Shelby Houlihan’s return to the track was always going to be controversial. But her swift rise from doping ban to world silver medalist has forced the sport into an uncomfortable spotlight — one where redemption arcs clash with the lingering scent of cheating.
This past weekend, Houlihan won silver in the women’s 3,000m at the World Indoor Championships in China, her first major competition since serving a four-year ban for testing positive for the banned steroid nandrolone. In the final stretch of the race, she surged forward with a powerful kick, overtaking Australia’s Jessica Hull in the last meters to claim second place. The performance was vintage Houlihan — smooth, strong, and tactically sound — a reminder of the immense talent that once made her a national record holder and Olympic hopeful. She remains the North American record holder in the 1,500m, a mark she set at the 2019 World Athletics Championships.
But as Houlihan sailed past the line, the reactions were far from unanimous. For devout fans of the sport — and no doubt for her competitors who watched her pull away in those decisive moments — the question loomed: is her past as a convicted doper still casting a shadow over her present success? Has the legacy of her doping offense continued to shape not only her own performance, but also the competitive integrity of the sport? The collateral damage is difficult to ignore. When a banned athlete returns and thrives, the entire field is left to reckon with the implications.
Curiously, World Athletics has shown little interest in addressing these implications. During the official broadcast of the race, commentators referred only vaguely to Houlihan’s “forced absence,” avoiding any direct mention of her doping ban. The organization’s post-race coverage similarly made no reference to her suspension. In fact, World Athletics appears to have never formally acknowledged Houlihan’s doping infraction on any of its platforms, preferring to defer such matters to its Athlete Integrity Unit. This pattern of silence suggests a broader reluctance to confront the sport’s doping history, let alone its ongoing challenges. In the eyes of World Athletics, it is as if her ban never happened.
The Legacy of Doping — And Its Uncomfortable Truth
Mounting scientific evidence suggests that performance-enhancing drugs may leave permanent physiological benefits long after the drugs have left an athlete’s system.
A notable 2010 study revealed that anabolic steroids can cause lasting changes at the cellular level, particularly by increasing the number of myonuclei in muscle fibers. These are the parts of a muscle cell that help it grow and repair itself. Once added, they stick around for years, making it easier for athletes to build muscle and strength, even after they stop using PEDs.
This so-called legacy effect of doping undermines the assumption that a served ban wipes the slate clean. It also raises a troubling possibility: that clean athletes may be competing at a perpetual disadvantage against those who once used PEDs.
Houlihan is not the first high-profile athlete to face this scrutiny. American sprinter Justin Gatlin served a four-year doping ban and returned to claim multiple world championship medals, including a gold in the 100m at the 2017 World Championships in London. Gatlin’s comeback drew both admiration and ire, his victories accompanied by boos from fans and uncomfortable questions about what it means for a previously banned athlete to return and dominate. His case, like Houlihan’s, laid bare the tensions between the letter of the law and the spirit of fair competition.
Houlihan’s Case: A Flashpoint for the Sport
Houlihan’s positive test came in 2021, just before the Tokyo Olympics. She blamed the result on contaminated pork from a burrito, a defense that was ultimately rejected by the Court of Arbitration for Sport, which upheld the four-year ban. The Court of Arbitration for Sport, or CAS, is the global governing body that has the final say on legal matters in sport, including doping suspensions. Throughout the process, Houlihan has maintained her innocence, insisting she never knowingly used performance-enhancing drugs.
Her case became a cause célèbre, dividing fans and athletes alike between those who believed in her innocence and those who saw it as another chapter in track’s long history of doping.
Now, in her first season back, Houlihan has not only returned but has dominated — winning her debut race in commanding fashion and capturing silver in a championship final. For some, this proves she never needed PEDs. For others, it’s a red flag: a sign that the gains from doping haven’t entirely disappeared.
More troubling still, Houlihan has made it clear she plans to continue competing at the highest levels. She has stated her intent to pursue a spot on the U.S. team for the World Athletics Championships later this year. That means American track and field will have to contend with this divisive situation for the foreseeable future — potentially awarding a place on Team USA to an athlete who is a convicted doper. The issue isn’t going away.
A Sport Caught in Ethical Limbo
Under World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) rules, athletes are eligible to return after serving their bans. In theory, they start fresh. In practice, the sport is caught in an ethical limbo. Allowing banned athletes to return, especially those who immediately resume elite performance, sends a murky message to clean competitors and fans.
It also creates a trust deficit. Track and field, like cycling and weightlifting, has a legacy of repeat offenders and systemic doping scandals. Fans are weary. Fellow athletes are wary. And when a convicted doper returns to the top tier, many question whether the system is truly working.
This erosion of trust has had broader consequences. Doping scandals have chipped away at the popularity of athletics, with even the sport’s most devoted followers struggling to believe that top performances are legitimate. The doubt has stunted the growth of track and field and distance running as viable entertainment sports, as fans increasingly turn away from events they no longer view as fair or credible. In a competitive sports market, sustained skepticism is a serious liability.
World Athletics, the governing body of track and field, has attempted to take matters into its own hands through the creation of its Athlete Integrity Unit. This independent entity oversees anti-doping efforts within the sport and has led targeted initiatives to address doping in high-risk areas, notably Kenya. While the unit has made strides in curbing abuse in certain regions, it remains a relatively small sub-organization with limited resources. Its capacity to enforce compliance on a global scale remains a challenge, and its effectiveness is constrained by budgetary and structural limitations.
A Brewing Cold War in Anti-Doping Enforcement
Complicating matters further is the growing tension between WADA and the United States Anti-Doping Agency (USADA). The United States has raised concerns about WADA’s handling of doping cases, particularly alleging leniency toward influential nations such as China. A focal point of contention is WADA’s management of a 2021 incident involving 23 Chinese swimmers who tested positive for the banned substance trimetazidine. Despite the positive tests, these athletes were permitted to compete in the Tokyo Olympics, a decision that has drawn sharp criticism from USADA and other stakeholders, citing a lack of transparency and accountability.
In response, WADA has highlighted challenges within the U.S. anti-doping framework. The agency points to the U.S. government’s failure to contribute its 2024 dues of $3.625 million, leading to the loss of U.S. representation on WADA’s foundation board and executive committee. This funding lapse underscores the strained relationship and complicates collaborative efforts in global anti-doping initiatives.
This escalating rift has profound implications for the integrity of international sports competitions. The discord not only undermines unified efforts to combat doping but also risks creating a fragmented enforcement landscape where inconsistent standards may prevail. Such divisions can erode athlete confidence in fair competition and diminish public trust in sporting outcomes.
Should There Be Lifetime Bans?
Some argue that lifetime bans are the only way to protect fair competition, especially when science shows that physiological advantages can endure. WADA resists this, citing human rights concerns and proportional punishment. Yet the balance between justice and fairness is tenuous.
Consider this: An athlete who doped during key training years may reap benefits for a decade or more. Meanwhile, clean athletes toil under the knowledge that their competitors may still be racing with an asterisk.
Where Does Track Go From Here?
The sport faces a reckoning. It must decide what kind of competition it wants to uphold. Should banned athletes be allowed to return without acknowledgment or oversight? Should bans for serious violations extend long enough to serve as true deterrents? And should athletes themselves have more of a voice in shaping the rules that govern the integrity of their sport?
Track has a Shelby Houlihan problem. But more broadly, it has a fairness problem — one that won’t go away with silver medals and comeback stories. The sport must choose clarity over confusion, accountability over ambiguity. Because without trust, track is just running in circles.
