I Don't Need a Medal, I Just Need to Be Present

What Alysa Liu's Olympic Return Confirmed About Marketing with Purpose

Last night, Oakland's own Alysa Liu stood on Olympic ice and landed one of the hardest combinations any woman attempted that night—a triple lutz-triple loop. She scored a personal-best 76.59 and finished third going into the free skate. But what happened after her stunning performance is what really matters.

In the mixed zone, still catching her breath, she said something that made me stop scrolling: "I don't need a medal. I just need to be here, and I just need to be present."

Then, while she was talking to reporters, her teammate Amber Glenn struggled on the ice above them. Alysa looked genuinely concerned. "She's gone through so much and she works so freaking hard," she said. "I just want her to be happy. Like, that's genuinely all I want."

As of writing this article, she's in third place after the short program. She just landed one of the hardest combinations of the night. And she's worried about her teammate and friend.

The Way Back

Alysa didn't take the traditional path. She retired at 16 after hating skating. The pressure, the expectations, the relentless grind of being told what to do—it crushed the joy out of something she once loved. So, she walked away.

At 18, she decided to come back, but this time, on her own terms. She insisted on complete creative control. She chose her own music. She helped design the creative process. She even showed up with tree-ringed-striped hair and said, "I want people to see everything about me."

At last year's World Championships, she skated to Donna Summer's "MacArthur Park" so joyfully that the crowd was dancing. She cartwheeled onto the ice. She won gold. And when people asked her about the pressure of defending that title at the Olympics, she told NBC: "I'm really confident in myself. Even if I might slip and fall, like, that's totally OK too. I'm fine with any outcome."

She even said something most elite athletes would never admit: "I love struggling actually, it makes me feel alive."

What this Confirms About how We Work

I didn't plan to become a marketer. I fell into it. But somewhere along the way, I discovered something that keeps me engaged: I love learning new techniques, and I don't stress when things go sideways, because that's where a lot of education is derived.

But here's what really matters—my strength is focus, especially on products I can genuinely champion that meet and support customer needs. I can't fake enthusiasm for something I don't believe in. And I've learned not to try.

Watching Alysa at the Olympics confirmed something I've always known but don't always articulate: when you're focused on what genuinely matters—whether that's being present on the ice or championing products that help customers—the outcomes take care of themselves.

Presence Over Performance

After landing that triple lutz-triple loop, Alysa said: "I can't even describe how different it is. I mean, just the fact that my family and friends are here... and the fact that I am here with programs that I love and I'm proud of enough to show people... I love my dresses a lot."

She cares more about being proud of her work and having her family there than whether she wins gold. That's not lack of ambition—it's clarity about what actually matters.

In marketing, we're drowning in metrics. Open rates, click-through rates, conversion rates, engagement rates. Dashboard after dashboard of numbers that supposedly tell us if we're "winning." But how often do we stop and ask: Are we proud of this work? Does this actually help the customer? Would we champion this product to our own family?

When you focus on products you genuinely believe in, the metrics become feedback, not judgment. When a campaign goes sideways—and they will—you're not scrambling to defend a weak product or justify tactics you never believed in. You're learning. You're adjusting. You're getting better at connecting something valuable with the people who need it.

The Oakland Way

Alysa is hella Oakland. So am I. There's something about this city—scrappy, authentic, unpretentious—that shows up in how we approach our work. We don't do things because that's how they've always been done. We choose to do them because they work, or because we believe in them, or because we're curious to see what happens.

Alysa came back to skating on her terms. Ringed hair. Donna Summer and Laufey. Programs she loves. She's skating for herself, not for some idealized version of what a figure skater should be.

That's what Oakland instils in you—be yourself, do good work, and don't pretend to be something you're not. It works on Olympic ice. It works in my work, too.

Learning from the Struggle

"I love struggling actually, it makes me feel alive."

When Alysa said that I felt it. Not because struggle is inherently good, but because struggle is where you learn whether you actually care about what you're doing.

When things go sideways in marketing—and they often do—you have two choices. You can panic, defend, blame the algorithm or the budget or the timing. Or you can get curious. What didn't work? Why? What does this teach me about the customer, the product, or my approach?

I don't stress when campaigns go sideways because I know the product is solid. I'm not defending something I don't believe in. I’ve learned to create contingencies. I'm learning better ways to connect it with people who need it. That's the difference between performance anxiety and genuine engagement with your craft.

Champion what You Believe In

The marketing world loves to talk about "authenticity" and "customer-centricity," but many marketers are stuck promoting products they don't actually believe in, using tactics they've been told to use, chasing metrics that don't mean anything.

Alysa's approach confirmed what I've always known: you can't fake it. She couldn't fake loving skating when she hated it, so she left. When she came back, she did it on terms she could genuinely champion—her music, her programs, her authentic self.

In marketing, that means being selective. Not every product deserves your talent. Not every tactic deserves your creativity. Find the products that genuinely meet customer needs. Champion those.

When you work this way, something shifts. You stop performing marketing and start practicing it. You develop focus. You get better at your craft. And when things go sideways—which they will—you're not defensive. You're educated and agile.

Being Present

"I don't need a medal. I just need to be here, and I just need to be present."

As I write this, Alysa Liu is in third place at the Olympics. She might medal. She might not. But she's already won something more valuable—she's present in her work, proud of what she's putting out there, and genuinely concerned about her teammates' happiness.

That's what marketing with purpose looks like. Not chasing awards or vanity metrics. Not performing for the algorithm. Just being present, championing products you believe in, learning from the sideways moments, and staying focused on what actually helps customers.

Oakland to the Olympics. Marketing to serving real customer needs. Different arenas, same truth: when you're present in work you believe in, everything else takes care of itself.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a long-form skate to watch.