At 9 a.m. ona Wednesday in January, 18-year-old Simone Biles was dancing in the middle of World Champions Centre in Spring, Texas, but no music was playing. Clad in black spandex shorts and a hoodie — all Nike, her corporate sponsor — the three-time world gymnastics champion was going through the motions of her new floor routine as Dominic Zito, the national team choreographer, stood on the sidelines, watching her as she sashayed across the mat.
Biles was the only athlete practicing in the 56,000-square-foot facility that was being built by the world champion’s family. I had twice driven past a nondescript side door, which was functioning temporarily as the gym entrance, before I realized that it was the only way in. The front of the building, which now holds offices and a pro shop, was still under construction.
It was finally time for Biles to try the routine with the music. She stripped off her hoodie, revealing a racer-back tank top underneath. In the leotards she normally performs in, even sleeveless ones, you don’t see the shoulder blades. You can’t see the finer points of her strength, how she lifts her arms, activating all of the muscles in her back. All you can see are her impressive arms and shoulders, which are cut, defined, wide, tapering down into her no-hipped lower body.
Zito hit play on his laptop, and Brazilian music blared from speakers. The selection was the first indication that the long-awaited Olympic year had finally arrived. In 2012, Gabby Douglas arrived in London expecting to do well, but she wasn’t the standout favorite. If she hadn’t won the gold, it's unlikely it would have been seen as a shocking upset.
The same can’t be said for Biles, who turned 19 in March. Since she aged into the senior ranks in 2013, Biles has broken or tied every record in women’s gymnastics and has been called the “most talented gymnast ever.” In 2015, she became the first woman to win three consecutive world all-around titles. That was also the same year she broke the record for most gold medals won by a female gymnast in a world championship competition. For Biles, going to the Olympics is not so much about winning as it is notlosing the gold.
For Biles, going to the Olympics is not so much about winning as it is not losing the gold.
Biles is frequently compared to the likes of Michael Jordan or Michael Phelps: all-time greats whose legacies transcend their individual sports. This is unusual for gymnastics, which is typically treated as separate from the rest of the sporting world, as an athletic sideshow with uniquely young and small athletes and nebulous rules and corrupt judging. But Biles’ superiority is so plain to see that even the uninitiated can understand it.
Today, she and her coaches are trying to crack an impossible-seeming question: How do you end the floor routine of one of the greatest athletes of all-time? What pose can possibly say all of that?
Zito told me that he was under orders from national team coordinator Martha Karolyi to create “something sexier” for the gymnast. When Biles first burst onto the scene in 2013, she was just shy of 16 with a mouth full of braces. But she will be 19 in Rio. Cute isn’t going to cut it anymore.
According to Zito, her character in the routine is the Brazilian Carnival dancer with a flamboyant feather headdress: the passista. (This kind of pandering has a long history in the sport, from Czechoslovakian superstar Vera Caslavska performing to “The Mexican Hat Dance” in 1968 Mexico City to Romanian Cristina Bontas performing to a medley including “Yankee Doodle” and “The Star-Spangled Banner” in Indianapolis in 1991.) It was a character that the 4-foot-8-inch Biles seemed to be struggling to embody. Zito kept trying to get Biles to move her hips more in order to accent the fast percussive rhythms. “Shake your booty,” he told her as she swung into the corner. Throughout the session, she often found herself slightly behind the beats, occasionally forgetting a step, and, once or twice, accidentally doing choreography from a previous year’s routine.
“I’m dancing a lot more than usual,” Biles told me later. “It’s very fun and very tiring.” As she worked on memorizing the dance steps, she nonchalantly ran from corner to corner instead of doing her normally powerful tumbling runs.
It was an odd experience to watch the world champion struggle at anything. I asked whether it felt as easy as it looked. “We're supposed to make it look easy,” she told me, dancing around the question. "But did it feel easy?" I asked her again. Biles laughed. She’s a bouncy presence on the gym floor and the sidelines. “I’ve watched myself, and I feel like it’s been pretty easy,” she admitted.