The Hidden Reality: Olympic Athletes Working Regular Jobs to Chase Their Dreams

The Double Life of Elite Athletes

The path to Olympic glory isn’t paved with gold for everyone wearing their country’s colors. While the world watches in awe as athletes compete at the highest level of their sports, many of these extraordinary individuals return from the podium to punch a clock at regular jobs. The 2026 Milan-Cortina Winter Olympics showcased this surprising reality: elite competitors who are also realtors, dentists, baristas, emergency room doctors, and construction workers. These athletes embody a different kind of Olympic spirit—one of determination and sacrifice that extends far beyond their sporting disciplines. Their stories challenge the common perception that reaching the Olympics automatically translates to financial security and reveal a system where passion often outweighs paychecks.

Take Korey Dropkin and Cory Thiesse, both from Duluth, Minnesota, who brought home silver medals in mixed doubles curling. Before traveling to Italy, Dropkin described his reality to local news: “I have two full-time jobs. One is curling… my other job is a realtor.” His partner Thiesse works as a wastewater tester. “I feel grateful that I have a job that pays the bills while I go compete in curling,” she explained. Their situation isn’t unusual—the International Olympic Committee acknowledged that “a significant proportion of Winter Olympic athletes” balance their elite training with academic pursuits and professional careers. This balancing act exists because while household names in the Olympic world secure multimillion-dollar sponsorship deals, they represent the exception rather than the rule. The majority of Olympic athletes face a stark financial reality that requires creative solutions and unwavering dedication.

From Operating Rooms to Olympic Slopes

The diversity of professions among Olympians is remarkable. Tara Peterson of the U.S. curling team is a licensed dentist who practices at Isaacson Gentle Dentistry in White Bear Lake, Minnesota. This dual identity—Olympic athlete and healthcare professional—demonstrates the intellectual and physical capabilities these individuals possess. The phenomenon isn’t limited to American athletes either. Mexico’s Regina Martínez made history as her country’s first Olympic cross-country skier while working as an emergency room doctor in Miami, Florida. Even more striking, Martínez revealed through social media that she also walked dogs to finance her Olympic journey, showing how even highly-educated professionals in demanding careers sometimes need additional income streams to support their athletic dreams.

These stories illuminate an important truth: the Olympics celebrate human excellence, but that excellence often comes at a significant personal cost. These athletes don’t just train for competition—they schedule that training around work shifts, professional obligations, and the realities of paying rent and managing student loans. Their commitment level is exponentially higher than athletes who can focus solely on their sport, yet they compete on equal footing at the world’s most prestigious sporting event. The determination required to succeed under these circumstances is extraordinary, perhaps representing a different, equally impressive form of Olympic achievement.

The Financial Landscape of Olympic Competition

Understanding why so many Olympians need second jobs requires examining how Olympic athletes are compensated. The International Olympic Committee itself doesn’t award prize money to medalists, leaving that responsibility to individual countries’ national Olympic bodies. In the United States, the Olympic and Paralympic Committee provides cash bonuses to medalists: $37,500 for gold, $22,500 for silver, and $15,000 for bronze. While these amounts sound substantial, they represent the culmination of years—sometimes decades—of training, travel, equipment costs, and competition expenses that athletes must cover themselves.

This financial reality prompted business leader Ross Stevens, CEO of Stone Ridge Holdings Group, to make an unprecedented commitment in 2025. He pledged to give every U.S. Olympian $200,000 in financial benefits for each Olympics in which they compete. “The Olympic and Paralympic Games are the ultimate symbol of human excellence,” Stevens stated. “I do not believe that financial insecurity should stop our nation’s elite athletes from breaking through to new frontiers of excellence.” This generous initiative acknowledges what many have long recognized: the financial structure supporting Olympic athletes is inadequate for the dedication and sacrifice required to compete at this level.

The disparity between top earners and average Olympians is staggering. American snowboarder Chloe Kim earns millions annually through endorsements and sponsorships, while freestyle skier Eileen Gu earned $23 million over twelve months, according to Forbes. Summer Olympians in high-profile sports like basketball, golf, and tennis rank among the highest-paid athletes globally, benefiting from sports with massive viewership and commercial appeal. Meanwhile, winter sports athletes, particularly those in less visible disciplines like curling, ski jumping, or snowboard cross, struggle to attract comparable sponsorship dollars. This creates a two-tiered system where Olympic excellence doesn’t guarantee financial stability, and the sport you choose can determine whether you’ll need that second job.

Blue-Collar Dreams and Olympic Gold

Perhaps no one embodies the working athlete’s journey better than Nick Baumgartner, the 44-year-old snowboarder who calls himself the “#BlueCollarOlympian” on social media. During off-seasons, Baumgartner poured concrete to finance his snowboarding career, work that took a serious toll on his body. “It’s always been tough,” he told CBS News. “But you either believe the excuses, or you find a way to make it happen. And for me, concrete, which is a terribly hard job, it’s hard on the back, it’s hard on the body, but for me, it was my way to do this.” His routine involved working intensely during summer months to save money, then getting laid off when winter arrived, collecting unemployment benefits, and using that time to train and compete.

Winning gold at the 2022 Winter Olympics in mixed snowboard cross alongside teammate Lindsey Jacobellis transformed Baumgartner’s financial situation. The victory elevated his profile enough to secure work as a keynote speaker at corporate events, allowing him to “make money without destroying my body.” As he bluntly put it, “pouring concrete and staying young… they don’t mix.” Now, at the 2026 Olympics where he placed seventh in snowboard cross, Baumgartner’s journey represents both inspiration and a cautionary tale. His success story is real, but it came after years of physical punishment and financial uncertainty, raising questions about how many talented athletes never make it because they couldn’t sustain the dual demands of work and world-class training.

Similarly, alpine skier Ryan Cochran-Siegle, who won silver in the Super-G event, balances his athletic career with studying engineering at the University of Vermont while working at his family’s maple syrup business, Cochran’s Slopeside Syrup. Keely Cashman, who placed 15th in Super Giant Slalom, works as a barista at The Serene Bean, her family’s coffee shop in Pinecrest, California. Cashman openly addresses her financial challenges on her website, where she sells merchandise to subsidize training and travel costs. “Unfortunately, some of the costs that come with training and competing at the highest level are not covered by the national governing body,” she explains. “By supporting me, you’re helping me chase this dream and allowing me to continue competing at the highest level.”

Finding Balance Between Books, Work, and Competition

Some athletes find that their non-athletic pursuits actually enhance their competitive performance. Paige Jones, a U.S. Olympic ski jumper studying biomedical engineering at the University of North Dakota, described how academic work provides essential mental balance. “I always think of school as a balance to my life as an athlete,” Jones told UND Today. “It gives me something to think about when I’m not on the hill. I don’t want to be ruminating about ski jumping all the time—it’s so easy to get in your head, especially when the jump only lasts about five seconds.” This perspective reveals an often-overlooked benefit of the multi-career Olympic life: diversification of identity and purpose can actually reduce performance pressure and provide perspective that purely professional athletes might lack.

These dual careers also represent pragmatic planning for life after competition. Athletic careers are notoriously brief, and injuries can end them instantly. Having professional credentials, work experience, and education provides a foundation for the decades of life that follow the relatively few years of elite competition. While it might seem that dividing focus between work and sport would diminish performance, these athletes prove otherwise—they’re competing at the Olympics, after all, alongside peers who train full-time. Their ability to succeed under these conditions speaks to exceptional time management, mental toughness, and genuine passion for their sport that transcends financial incentives.

Reimagining Support for Olympic Excellence

The stories of working Olympians raise important questions about how society values and supports athletic excellence. These athletes represent their nations, inspire millions, and dedicate their lives to pursuing human performance limits, yet many struggle financially. The current system essentially asks athletes to subsidize their own Olympic participation through second jobs, family support, personal debt, or sheer financial sacrifice. While initiatives like Ross Stevens’ $200,000 commitment represent progress, they rely on private philanthropy rather than systemic change.

The contrast between sports is particularly striking. Summer Olympic athletes in commercially popular sports rarely face these challenges, while winter sport athletes in less visible disciplines almost expect financial struggle as part of their journey. This disparity suggests that Olympic support systems could benefit from more equitable resource distribution, ensuring that an athlete’s financial security doesn’t depend primarily on whether their sport attracts television viewers and sponsors. As we celebrate Olympic achievements, perhaps we should also celebrate and better support the baristas, realtors, dentists, and construction workers who pursue excellence on their own terms, proving that Olympic dreams don’t require Olympic budgets—just extraordinary determination, sacrifice, and heart.