult task, as evidenced by the suspicions surrounding athletes like Helen Stephens, Stella Walsh, and Käthe Krauss, who faced scrutiny over their sex during the 1936 Berlin Olympics. In the past, athletes would sometimes resort to adopting more feminine appearances or entering into marriages of convenience to prove their femininity. However, these methods were not foolproof, and the conflation of sex and sexuality only added to the complexity of the issue.
In conclusion, Boulder, Colorado is a town known for its dedication to fitness and athleticism. I grew up in this environment, participating in events like the BOLDERBoulder and discovering my natural talent for running. However, my true passion was soccer, and I dedicated myself to the sport despite facing numerous setbacks. In addition to my athletic pursuits, I also struggled with acne and eventually discovered that it was caused by a hormonal imbalance. This experience led me to question the ongoing debate surrounding transgender women in sports and the division between male and female athletes based on hormone levels. While the separation of men and women in elite sports is based on performance differences, the challenge lies in accurately determining who belongs in which category..