Your inbox approves Men's coaches poll Women's coaches poll Play to win 25K!
OLYMPICS
Transgender People

Transgender athlete Chris Mosier worries about competing in North Carolina

Scott Gleeson
USA TODAY Sports

Chris Mosier is mere weeks from the chance to fulfill yet another athletic dream.

Chris Mosier is an American transgender advocate, triathlete and speaker.

After earning a spot on the U.S. sprint duathlon men’s team for the 2016 International Triathlon Union world championships — which take place in Spain in June — he now can qualify for Team USA for the 2017 Long Distance Duathlon World Championships.

He needs to finish in the top 18 of his age group at this year’s national championships, a run-bike-run race on May 14 as part of the Cary Du Classic in Cary, N.C.

But he’ll be struck with a deeply painful personal dilemma when he arrives in North Carolina.

When religion and the LGBT collegiate athlete collide

"Who doesn't want to compete for their country at the highest level?" he said, giddy with excitement.

Then he pauses as emotion filters in.

"But I won’t even be able to use the restroom,” he said, exhaling in sadness.

Mosier, who is transgender, is referring to North Carolina’s controversial new law that requires transgender people to use public bathrooms that match their gender at birth.

“I feel like I need to be concerned for my well-being” in North Carolina, he said. “I’m not as concerned in the race. But I’m going to be in the state where I don’t feel a lot of love. There’s the hotel, a restaurant. Anything can happen. ...

“I’m competing because I’m not going to let this interfere with my goal of making Team USA. But what about the (transgender) people who don’t have the option to leave? I’m hurting for them just thinking about it.”

Mosier is breaking down walls as a transgender male athlete and advocate.

Using his sport as a platform, Mosier is attempting to change the way people view the transgender community — particularly those who transition from female to male. He’s the founder of transathlete.com, a resource for students, athletes, coaches and administrators to find information about trans inclusion in athletics. He also is the executive director of GO! Athletes, a national network of former LGBTQ high school and college athletes who try to create safer places in athletics.

Mosier’s biggest triumphs have come in helping engineer the creation and adoption of the new International Olympic Committee guidelines for participation of transgender athletes. Under the previous recommendations, both “internal and external genitalia changes” were a condition for both male-to-female and female-to-male athletes. The change removed the requirement for surgery.

For his race in May, he’s about to enter an emotional storm.

“I should be thinking about training and getting ready to achieve my goal, but (North Carolina’s law) is weighing heavily on my mind,” Mosier said. “I can’t pretend the race isn’t in North Carolina. I’ve learned hiding or burying the pain only makes it worse. You have to face it.”

Mosier, 35, decided it was time to stop hiding in 2010. He legally changed his name and began receiving testosterone injections. After nearly three decades of agony — he says he was 4 years old when he realized that his gender identity and biological sex did not match — Mosier finally became the man he’s known in his heart for his entire life.

Chris Mosier, shown here with LGBTQ activist Helen Caroll, speaks at the NCAA's Inclusion Forum in Indianapolis.

“I always have been a man inside,” said Mosier, who married his wife, Zhen Heinemann, in 2012. “There are a lot of things to consider before coming out and it’s mostly worrying about how it will affect the people around you. It was managing other people’s thoughts and expectations. Or their perceived thoughts. I was worried about telling my mom. I was terrified of going into work. It was that and potentially giving up a sport I loved. You kind of have to give everything up to be your authentic self. It’s a leap of faith.”

In transitioning, he gave up his top ranking in the women’s triathlon category.

“I think there’s this ignorant misconception that when someone transitions in sports it’s for a competitive advantage. That’s generally the thought when a man transitions to being a woman,” Mosier said. “No, it’s to be free from pain. I think me competing as a man can show rule-makers any trans athlete who’s hiding, dying inside is the one with a disadvantage.”

Mosier, who averages 10 training workouts a week between running, cycling and strength conditioning, consistently places in the top third of his events and anticipates he’ll do the same in Cary. The race involves a five-mile run, a 33-mile bike ride, then another five-mile run. (The sprint duathlon is a 1.5-mile run, a 14-mile bike ride and another 1.5-mile run.)

Mosier said the biggest issue with the perception of the transgender community is most people don’t have a face to humanize the individual who’s been through or is going through emotional turmoil.

“There’s not just one way or one path,” he said. “There’s this stereotype that’s simply not true.”

Mosier believes that by competing in Cary, he can be a face for change to a law driven, in part, by concerns about sexual predators that he calls a “ridiculous policy” and a “terrible mistake.”

“The saddest part is I don’t get the feeling it’s actually the people of North Carolina that want this law,” Mosier said. “It’s a lack of understanding from the top, at the lawmaker level. They’re operating in a place of fear and it perpetuates the stereotype even more.

“There’s misinformation and there’s really not a clear reason for this type of discrimination to happen. Where have there been cases of violence in restrooms? What happens when people operate in fear is they are the ones doing the hurting ...

“When I go to the restroom, trust me, I just want to pee.”

Featured Weekly Ad