If you or someone you know is dealing with suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988 or text “Hopeline” to the National Crisis Text Line at 741-741.
Hundreds of runners pounded past the finish line last fall at the Nuttycombe Invitational. Seconds separated winners from losers on the University of Wisconsin-Madison course.
The athletes ran so fast it was almost easy to miss the green ribbons pinned to most of their jerseys. The UW-Madison women’s team had slipped the ribbons into each school’s welcome packet, along with a note.
“Dear student athletes,” the letter began. “In case you haven’t heard this in a while, you matter.”
The ribbons first appeared at the 2022 invitational, a few months after UW-Madison runner Sarah Shulze died by suicide at 21. A green ribbon is the symbol for mental health awareness.
One of Sarah’s former roommates, Maddie Mooney, came up with the idea as a way to reinforce the stakes.
“For all of the runners who come to this meet, like at least once per season, they get a little reminder that your life is bigger than this race,” she said. “It’s just so easy to get wrapped up in your performance and thinking it’s such a big deal.”
Sarah was a southern California girl whose mom imagines her working in public policy or finishing law school if she were alive today. Instead, her suicide shook the UW-Madison athletic community, serving as a tragic reminder of the stressors facing student-athletes and the consequences when those pressures feel insurmountable. She was one of at least five college athletes nationally who died by suicide in spring 2022.
Experts say there is never a single cause for suicide. In the months leading up to Sarah’s death, her family and friends said she wrestled with a perfectionist personality, a breakup with her boyfriend, a schedule packed so tightly she stopped seeing her counselor and a coach who fostered a win-at-all-costs culture.
Sarah’s death prompted the athletic department to pour more money into mental health resources. Her family channeled their pain into purpose, forming the Sarah Shulze Foundation in her honor. Her friends, too, became mental health advocates.
#James Donaldson notes: Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes. Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use. Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.#http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticle Find out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundation website www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson’s latest book, #CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy
Despite the NCAA’s recent increased focus on mental health, collegiate athlete suicide rates are on the rise, according to a 2024 study. Although the rate remains lower than the general population, researchers said more prevention efforts are warranted. Suicide is now the second most common cause of death among collegiate athletes, second only to accidents.
The pressures on this population only continue to mount. The expansion of the Big Ten this year to include West Coast teams increases travel demands. Social media has opened up athletes to online abuse, especially as more states legalize sports betting. A new era where athletes can monetize their brand creates expectations from companies and collectives for athletes to live up to their endorsement deals.
“It’s not the same environment as 20 to 30 years ago, and it requires a different approach,” said Ellen Staurowsky, a professor of sports media at Ithaca College. But “there’s so few off-ramps in terms of (giving athletes) breathing room.”
Fighting with friends for a chance to compete
Drawn to UW-Madison for its Big Ten sports culture, Sarah dreamed of racing with teammates to beat Michigan and Ohio State.
The reality was far less rah-rah. Sarah more often felt in competition with her teammates than other schools, said her mom, Brigitte Shulze.
During the cross-country season, for example, only seven runners on the 25-person team traveled to meets. Sarah’s times put her on the bubble, sometimes good enough and other times falling short.
“It’s a hard spot to be in,” said Mooney, a former roommate. “It puts a lot of pressure on every race that you can’t have a bad day or mess up.”
Sarah masked the pressure well. Teammates described her as goofy, always the first to crack a joke or fill an awkward silence.
Sarah started running in an elementary school club. She giggled at the back with friends in her first race. They eventually dropped out. She kept going, and started winning.
“She put a lot of expectations on herself,” Brigitte said. “That’s kind of how she fell into running.”
Fitting mental health into a student-athlete’s schedule can be tough
The realities of college and Division I running shocked Sarah almost immediately.
But mental health was rarely, if ever, discussed by the coach, said five of Sarah’s former teammates. The UW athletic department had sports psychologists on staff, but they said the wait to see them was often a month or more. The sessions tended to focus on improving athletic performance.
The psychologists’ central location within the athletic building also created privacy concerns. Mooney was mortified when another student-athlete saw her walk out of a session in tears. Teammate Cailyn Biegalski said she overheard a counseling session while waiting for her own appointment.
UW Athletics said it had no data on average appointment wait time in 2021-22. Online appointments and off-site community providers paid for by the athletic department are available for athletes concerned about privacy.
The department during this time had the equivalent of two full-time in-house mental health providers, as well as contracts with nine community providers, for about 700 athletes. This staffing level was considered the “norm” for that time, UW Athletics mental health director David Lacocque said. It wasn’t until 2016 the NCAA even recommended athletic departments hire counselors internally. The previous model referred athletes to student health centers or contracted providers.
Some athletes may not understand sports psychologists can address all mental health needs, not just performance-related concerns.
“We need to make sure student-athletes are fully educated about what (our) services are,” Lacocque said in an interview. “There’s a never-ending effort to do that.”
Sarah met with a sports psychologist a few times, Brigitte said, but later switched to one of UW’s contracted community providers.
Scheduling time for therapy can be tough for student-athletes, and even more so for runners with no offseason.
Teammate Lexi Westley scheduled her sleep, social life, classes and counseling around training.
“There were times when I would text my therapist to say ‘I can’t this week — can we push it off?’” she said.
Competitive culture created stressor in UW-Madison student-athlete’s life
Sarah’s coaching expectations were dashed from the start. The coach who recruited her to UW-Madison left just days before practice began Sarah’s freshman year. Taking her place was Mackenzie Wartenberger. Teammates described her as an “intense” and “toxic” coach who pitted runners against each other.
Westley said she never had panic attacks until she joined the team. She dreaded one-on-one meetings with Wartenberger and, years later, is still triggered by certain words and phrases the coach said to her.
Westley thought she was the only one. Then another teammate spoke up. That led others, including Sarah, to share their own stories about Wartenberger.
The coach fostered an “unhealthy team environment that went unchecked for way too long by the university,” Brigitte said.
COVID-19 compounded the stress. Wartenberger discouraged runners from socializing outside the team and traveling home, Brigitte said. The threat of the season ending before it even began hung over the team throughout fall 2020.
One bright spot during this time: Online classes freed up some time in Sarah’s schedule, allowing the political science major to intern in the office of state Sen. Chris Larson, D-Milwaukee. It became the highlight of her day.
But with meets scheduled to return in early 2021, Wartenberger told Sarah to drop the internship, her teammates said.
“Her life was supposed to be running,” Brigitte said. “This one thing she had to give up — it was the start of her thinking ‘this is too much.’”
The NCAA survey found mental health problems on the decline compared to the height of COVID-19 but still at relatively high levels, especially among female athletes. The survey also reported a drop in the percentage of female athletes who felt their coaches cared about their well-being, from 72% in 2015 to 59% in 2023.https://www.usatodaynetworkservice.com/tangstatic/html/pmjs/sf-q1a2z330306dc3.min.html
Westley said the athletic department interviewed her as part of an investigation into Wartenberger.
The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel’s public records request for the investigation yielded no paperwork detailing athletes’ complaints, interviews or findings. In a December 2021 letter, the athletic department told Wartenberger her responsibilities, including contact with student-athletes, would be transferred to someone else, without explaining why.
Wartenberger announced on social media in January 2022 she was stepping away from coaching to focus on her family. Reached by phone this year, she declined to answer questions.
UW-Madison also declined to answer questions about Wartenberger.
In final phone call with Sarah, parents learn key detail
Several stressors loomed over Sarah in spring 2022. Wartenberger’s departure left the team in a state of chaos, her teammates said. Sarah was on the heels of a breakup. She was also frustrated by an unexplained, last-minute decision from the men’s coach, who had temporarily taken over the team, to pull her from a travel meet.
It’s no big deal, Brigitte told her on April 6. She suggested Sarah talk with her therapist. That’s when she learned Sarah had stopped seeing the counselor a few months earlier. Sarah told her she didn’t have time, and she felt less stressed after Wartenberger left.
Maybe it’s time to start seeing the therapist again, Brigitte suggested.
Sarah said she had emailed that day for an appointment and learned the next availability was weeks away.
Mooney, Victoria Heiligenthal and another teammate found Sarah unresponsive later that day. They called an ambulance.
The Shulzes arrived at UW Hospital the next morning but Sarah was already on life support. She died April 13.
UW-Madison declined to answer questions about Sarah’s case, citing medical and student privacy laws. Speaking generally, officials said athletes can receive mental health support at any time but the timeliness of the response depends on whether the need is identified as “routine” or “urgent.”
The last time Brigitte saw Sarah alive was over spring break. The two talked about Katie Meyer, a Stanford soccer player who grew up 15 minutes away from the Shulzes and had just died by suicide.
Sarah gave no indication she was having similar thoughts, Brigitte said. She had just gotten into a summer study abroad program and started to imagine life after running.
“It was probably the happiest we’d seen her in a long time,” Brigitte said. “To go from that, to six weeks later she’s no longer with us, it’s so jarring. And I think that’s what’s so shocking about suicide is just how fast it can happen. This perfect storm of events can trigger this avalanche of emotions that they feel like they can’t escape.”
Sarah’s death shocked her team, too. Biegalski thought back to April 4 when the team talked about dresses they planned to wear at an upcoming athletic banquet. Sarah’s was Badger red.
UW athletic department adds liasions, trainings after athlete’s suicide
The traumatized team kept training. They ran past the hospital where Sarah was still on life support. They sprinted up hills, reminding them of Sarah’s hatred for hills. They continued competing, even when other athletes apologized for their loss on the start line.
For some athletes experiencing tragedy, training can protect their mental health by providing structure in a time of uncertainty. For others, it’s more helpful to step away. UW Athletics said it tried carefully messaging both options to the team.
Sarah’s teammates said the message was lost in translation. Biegalski couldn’t recall anyone opting out of practice, though several broke down mid-workout.
A new coach eventually took over the team. Mooney and Heilingthal said she has created a better culture, one where mental health is prioritized.
Among the changes UW Athletics has made since Sarah’s death:
Mental health liaisons: They observe practices, administer mid-semester mental health screenings and lead wellness workshops. They take larger concerns, such as athlete-coach conflicts or mental health crises, up the chain of command.
Mental health first aid: More than 100 athletics staff have taken an eight-hour training on how to respond to students in distress.
More staff: There is now the full-time equivalent of 3.75 in-house mental health providers, up from two. That’s a roughly 1:200 counselor-to-athlete ratio, slightly better than the Big Ten average of 1:224.
The efforts are paying off, according to UW data. About 200 athletes received direct mental health support in 2023-24. In just the first half of this year, the department has seen nearly 200 athletes.
“We’re on pace to have a significantly greater number of total student athletes saying ‘I have concerns, and I want help,'” said Lacocque, the UW Athletics mental health director.
It was on that walk when the Shulzes met Menomonee Falls teenager Nick Ripke for the first time. He came with gratitude and a gift, handing Brigitte a teddy bear.
Months after the surgery, Ripke wanted to do something his heart condition had never allowed. He decided on a 5K race, not knowing his heart previously belonged to a Division I runner.
Brigitte asked Ripke if he planned to keep running. She laughed when he admitted he had no plans to do so. The 5K was plenty.
Brigitte broke into tears. It felt like Sarah’s way of saying she wanted to run just one more time.
Kelly Meyerhofer covers higher education in Wisconsin. Contact her at [email protected] or 414-223-5168. Follow her on X (Twitter) at @KellyMeyerhofer.
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James Donaldson is a Washington State University graduate (’79). After an outstanding basketball career with WSU, he went on to play professional basketball in the NBA with the Seattle Supersonics, San Diego/L.A. Clippers, Dallas Mavericks, New York Knicks, and Utah Jazz. He also played for several teams in the European Leagues in Spain, Italy, and Greece, and he toured with The Harlem Globetrotters to wrap up his career. James was an NBA All-Star in 1988 while playing center for the Dallas Mavericks. In 2006, James was inducted into the Pac-10 Sports Hall of Fame and also the Washington State University Athletic Hall of Fame. In 2010, James was elected as a board member for the NBA Retired Players Association.
James frequently conducts speaking engagements (motivational, inspirational, educational) for organizations, schools, and youth groups.
In 2010, James was the recipient of the NBA Legends of Basketball ABC Award, awarded for outstanding contributions in Athletics–Business–Community.
He believes in being a role model for success and professionalism to the scores of young people to whom he devotes so much of his time. He currently serves on several boards and committees and is a member of many organizations.
James believes in developing relationships that create a “Win-Win” environment for everyone involved, and in being the best he can be!
For more information about James Donaldson or to request he speak at your event, contact him at:
James Donaldson is the author of “Standing Above The Crowd” and “Celebrating Your Gift of Life” and founder of the Your Gift of Life Foundation which focuses on mental health awareness and suicide prevention, especially pertaining to our school aged children and men.
If you’re interested in having James come and speak to your group of young adults, business entrepreneurs, aspiring political and community leaders, and athletic teams, please contact him at [email protected] and or leave a personal message for him at 1-800-745-3161. Keep up with him and read about how he is reaching out and making a difference in the lives of so many around the world at www.yourgiftoflife.org
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