What she built
Six Olympic Games. Six medals. Two sports.
Clara Hughes is the only Olympian in history to win multiple medals at both the Summer and Winter Games.
Two bronze medals in cycling at Atlanta 1996. Four medals in speed skating, including Olympic gold in Turin in 2006.
But Hughes built more than an Olympic legacy.
She became a founding spokesperson for Bell Let's Talk, helping bring depression into Canada's national conversation at a time when mental health remained heavily stigmatized.
She also became a bestselling author, publishing two memoirs: Open Heart, Open Mind and her 2026 release, Learning to Breathe.
Her medals proved what her body could accomplish. Her writing reveals what that achievement cost.
Category failure, diagnosed
Menopause is one of the most common transitions in a woman's life.
It's also one of the least supported.
When Hughes began experiencing menopausal symptoms, her initial medical treatment focused on depression.
She was offered antidepressants instead of hormone therapy.
It wasn't until she found a women's health specialist that she received menopause-specific care, including hormone therapy.
For a woman who had spent decades understanding her body at the highest level of athletic performance, getting appropriate medical attention became another challenge.
Her experience reveals a troubling contradiction.
Women are expected to recognize changes in their bodies, advocate for themselves and navigate a healthcare system that doesn't always recognize what they're experiencing.
If an Olympian had to push that hard for care, what happens to everyone else?
The backstory
Atlanta, 1996. Two cycling bronze medals.
Turin, 2006. Olympic gold in speed skating.
Vancouver, 2010. Canada's flag-bearer.
For more than two decades, Hughes built her career around physical performance.
Her body was something she trained, instructed and pushed beyond its limits.
Success required discipline. Pain was something to manage. Discomfort was something to overcome.
Even after retiring from Olympic competition, Hughes continued testing her endurance through long-distance cycling and hiking, eventually completing the Pacific Crest Trail, Continental Divide Trail and Appalachian Trail.
But beneath the medals and physical achievements was a more complicated relationship with her body.
Hughes has spoken openly about depression, identity and the emotional demands of elite sport.
She knew how to make her body perform. But she hadn't learned how to listen to it.
The turning point
In 2021, a severe knee injury left Hughes struggling to walk for months.
At the same time, perimenopause brought hot flashes, night sweats and mood changes.
The woman who had built her life around physical performance suddenly couldn't rely on the body she knew.
Movement had long been central to her identity and well-being. Now, even walking had become difficult.
And the symptoms of menopause brought changes that couldn't be managed through training or discipline.
For decades, Hughes had pushed her body to perform under extraordinary pressure.
But menopause wasn't another Olympic event.
There was no training program that could eliminate the symptoms. No finish line to cross. No medal waiting at the end.
In an October 2026 interview with CBC's The Sunday Magazine, Hughes discussed how this period changed her understanding of her body and what it needed.
She was used to pushing through discomfort. This time, pushing through wasn't working.
The bigger problem
Clara Hughes's experience isn't an isolated conversation about one athlete.
It's a window into a much larger gap in women's healthcare.
The Menopause Foundation of Canada found that 95% of women in its survey experienced menopausal symptoms, while 46% felt unprepared for this stage of life.
These symptoms can affect sleep, concentration, mood, physical comfort and everyday functioning.
Yet menopause education, awareness and access to knowledgeable clinicians remain inconsistent across Canada.
Hughes's symptoms pointed to menopause. Her initial treatment focused on depression.
Her history of depression was real, but her menopausal symptoms also required attention.
And getting that attention meant continuing to search for a specialist who could provide appropriate care.
The problem extends beyond diagnosis.
When women don't receive adequate information or support, they are left to manage symptoms while maintaining careers, relationships and responsibilities.
The burden of navigating gaps in healthcare falls on the women experiencing them.
The issue isn't whether women are strong enough to manage their symptoms.
It's whether the healthcare system is equipped to recognize and treat them.
She's done this before
Hughes has challenged silence before.
As a founding spokesperson for Bell Let's Talk, she helped bring depression into the national conversation.
In 2014, she cycled more than 11,000 kilometres across Canada, visiting 105 communities to challenge mental health stigma.
Her message helped reinforce something that had too often been overlooked: achievement and mental illness are not mutually exclusive.
An Olympic champion could win medals and still experience depression.
Success didn't make her immune.
Now, Hughes is bringing that same public attention to menopause, ageing and women's health.
The issues are different, but the underlying challenge is familiar.
For years, mental illness was something people were encouraged to conceal. Menopause has also been treated as a private experience women should simply manage.
Silence doesn't improve care. Visibility can create pressure for change.
By sharing her experience, Hughes is helping make menopause part of a broader public conversation about women's health.
Likely next chapter
Her next chapter isn't about breaking another record.
It's about breaking the belief that strength means enduring everything.
In her 2026 memoir, Learning to Breathe, Hughes examines the physical and emotional cost of a life defined by performance.
Depression. Menopause. Identity. Healing.
The book explores the relationship between her achievements, her mental health and her changing understanding of her body.
It builds on the openness of her earlier memoir, Open Heart, Open Mind, while examining another stage of her life.
For decades, her body was measured by what it could accomplish.
How fast she could move. How far she could go. How much she could endure.
But performance wasn't the same as well-being.
Her latest chapter challenges the idea that physical and emotional strength must always mean pushing harder.
For decades, her body was measured by what it could accomplish.
Now the focus is on what it needs.
The BFT take
We celebrate women for how much they can endure.
How far they can push.
How much they can win.
Clara Hughes spent a lifetime proving what women are capable of.
Six Olympic medals. Two sports. A career built on extraordinary discipline.
Her latest chapter makes a different point.
Even one of Canada's greatest athletes couldn't push her way past the need for appropriate medical care.
And her experience exposes a much larger contradiction.
Women are expected to be resilient. To recognize their symptoms. To find answers. To keep functioning while navigating gaps in the systems meant to support them.
We've made women's resilience the expectation when proper care should be the standard.
That's the business of womanhood.
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