Olivia DuboisThree-peat. Olympic team gold. A triple Axel on the biggest stage in sport. By any measure, 2026 has been the most extraordinary chapter in Amber Glenn's figure skating career. Yet within weeks of her landmark performances at the Milan-Cortina Winter Olympics and the World Championships in Prague, the Texas-born skater told reporters what few athletes dare say out loud: retirement is "in my brain." For the millions of Canadians who train, compete, and eventually step away from elite sport, Glenn's candour opens a conversation that sports culture too often shuts down — the hidden mental health toll of knowing when to stop.
What Actually Happened in 2026
Glenn entered this season as the reigning two-time U.S. national champion, an openly queer athlete who carried enormous symbolic weight every time she stepped on the ice. At the January 2026 U.S. Figure Skating Championships, she won a third consecutive title — the first woman to do so since Michelle Kwan completed her five-title run in 2003. At Milan-Cortina, she helped Team USA win gold in the team event and became one of only five women in Olympic history to land a triple Axel in competition. The individual event, however, saw her finish fifth — a result that by any reasonable standard represents excellence, but that she described in post-competition interviews as falling short of her own expectations.
At the 2026 World Championships in Prague, Glenn stumbled mid-program in her free skate and landed sixth with a score of 203.12, despite nailing the triple Axel in the opening pass. She later addressed retirement publicly, saying it was a decision she would make "in the summer." The contrast — historic achievement coexisting with profound ambivalence — is not a sign of ingratitude. Sports psychologists say it is one of the clearest warning signals of athletic career burnout.
Why Retirement Feels Like Grief — and Why That's Normal
Elite athletes, particularly those who have competed since childhood, often experience retirement as a form of loss that rivals bereavement. The identity built around a sport — the 4 a.m. practices, the travel, the uniform, the community — does not dissolve the moment a decision is announced. According to the Canadian Centre for Mental Health and Sport (CCMHS), an estimated 35% of elite athletes experience clinically significant mental health symptoms at some point in their careers, with transitions out of sport representing one of the highest-risk periods.
For skaters specifically, the dynamics are compounding. Most have trained since early childhood, meaning the sport is not simply what they do — it is, at a neurological and psychological level, much of what they are. When that structure disappears — voluntarily or through injury — the sudden absence of purpose, routine, and identity can trigger anxiety, depression, and what clinicians call "post-sport identity crisis." Research published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine (2022) found that athletes who retired without structured psychological transition support had significantly higher rates of clinically significant depression at 12 months compared to those who received professional support during the transition process.
Amber Glenn's public openness about wrestling with this decision, even while standing on the highest rungs of her sport, is doing something important: it normalizes the idea that peak achievement and psychological struggle can coexist — and that seeking support is not weakness but strategy.
What Happens When Athletes Don't Get Help in Time
The signal problem is that the symptoms of burnout and pre-retirement distress are easy to rationalize. A skater who feels exhausted tells herself she just needs a rest week. One who has lost her drive after a medal assumes the feeling will pass. The irritability, disrupted sleep, and hollowness that follow a major competition — what Glenn described as ambivalence despite success — are often the body's way of communicating overload. When athletes dismiss these signals long enough, the consequences intensify.
Post-retirement depression among elite athletes is well-documented but still under-addressed in Canada. A 2024 survey by the Coaching Association of Canada found that fewer than 20% of retired national-level athletes had access to dedicated mental health transition support from their sport federation. Many described the end of their career as the loneliest period of their lives, despite outward accomplishments.
The window for intervention — ideally, professional support that begins before the retirement decision is finalized — is the one most athletes miss. By the time crisis emerges, the opportunity for a smooth transition has often closed.
A Case That Shows the Stakes Clearly
Consider a concrete scenario that plays out in rinks across Ontario every season: Sophia, 24, a competitive figure skater from Mississauga who has trained since age eight. She just won her third provincial title. At the podium, she felt nothing. In the weeks that follow, she notices difficulty sleeping before competitions, finds herself snapping at coaches, and quietly wonders whether she actually wants to be there anymore. Her coach tells her it is "just nerves." Her parents remind her she has worked too hard to walk away. She pushes through another season.
Here is the clinical if/then: if Sophia continues without professional support for another 12 months, research profiles suggest a 30–40% probability of meeting the diagnostic threshold for Adjustment Disorder or a Major Depressive Episode within 18 months of eventual retirement. Post-career depression in this cohort averages 14–24 months of active treatment at $150–250 per session in Ontario (most provincial health plans do not cover sport psychology under OHIP; private benefits vary). Total potential cost: $5,000–$15,000 in therapy, and the more significant cost of a transition that takes years instead of months.
If instead Sophia consults a registered sport psychologist now — while still competing — the trajectory changes substantially. A structured 8–12 session engagement ($1,200–$3,000 at typical Ontario rates) identifies the source of her ambivalence, helps her clarify values separate from skating, and prepares a genuine transition plan. Skaters who engage professional support pre-retirement typically report healthier post-sport identities, stronger relationships, and faster career pivots into coaching, sport administration, or entirely new fields.
The investment is modest. The alternative is not.
Signs Canadian Athletes Should Not Dismiss
Sports psychologists at the CCMHS and university athletics programs across Canada flag the following patterns as warranting professional consultation — not just a week off:
Persistent ambivalence after a success. Winning and feeling empty for more than two weeks post-competition is not standard fatigue. It is a signal.
Loss of intrinsic motivation. When an athlete's only remaining motivation is external — coaches' expectations, parents' investment, fear of not knowing what else to do — the psychological cost of continuing rises steeply.
Identity foreclosure. If the thought of not competing triggers panic disproportionate to the practical implications, this indicates that sport has become the sole organizing structure of an identity — a fragile foundation.
Sleep disruption and irritability lasting more than three weeks. These are not personality quirks during hard training blocks. They are physiological stress indicators.
Declining performance despite sustained or increased effort. When the harder you try, the worse it gets, the body is communicating overload, not weakness.
Any two of these patterns, sustained over a training block, are sufficient reason to seek professional assessment rather than wait.
What to Do If You Recognize These Signs
In Canada, the first step is not a crisis line or a general practitioner — it is a sport-specific mental health professional who understands the culture of elite training. The Canadian Centre for Mental Health and Sport offers a practitioner directory and education resources for athletes, coaches, and families, including guidance on how to distinguish normal competition stress from clinical-level distress.
For athletes covered by university athletic programs, many institutions now include mental health support in their varsity programs. For club-level and independent athletes, a referral from a family physician to a registered sport psychologist can sometimes be partially covered through provincial health plans or extended benefits.
The key message from Amber Glenn's story is not that she is struggling — she has been, by any objective measure, triumphant. It is that even at the summit of achievement, the questions that matter most are not about scores. They are about what comes next, who you are without the ice, and whether you have the support to answer those questions well.
Elite sport teaches athletes to push through. Sometimes, the most elite decision is knowing when to ask for help.
Disclaimer: This article is for informational purposes only. If you or an athlete you support are experiencing mental health symptoms, consult a qualified healthcare or sport psychology professional for personalized advice.
