ST. LOUIS — As Alysa Liu steps onto the ice this weekend for the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, the 20-year-old from the San Francisco Bay Area is not just chasing another national title but embracing a second chapter in her remarkable career. Once a teenage prodigy who walked away from the sport at its peak, Liu has returned with a renewed sense of joy and purpose, positioning herself as a frontrunner for the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan-Cortina, Italy. Her journey from burnout to world champion has captivated the figure skating world, highlighting the pressures young athletes face and the power of rediscovering passion on one's own terms.
Liu's story begins with early success that propelled her to the top of American figure skating. At just 13, she became the youngest winner of the U.S. junior ladies' title in 2017. She followed that with national championships in 2019 and 2020, earning a spot on the U.S. Olympic team for the 2022 Beijing Games, where she finished sixth. But behind the accolades, the relentless grind of elite training took its toll. Living at the U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, Colorado, Liu's days blurred into a monotonous routine of skating, eating, and sleeping with little room for anything else.
“I really had nothing going on with my life, you know? Just training,” Liu told The Associated Press in an interview ahead of the championships. She described her existence there as isolating: “I would live at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado, in a dorm by myself. I would eat their food. I went to the rink, skated, ate lunch there, skated some more. Went back to the dorm. I didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t see anything. I was just there.” At 16, after the Beijing Olympics, Liu abruptly retired, shocking the skating community. She later reflected, “And so all that, I was like, ‘Skating is not worth it.’ Like, this is not worth it. I didn’t, you know, care about what I skated to, or what my dress was like. I let everyone else decide. So I was really like, ‘Who am I?’ I felt like a puppet other people were using.”
The decision to step away allowed Liu to reclaim her identity outside the rink. She enrolled at the University of California, Los Angeles, where she expanded her social circle far beyond the confines of figure skating. Travel became a priority; one highlight was a trek to Mount Everest Base Camp in Nepal, an adventure that left her feeling empowered and alive. “I was one of the most excited people when I heard she was coming back,” said Kristi Yamaguchi, the 1992 Olympic champion and fellow Bay Area native who had watched Liu's early career unfold. Yamaguchi, who grew up skating in the same region, added, “Not just, ‘Oh, maybe she could represent the U.S. and do well,’ but I think she left a lot on the table. She was 16 when she stepped away. I was totally heartbroken. But I think she had to miss it in order to come back the way she did, and really have perspective and the empowerment that she had when she came back.”
Liu's return to skating was gradual and sparked by an unexpected thrill. During a skiing trip, the rush of adrenaline reminded her of the excitement she once felt on the ice. She started skating recreationally, without the weight of competition. But as her enjoyment grew, so did her ambition. By January 2025, at the U.S. Championships in Wichita, Kansas, Liu had shaken off the rust and secured second place. Reigning champion Amber Glenn edged her out by the second-smallest margin in U.S. history, a testament to Liu's rapid resurgence.
“She didn’t have really anything to, quote-unquote, prove anymore,” said Nathan Chen, the Olympic gold medalist and Liu's close friend. “She had already accomplished all the things that she set out to do. And I think that allowed her the freedom to just go off and be Alysa.” Chen's observation underscores how Liu's hiatus freed her from external expectations, allowing her to approach the sport with authenticity.
The momentum built quickly. In March 2025, at the World Figure Skating Championships in Boston, Liu captivated the crowd with her evident delight in performing. She won both the short program and free skate, dethroning Japan's three-time defending champion Kaori Sakamoto. The victory marked the first time an American woman had claimed the world title since Kimmie Meissner's win in 2006, a drought spanning nearly two decades. Liu's smiles during her routines spoke volumes about her transformed mindset.
Her dominance continued through the season. Last spring, Liu contributed to Team USA's gold medal at the World Team Trophy event. In November 2025, she claimed her first Grand Prix victory at Skate America. She capped the year by winning the prestigious Grand Prix Final in December, solidifying her status as one of the sport's elite.
Experts in the field have praised Liu's steady return. “To take two years off and to come back, and come back all the way to win a world title, I think that in itself is what’s exceptional,” said Gracie Gold, a two-time U.S. champion and Olympic bronze medalist. Gold noted Liu's consistency: “She didn’t win everything, it wasn’t an undefeated season, but I just thought she was really steady all season. She had this comfort level. She was authentic to herself.”
Now, as Liu prepares for the U.S. Championships at the Enterprise Center in St. Louis from January 6-12, 2026, the event carries deep personal significance. She won the title here in 2019 and 2020 as a teenage sensation, before her hiatus. A victory would complete a poetic full circle, six years after her last national crown. The stakes are high, with selection for the 2026 Olympics on the line, though Liu's path seems clear given her recent form.
Liu's evolution extends beyond the ice. She now lives at home in the Bay Area, drives herself to the rink, and prioritizes time with friends. “Now I hang out with my friends all the time. I make weekend trips to see them,” she said. “I can do whatever I want. Free range, no rules, for however long I want. I’m on my schedule now.” This balanced life contrasts sharply with her pre-retirement days, fostering a healthier relationship with the sport.
Reflecting on her past disdain for skating, Liu shared a profound shift in perspective. “I really despised skating,” she admitted. “I thought that skating was the reason why all these bad things were happening to me. I thought that for so long, you know? But I realized through time, like, that’s not the case. It doesn’t have to be like that. And yeah, so now I do not take the sport as seriously. Nothing is hurt. I just compete so that I can, like, skate. Show my programs.”
Her story resonates in a sport often criticized for its intensity on young athletes. Liu's comeback offers hope and a model for sustainability, showing that stepping away can lead to greater strength. As the U.S. Championships unfold, all eyes will be on whether she can channel this growth into another triumph, paving the way for Olympic glory in Italy.
With the 2026 Games approaching, Liu's trajectory suggests she could become a pivotal figure for Team USA. Her achievements have already reignited interest in American women's figure skating, echoing the legacies of Yamaguchi, Chen, and Gold. Whatever the outcome in St. Louis, Liu's second act proves that resilience and self-discovery can redefine a career—and perhaps the sport itself.