LOS ANGELES — Out of breath and proudly gripping a gold medal around her neck, Olivia Quigley has a message for someone she’s been determined to confront.
I’m not gonna let you stop me. You’ll never win. I won’t give up. Ever.
Who is she talking to?
The girl with an American flag bandana covering up her bald head takes another deep breath.
“Cancer,” she said, exhaling.
Quigley, 24, was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer in February. Around the same time, the sprinter found out she was invited to compete in the Special Olympics World Games in Los Angeles. She’s been receiving rigorous chemotherapy treatments that have often left her exhausted and gasping for air after runs. When she arrives home on Aug. 6, she will have an MRI to determine if the tumors have shrunk enough to have surgery.
“The doctors wanted to do my chemotherapy and surgery in July,” Quigley said. “I said, no I’m not doing it. Because I’m gonna go to the World Games with cancer or not. Nothing is stopping me from going.”
Olivia Quigley wins the 100 meters at the World Games. (Aaron Mills/Special Olympics USA)
Olivia is a fighter, in the very sense of the word. If there’s a wall, expect her to knock it over.
She was diagnosed with autism, shortly after being adopted from China by Dan and Judy Quigley (of Wisconsin) at 3 years old. Yet she’s a social butterfly, exudes confidence and is an elegant public speaker for Special Olympics.
She was told by doctors she wouldn’t be able to be an independent adult without the help of her parents. Yet she’s living on her own, has a springer spaniel named Oliver and has a full-time job at the Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin.
She was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness. Yet she ordered her doctors to schedule her treatments around the chance-of-a-lifetime World Games, which she prepped for with a personal trainer in addition to regularly practicing taekwondo and training several times a week.
Basically, fighting cancer came completely naturally.
“I’ve been so tired and so sick lately,” she said. “My stomach hurts a lot at times. And I get scared during chemo or surgery because I don’t like needles. But, I just remind myself I can do it, that I’m gonna push through it, I’m gonna be a winner and a good sport.”
***
A few days before her biggest race at the World Games — the 100 meter run — Olivia woke up with pains in her chest and stomach. She was physically drained, feeling the aches from nearly six months of chemo. Then she started to lose more of her hair and had to shave her head, another reminder that she’s far from the typical Special Olympian. She was emotionally drained as well.
Overwhelmed, she asked her mom what it would be like to die. Because death meant no more pain to withstand.
But for Olivia, fighting isn’t about staying up. It’s about getting up once she’s fallen. Later during the week, one day before race day, walking with her parents on the beach in Santa Monica, she found resolve.
“Without batting an eye, she told me she was going to win gold,” said her mother, Judy, choking up. Then Olivia jumped in the waves at the beach. Her spirit was revitalized.
Olivia, middle, with her parents Judy and Dan. (Aaron Mills/Special Olympics USA)
“She said she wanted to win gold in honor of every woman who’s suffering from breast cancer so they can work hard and beat it. She’ll say, ‘nobody deserves to feel like that. It’s not fair.’ That’s how Olivia takes the pain. She says, ‘I need to help people.’ ”
Olivia, a die-hard Harry Potter fan and Taylor Swift and Katy Perry lover, is particularly affectionate towards her mother, calling her “my rockstar” and “the best mom in the world.”
“She’s been through thick and thin with me,” Olivia said. “When I was first diagnosed with cancer, my Mom was really, really sad because she didn’t know if her daughter was going to live or not live. She was really nervous because the cancer I have is really aggressive and it was spreading really fast.
“It’s a really strong connection, a strong click between my mom and I,” Olivia added. “I like to hang onto her, but she tries to pry me off of her for my own good. I love my mom so much.”
Likewise, Olivia’s drive is undoubtedly a product of her loving mother’s faith in her daughter.
“For Olivia, there’s no such word as disability,” Judy Quigley said.
Olivia takes on her new stardom, answering questions on ESPN. Aaron Mills/Special Olympics USA)
“I want her to be an independent, self-sufficient young woman. She came from an orphanage environment at age 3. She needed someone to connect strongly with. I tend to be that rock. But growing up, there were no excuses in life. Someone says, ‘you can’t’ to us and there were always solutions. It might sound like I’m pushing her too much, but not beyond her limits. I’ve always wanted her to recognize her abilities, who she is as an individual. It’s better to spend your life trying things than being afraid or pushed down. Olivia, in every aspect of life has had determination and drive. She’s a fighter.”
Before Olivia was diagnosed with cancer, the Special Olympics became her sanctuary and structured her life. She also suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder and was hospitalized several times growing up as a kid from bouts of anger and sadness.
“My depression goes down, then it goes up,” she said. “Special Olympics makes me positive. My coaches and family lift my spirit up.”
“That’s what sports has done for her,” Judy said. “It’s a sense of accomplishing something. With her autism, she needs a structured life. And she can obsess on things and never let go. She’s task-driven. (Special Olympics) pushes her forward. It fits in with her skills and strengths. She’s always reaching for the next step and holding nothing back. If she reaches a goal, she’ll create a new goal for herself. Part of the beauty of her autism is that she has no preconceived notions of how you should act. She doesn’t process it fully, so she just fights through everything.
“Life throws you all sorts of curves. It’s what you choose to do with those curves, how you’re able to survive it. Olivia gets that.”
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On race day, Olivia had laser focus.
“Today, she was really, really tired. But she had the eye of the tiger,” said Special Olympics volunteer Lillian Ponder, who’d been casually admiring Olivia’s willpower as a track official. “Girl just took off. I was so proud.”
Olivia became the star of Special Olympics (Aaron Mills/Special Olympics USA)
Before Thursday’s 100-meter run, Olivia had been clocking 18-second times — a much slower pace than her personal bests of 14 seconds before chemotherapy took over her life.
Once the gun went off, Olivia left the fatigue from her cancer in the starting blocks. She finished with a time of 16.76 seconds, easily winning gold. Once she crossed the finish line, the feeling was utter bliss.
“I was so tired at the beginning. I tried so hard in that race,” she said. “I wanted to dedicate this gold medal to everybody who’s struggling for their lives with breast cancer and also for breast cancer survivors.”
Olivia pauses. “Well, I’m not actually going to give anyone my medal. That’s mine,” she said, laughing. “But my medal is going to go up for the fight against breast cancer.”
To those close to her, Olivia’s spirit and effervescence through adversity has been infectious. Olivia’s USA teammates were wearing matching bandanas to support her grit and desire.
“We all know what she’s going through,” said Olivia’s track coach Deb Moore-Gruenloh, who’s been with her for two years. “So we were high-fiving and hugging. Lots of tears. … She’s always cheering on teammates and runners from other countries, boosting them up. If I’m having a bad day and I’m down in the dumps, she’s the one coming to cheer me up. I’m like, ‘you have cancer.’ I should be lifting you up.
“Olivia’s a coach’s dream. She’s such a hard worker. She doesn’t give up. At a Regional meet, someone got in her lane and she ended up falling. She got right back up and finished the race with bloody knees and elbows. She was determined to finish.”
Olivia gets the gold medal placed over her head. (Aaron Mills/Special Olympics USA)
After the big victory, Olivia was treated like a celebrity. Everyone embraced her, admiring her arduous journey. Autograph and picture seekers, particularly policemen who were involved with Special Olympics, hovered over her.
The World Games have offered a bevy of powerful moments. None of this magnitude, though. And if there was a Michael Jordan of these Games, as far as inspiration goes, Olivia took the cake — practically personifying the Special Olympics’ message.
“Olivia realizes this is actually not about her,” Judy Quigley said. “To her it’s about, ‘how can I help?’ On many levels, with autism and cancer, she’s able to show that anybody can do anything. Everybody has abilities, talents, inner strength. If you put your mind to it, you can do anything.”
Olivia strikes the signature Special Olympics pose. (Aaron Mills/Special Olympics USA)
