Simone Biles was a whirlwind of energy as a child, but when teachers noticed her drifting in class, distracted by a bird outside or a whisper in the room, her parents sought answers. Near the end of the school year, a test confirmed she had ADHD. Yet, in the gym, something ignited her focus, channeling her boundless energy into a singular pursuit. “Even with ADHD, I could be laser focused,” she wrote in her autobiography, Courage to Soar: A Body in Motion, A Life in Balance. What could harness such intensity in a young girl?

That fire was gymnastics, where Biles found her calling. Biles was unstoppable, her sights set on new skills. “I just got some new skills on beam, an aerial, which is a cartwheel with no hands, and a round-off double into the pit,” she journaled. “On bars, we’re working on Tkatchevs. I hope I get it on the high bar soon. I feel like every time I learn a new skill, I have accomplished something.” Bars, though, were her nemesis. The Tkatchev, a release-and-catch move where a gymnast swings, releases the bar just past horizontal, flies backward in a straddle, and catches it again, haunted her. Why was this one skill so hard to master?

A terrifying moment made it worse. During practice at Bannon’s Gymnastics, Biles hesitated mid-Tkatchev, failing to release the bar. She backbended, spun around her neck, and crashed off the apparatus. Her coach, pseudonymized as Tomas in her book, rushed over, shouting, “Simone, what are you doing? You can’t do that! You have to follow through with the skill or you’ll get injured.” Unhurt but shaken, Biles was gripped by fear. Could she ever face the Tkatchev again?

Stubbornness became her ally. For nearly a year, Biles battled the Tkatchev, her timing off, reaching too early and crashing into the bar or missing it entirely. One frustrating day, after countless failed attempts, she sobbed to her coach, Aimee, “I’m never going to get it! I’ve been trying for seven months. Why can’t I learn this release move?” Yet, just before practice ended, she nailed it, crying tears of joy. Was she ready to compete it?

Despite inconsistent catches, Tomas urged her to include the Tkatchev in her routine at the CoverGirl Classic, a stepping stone to the Visa National Championship. “You can’t go to Nationals without a strong Tkatchev,” he insisted. Aimee agreed, pushing Biles to up her difficulty. Reluctantly, she said yes, her focus unwavering despite her ADHD. So, how did she overcome her fears?

How Simone Biles’ fought with childhood ADHD

As a child, Simone Biles’ ADHD made stillness a struggle, her attention hijacked by the world around her. “It seemed that any little thing—a bird flitting by outside, footsteps in the hallway, one student whispering to another at the back of the room—was enough to distract me from what the teacher was saying,” she wrote in Courage to Soar: A Body in Motion, A Life in Balance. By the end of the school year, her dad arranged for testing. What would the results reveal about her boundless energy?

The diagnosis confirmed ADHD, a condition that fit her hyperactive childhood. “Given how hyper and energetic I’d always been as a little kid, no one was entirely surprised when it turned out I had ADHD,” Biles noted. Yet, this wasn’t a setback; it was a spark. In the gym, her scattered focus sharpened into relentless drive, transforming her into a gymnastics powerhouse. Could this challenge become her greatest asset?

On the mat, Biles’ ADHD fueled her intensity, turning distractions into determination. Each routine she mastered was a victory over doubt, her energy propelling her toward national dreams. Her ability to channel chaos into precision set her apart. How would this unstoppable spirit shape her path to global stardom?