FLINT, Mich.– Claressa Shields has her next opponent in the boxing ring.

The “GWOAT” will defend her Undisputed Heavyweight Championship against former IBF Heavyweight Champ and current IBF Light Heavyweight Champ Lani Daniels on July 26 at Little Caesars Arena.

Shields joined sports director Alex Eisman to discuss the announcement, her fight prep, and more.

Hear from Salita Promotions President Dmitriy Salita on the fight announcement:

Shields’ fight will be the first ever defense of an Undisputed Women’s Heavyweight title.

The UK is facing what charities are calling an eating disorder epidemic, with an estimated 1.25 million people affected. These conditions have the highest mortality rate of any mental health illness, making early intervention and education urgent.

Yet, within the world of sport, eating disorders often go undetected and unchallenged. Disordered behaviour, such as restricting food intake, purging, binge eating, or abusing laxatives, are sometimes normalised in competitive environments, embedded into routines and disguised as dedication.

Eating disorders thrive in silence. They’re secretive, isolating and can affect athletes of all genders, ages and backgrounds, whether at grassroots or elite levels.

In sport, several factors can trigger or worsen disordered behaviour: pressure to perform, body dissatisfaction, weight-category requirements and cultural ideals of what an “athletic” body should look like.

In this context, harmful practices like dehydration, extreme weight-cutting and overtraining often become accepted – and are sometimes even encouraged.

Read more:
How fighters make weight in combat sports – and regain it for the match

In some sports, the risks are tragically clear. Take bodybuilding. One heartbreaking example is 20-year-old Jodi Vance, who died from heart failure caused by dehydration during preparations for a competition.

In combat sports and martial arts, eating disorders are frequently acknowledged, yet meaningful solutions are rarely discussed. Fighters like Paige VanZant and Kay Hansen have openly shared their struggles with disordered eating, which in many sports, is still dismissed as just “part of the process”.

Extreme tactics

Even worse, some coaches perpetuate a toxic culture by fat-shaming athletes or joking about serious conditions like bulimia. In such environments, young athletes can become trapped in cycles of physical and emotional harm.

In my own research with UK-based mixed martial arts (MMA) fighters, I spent months observing and interviewing athletes across various gyms. Many described extreme weight-loss tactics before fights – dropping both fat and water weight in dangerously short time frames. These methods took a toll on both their bodies and mental health.

I witnessed fighters collapse from exhaustion and dehydration. I heard coaches make jokes about eating disorders. One fighter told me: “I don’t even recognise myself anymore,” echoing the public experiences of UFC fighter Paddy Pimblett, who has shared his struggles with binge eating and body image.

These stories hit close to home.

During my own time in MMA, I developed atypical anorexia, bulimia and binge eating disorder. I was praised for rapid weight loss – not for my skill or performance. At one point, I was training to the point of experiencing heart palpitations, dizziness and nausea. Yet, these symptoms were brushed off as signs of “good training”.

Eating disorders don’t discriminate

Even when I lived in a larger body, I was still suffering from an eating disorder. This is a crucial reminder: you cannot tell if someone is unwell just by looking at them. This isn’t just an issue in fight sports. Disordered eating affects athletes across many disciplines.

Footballer Katrina Gorry, cricketer Freddy Flintoff and cyclist Davide Cimolai are just a few high-profile athletes who have spoken publicly about their experiences.

In fact, disordered thoughts can affect athletes at any stage of their careers. Today, even after competing internationally in American football and Australian rules football, I still live with disordered thinking around food and body image.

Elite female athletes can be particularly vulnerable. According to the 2023 female athlete health report, 74% of respondents said they didn’t feel like they looked like an athlete and 91% worried about their calorie intake.

The 2024 BBC study on elite British sportswomen found similar results, reflecting the persistent pressure to conform to narrow body ideals.

Read more:
Elite female athletes at greater risk of eating disorders

There have been some encouraging policy changes. In MMA, emergency rules now ban extreme weight-cutting methods like IV rehydration, where fluids and electrolytes are administered directly into a vein, bypassing the digestive system. British Gymnastics, the body governing competitive gymnastics in the UK, has banned coaches from weighing athletes – a major move given the sport’s documented issues.

However, these steps are just the beginning. Power imbalances still exist across many sports, where coaches wield enormous influence over an athlete’s health, body and sense of self.

Coaches can either be a force for recovery – or part of the problem. They must be better trained to spot early signs of disordered behaviour, provide support and promote a culture that values mental wellbeing over appearance.

To create safer sporting environments, we need better signposting for athletes on how to get help, education for coaches and staff on eating disorder awareness, a cultural shift from bodily perfection and towards sustainable performance and health and athlete-first policies that protect both physical and mental wellbeing.

Recovery is possible. But prevention – through awareness, education and empathy – can save lives long before treatment is ever needed.

Sport should be a place for strength, growth and resilience – not hidden harm.

If anything in this article causes distress or concern about eating disorders, visit the BEAT website for more information and support.

As the 2024-25 school year comes to an end, we honor the senior athletes who have graduated from WSU and are leaving Pullman for bigger and better things. This is the 2024-25 Daily Evergreen senior athlete farewell series.

Ashley Hollenbeck Willems was a senior sprinter who came to WSU in 2021 when she began running the 60-meter sprints. Her first meet as a Cougar was the Spokane Invitational on December 11, 2021.

She earned her first top-ten finish in the 2022 Lauren McCluskey Invitational with a time of 7.94 seconds. She earned her first top-three finish when she finished second at the 2022 Sam Adams Classic with a time of 12.44 seconds in the 100-meter sprint.

In 2023, she began to compete in more events, moving into the 200-meter and 300-meter events. In 2024, she won her first events.

She won the 100-meter sprint in the 2024 Sam Adams Classic with a time of 12.27 seconds. She followed that up with two more first-place finishes, winning the 200-meter race in the 2024 Whitworth Peace Meet and the 100-meter race in the 2024 Whitworth Twilight and Alumni Meet.

In 202,5 as a senior, Hollenbeck Willems won the 60-meter spring in the Inland Northwest Invitational. She was also part of the 4×100 relay team that won first place two weeks ago at the Cougar Classic.

Off the racetrack, Hollenbeck Willems met her husband, Ethan Willems on the WSU track team. They were married in June of 2024. Ethan Willems was also a sprinter for the WSU track team.

Miami Heat veteran Kevin Love continues to use his voice away from the court.

His organization, the Kevin Love Fund, announced the release of the Athlete Mental Health Program. The program is dedicated to developing safe environments and conducting activities to fuel better mental health for athletes. It features mental health professionals, sports psychologists, and former athletes in a collaborative effort to improve mental awareness in the sports world.

Love’s Fund describes the program as an “evidence-based curriculum created to help athletes explore their identities beyond sport and strengthen their mental and emotional well-being.”

Love expressed his personal journey that fuels his passion for this ongoing movement. He sat down with Miami Heat On SI to discuss the program.

“I’ve spoken a lot in the past about my identity and who I am being so tied to sports, and so much of this is about that identity development,” Love said. “It’s helping athletes explore who they are outside of the sport, and helping them stay present and balanced.”

He discussed the importance of athletes exploring their identities and value outside of their athletic products.

“Being able to have that understanding that we are more than the sport that we play is incredibly important,” Love said. “I think has allowed me to empathize with others who might feel the same.”

LeBron James’ Early Exit Keeps Miami Heat Tenure Atop The List

Miami Heat Veteran Downplays Value Of Cavaliers’ Darius Garland

Jayden Armant is a graduate of the Howard University School of Communications and a contributor to Miami Heat on SI. He can be reached at jaydenshome14@gmail.com or follow him on Twitter @jaydenarmant.

I answered the phone to the sound of the outdoors—a calm but welcoming voice on the other line. “The Pacific Northwest grass is different than in Miami,” NBA star Kevin Love said, speaking from his parents’ home days after the Miami Heat lost to the Cavaliers in Game 1 of their playoff series—a game Kevin sat out for personal reasons.

I asked him to paint a picture of the human behind the Kevin Love Fund (KLF)’s newly announced Athlete Mental Health Program, a project poised to impact more lives than his NBA career ever could. Kevin described himself bundled in a hoodie and sweatpants despite the Oregon sun. Shoes and socks off, he laughed. These weren’t his usual interview questions.

The Kevin Love Fund Story

I told Kevin I wanted to focus on the stories behind the KLF and Athlete Mental Health Program’s creation—the moments that led him here. While his story’s been shared before, he returned to themes of unpacking expectations and trauma.

“I felt like I had to hide. I had to go into myself and try to compartmentalize. I asked myself, am I going to be exposed? Are people going to find things out about me that I’m not ready to tell?”

In March 2018, Kevin published a first-person essay—Everyone Is Going Through Something—recounting his panic attack and mental health journey. The response was overwhelming. Readers opened up, sharing their own struggles. That moment revealed something bigger at stake.

Inspired, Kevin founded KLF, a nonprofit built on the belief that education is most powerful when it models vulnerability. Healing, he believes, begins when people are empowered to find identity beyond sport.

KLF now transforms how we understand and talk about mental health—especially in athletics. Through storytelling, education, and evidence-based tools, KLF helps athletes and communities navigate both the high-pressure world of sport and the often-overlooked transition beyond it.

The Athlete Mental Health Program Story

On May 1, 2025, the KLF launches a free, evidence-based mental health program for athletes to foster identity beyond sport. The Athlete Mental Health Program includes lessons on identity development, tools for performance anxiety and stress, and creating conversations around mental and emotional well-being in sports. Built with input from sport psychologists, educators, and former athletes, it equips coaches and broader sports communities to support the whole person—not just the competitor.

The KLF Athlete Mental Health Program is grounded in over a decade of research on reciprocal vulnerability—the idea that when adults model emotional openness, youth are more likely to engage in meaningful mental health conversations (Dutro, 2009; 2011; 2019; Foster, 2022).

The Athlete Mental Health Program is now freely available to educators, coaches, trainers, and anyone supporting student-athletes. For more information or to access the curriculum, visit: https://kevinlovefund.org/

A Story About Success

When I asked Kevin to share a story that reflects the Fund’s success, he hesitated, deferring to his publicist for the “numbers.” But then he smiled.

He recalled the 2018 article: “If I could help even one child managing the same expectations I had at 13 or 14, it would be worth it.” KLF continues to honor that vision—ensuring no athlete feels alone in their mental health struggles the way he once did.

The publicist later shared the numbers: KLF’s SEL curriculum has reached over 130,000 students and 1,900 educators across 1,200+ schools and programs in 32 states and 19 countries.

A Story About Regret

When I asked Kevin to share a story about regret, he didn’t flinch.

“There are things I’ve said or done that I’d take back,” he said. But more often, regret stemmed from what he didn’t do.

He recalled a teacher who once urged him to take a different path. Years later, he wrote that teacher a letter—acknowledging the truth in their advice.

“My regret is that I didn’t act sooner to help myself heal. Whether because I was young, shaped by a hypermasculine culture, or raised by a father born in 1949 who didn’t know another way. Vulnerability wasn’t modeled—it was avoided.”

He reflected on the generational silence around emotion. “I wish I’d been comfortable enough in my skin to realize vulnerability could be a superpower.”

A Story About Being on the Right Path

Kevin said he knew he was on the right path once his story was accepted—celebrated, even.

He paused on the word “celebrated,” aware of its weight. “I’m a product of sharing my story—just like DeMar DeRozan was. It’s healthy to celebrate people who take a chance for the greater good.”

One moment sealed it. At games, kids started holding signs—not about basketball, but mental health. Kevin asked security to bring those families to him. “I’d ask, How did you get here? Why did you make the sign?” And the stories he heard—stories of resilience and shared pain—shifted something in him.

“That’s when I knew this was bigger than basketball. It changed the trajectory of my life.”

An Untold Story

“This whole process—expressing some, not all (yet), of my mental health struggles—has made me more comfortable in my own skin,” Kevin said.

He told a lesser-known story from his early days with his now-wife. His social anxiety was so severe, he couldn’t go out—not even to dinner. “My wife can tell you—when we first started dating, I couldn’t go to a restaurant.”

It wasn’t just discomfort. It was agoraphobia—fear of public embarrassment or collapse. “At any moment, I could fall apart disproportionately to the situation.”

His world shrank: gym, then home—places he could control. But over time, he did the work.

“I’m flawed. I’m still working on it. I’m not a finished project. But I’m more settled now. I’m human. Just a guy—not just an athlete.”

That acceptance, he said, lets him engage in life in ways that once felt out of reach.

A Story (Almost) Told Too Late

I didn’t ask what he’d tell his 13-year-old self—he offered it anyway.

“Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say. I wish I’d spoken my truth sooner. I let things get to a place that felt life-threatening.”

Silence nearly cost him everything. But breaking it? It opened doors—for himself and others. “Speaking up helped me see red flags before spiraling. Vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s often the first step to saving a life.”

The Final Story

At the start of the interview, I told Kevin I wanted to reveal the human behind the KLF Athlete Mental Health Fund. I wanted to move beyond the headlines and game highlights. And I did.

But what lingered most wasn’t just the curriculum, or the program reach, or the quotes.

It was the image of Kevin barefoot in his parents’ Oregon yard—finding peace. Not as an NBA champion. Not as a mental health advocate. Just a guy who’s still doing the work, showing up, and reminding the world:

“Athletics can be a defining part of life—but it should not define your entire identity.”

Shortly after the interview, Kevin’s beloved father, Stan Love, passed away at the age of 76. May he rest in peace.