Skye Blakely loves a challenge. The world champ's gymnastics career didn't give her much choice

Skye Blakely is a fighter. Always has been.

“I don’t like ‘no’ as an answer," Blakely said. “And I do like a challenge.”

Good thing. The recently crowned world all-around champion's gymnastics career hasn't given her much choice.

Having your Olympic dream postponed not once, but twice, will do that.

Funny, though, how things work. The dark places Blakely retreated to after shredding her elbow at the 2021 Olympic Trials and the “Why me? Why now?” angst that came with tearing her right Achilles at the 2024 Trials seemed far away under the lights in Rotterdam last week, replaced by a joy rooted not in triumph, but perseverance and self-belief.

Sure, the gold medal she won during a tight final was nice. Yet the tears the preternaturally poised 21-year-old Dallas native fought back after nailing the beam routine that put her on the cusp of victory weren't because of her place atop the leaderboard, but the mere fact she had met the moment on her terms.

“I knew I had hit a good set, so I was like, ‘You can’t cry, the meet’s not over,’” Blakely told The Associated Press. “So I’m really serious.”

One “normal” floor routine later — set to music Blakely selected herself, starting with the sample from rap icon Jay-Z's “Show Me What You Got,” hardly the norm at elite meets — Blakely was the latest American woman to stand atop her sport, joining the likes of Simone Biles, Shawn Johnson, Shannon Miller and Jordyn Wieber, among others.

Having “world champion” attached to her resume for the rest of her life is something that might take some getting used to for an athlete who has made it a point to lean into the process, not the result.

She's still processing it, though if Blakely ever needs a reminder of “yes, that really happened,” validation is just one quick scroll through social media away.

“To see people recognize what I had gone through to get to that and to achieve that, it just made me so happy, it warmed my heart,” Blakely said. “And even just seeing a lot of TikTok edits of myself pop up on my ‘For You′ page, which some of them had, actually even made me cry. It just makes me grateful to know that other people have also noticed how much I have overcome and even that they feel inspired by what I have gone through.”

Injuries are a fact of life in a sport that can be both beautiful and merciless simultaneously. It's the way that Blakely has gracefully handled them at such a young age and at such crucial points in her journey that resonates.

She credits both her faith and an inherent determination for helping her find a way through.

The four medals she brought back with her from the Netherlands — gold in the all-around, silver in the team competition and bronze on bars and vault — didn't represent merely a week's worth of life-altering performances, but the long and often difficult journey to get there in the first place.

Gold was forged not just with four confident and professional routines inside Rotterdam Ahoy arena, but on the countless days when her body would tell her, “Hey, maybe not today OK?” and she would forge ahead anyway.

“I’m not scared to sacrifice things to achieve my biggest dreams,” she said. “And I feel like that creates a type of drive in me where if I really want it, I'm going to set my mind to it, and I’m going to dig deep.”

Is there FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) on the typical college experience? Of course there is. Are there days when she knows practice will hurt when she walks into the gym? Absolutely.

If this were easy, everybody would do it. It's not. That's part of what draws Blakely to it. When she hopped on the beam during the all-around final knowing a fall-free set would put her in position to win, the confidence she gained from thousands of hours in the gym, even on the days she maybe didn't want to be there, served as her north star.

Candidly, she did not arrive at worlds thinking she would come home with the biggest medal of them all. She didn't let herself dream that big until the moment arrived.

“I think it helps remind me what I’m capable of,” she said. “I think that was good for me to experience that, that ‘I can do this. You do know how to handle hard situations.’ It just kind of, again, gives me that confidence boost and also just allows me to go forward.”

The 2028 Los Angeles Olympics loom less than two years away. The group of American gymnasts aiming for a spot on the five-woman team — a group that already includes 2020 Olympic champion Suni Lee and Olympic gold medalists Jade Carey, Jordan Chiles and Hezly Rivera — may be the deepest ever assembled, especially if Biles decides to join the fray (the most decorated gymnast of all time is still weighing her options).

Blakely, the first-ever world champion to compete both collegiately and at the elite level at the same time, will stay at Florida through this season at least in hopes of helping the Gators to a national title.

College gymnastics, once thought of as the place American elites go to retire — something that is no longer the case thanks in part to the ability for athletes to make money off their name, image and likeness (NIL) — helped Blakely become a better teammate and competitor. Abandoning that now hardly feels necessary.

Asked if she went to Gators coach Jenny Rowland's office to demand more NIL money after coming back from worlds, Blakely just laughed, though the reality is there has been an uptick in interest from sponsors since her history-making turn in Europe.

Figuring out how to deal with it all is a problem she'll happily navigate alongside her parents Steven and Stephanie and her agent, Sheryl Shade.

The dark days are over. Blakely is only too happy to lean into the light.

See AP’s full sports coverage here

Skye Blakely, of the United States, stands on the podium after winning the gold medal in the women's all-around final at the Artistic Gymnastics World Championships in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, Friday, Oct. 23, 2026. (AP Photo/Patrick Post)

Skye Blakely, of the United States, competes in the floor exercise during the women's all-around final at the Artistic Gymnastics World Championships in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, Friday, Oct. 23, 2026. (AP Photo/Francisco Seco)

Skye Blakely, of the United States, and her coach wait for the scores after competing in the floor exercise during the women's all-around final at the Artistic Gymnastics World Championships in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, Friday, Oct. 23, 2026. (AP Photo/Patrick Post)

Skye Blakely, of the United States, competes in the the uneven bars during the women's all-around final at the Artistic Gymnastics World Championships in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, Friday, Oct. 23, 2026. (AP Photo/Francisco Seco)

Skye Blakely, of the United States, poses after winning the gold medal in the women's all-around final at the Artistic Gymnastics World Championships in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, Friday, Oct. 23, 2026. (AP Photo/Patrick Post)

It reared its bony head in 2020, during that first, chaotic pandemic year that was rife with grief and fear but also toilet paper hoarding and questionable lockdown-inspired purchases. Behold Skelly, the 12-foot, 90-pound skeleton with glowing LCD eyeballs, on sale for $299 from Home Depot, just in time for Halloween — at least, if you can get your hands on one.

Many did, because this is America. And when we get sad, stressed or bored, we shop, drowning our collective anxieties in things that we definitely don't need but most certainly want.

So, beginning in 2020, Skelly showed up on suburban lawns from California to New Jersey and on brownstone stoops in Brooklyn, naked or dressed in a costume, towering over jack-o’-lanterns and plastic gravestones with spooky puns like “Rest In Pieces.” It didn't take long for people to realize that keeping Skelly out year-round meant new opportunities to dress him for every season: Christmas, Fourth of July, or even just a bikini for summer.

In 2024, Skelly got a chest lightning attachment. And in 2026, a Bluetooth connection lets you record sounds or speak into it live, entertaining (or unsettling) your whole block. He also has a dog, a cat, and a smaller, 6½-foot version for those who can't quite commit to a giant. It has sold out before Halloween every year.

“It is the ultimate American decoration,” says Aubrey Horowitz, merchant of Decorative Holiday at Home Depot. “We really love this sense of nostalgia and having some form of connection with our communities and the people that live around us. And frankly, you know, a lot of times bigger is better.”

I did not celebrate Halloween until I arrived in the U.S. from Eastern Europe at age 13. I was shocked by the sheer size of everything: giant cars, highways with all those lanes, enormous gallons of milk instead of our polite liters, skyscrapers so tall they were licking the clouds.

We also weren't used to whimsy. Gaudy yard decor, whether for Halloween or Christmas, was as foreign a concept as warehouse shopping or smiling at strangers.

Skelly would have certainly stopped us in our tracks. It still does. The uniquely American delight it brings to me, an immigrant still often in awe of Americans' seasonal joy and over-the-top ornamentations, is contagious.

The U.S. did not invent Halloween. But Halloween excess, with its pillowcases full of candy, elaborate costumes for everyone from babies to adults to dogs (and a few unlucky cats), could not be more American.

And why have a 5′8″ skeleton when you can have a 12-foot one?

Part of a recurring series, “American Objects,” marking the 250th anniversary of the United States. For more American objects, click here. For more stories on the anniversary, click here.

FILE - Sam McNamara, 3, of Washington, left, followed by his grandmother, rides by a yard decorated with giant skeletons, both human and dinosaur, Oct. 14, 2020, in advance celebration of Halloween in Washington. (AP Photo/Jacquelyn Martin, File)

FILE - Chrissy and Dominic Montesano look at the 12-foot tall skeleton in front of their home in Valencia, Pennsylvania, October 15, 2020. (AP Photo/Ted Shaffrey, File)

FILE - A 12-foot Home Depot skeleton stands in the front yard of a Cincinnati home on Sept. 24, 2024. (AP Photo/Sallee Ann Harrison, File)