
Step into Jenny Simpson’s house, and the visitor would have no clue they’ve entered the home one of the greatest women’s middle-distance runners in American history.
There are no trophies on the shelves. No medals dangling from the walls. No photos of Simpson flashing her familiar smile at the finish line of another victorious race.
Itap not that Simpson isn’t proud of her accomplishments. Runners of Simpson’s status don’t typically waste time looking back. They’re always looking forward.
Simpson is still looking forward. Even if itap toward a future she never envisioned.
An , Simpson is happy just to be looking forward at all, after suffering a cardiac event in June that would have ended her life if not for the quick actions of a few medically trained bystanders. As she adjusts to life without running, Simpson’s penchant for looking ahead also now includes a different appreciation of the past.
“If you came into my house and looked for my Olympic medal, or trophies or things like that, the only thing I have up is I framed the American flag that I went around the Olympic stadium with,” Simpson said. “It doesn’t have a label on it. You wouldn’t necessarily know that itap significant to us other than itap just a flag up on the wall. After this event, and also knowing all of the things that I wanted to achieve in running are now absolutely, that chapter is closed.
“I feel a greater desire to kind of take the accomplishments, even in the way they’re represented through these medals and trophies and trinkets, I have a greater desire to kind of bring them out of the dark and have them out. Not just for me to enjoy, but for everyone to see and appreciate a life that I had that I’m so proud of. Because we know itap over now.”
Even amid a Colorado track and cross country alumni list full of running luminaries, Simpson stands out.
Back when she was still Jenny Barringer, she won four individual NCAA championships for the Buffaloes — three in the steeplechase, one in the indoor 3,000-meter run. She competed in her first Olympics in 2008 while still running for CU, finishing eighth in the steeplechase in Beijing. By the time she competed in the 2012 Games in London, her primary event had shifted to the 1,500. Simpson finished 17th.
Simpson and fellow former Buff Emma Coburn, with their former CU coaches Mark Wetmore and Heather Burroughs mentoring them along the way, made history at the 2016 Games in Rio de Janeiro, becoming the first American women to earn medals in their respective events — Simpson in the 1,500 and Coburn in the steeplechase. Both women won bronze, and Simpson added a silver medal at the World Championships the following year.
Thatap what made the events of June 16 so improbable.
Simpson set the pace in a one-mile run in Raleigh, North Carolina, for a group of middle schoolers aiming to set their own personal bests. It was a light workout for Simpson, but afterward she collapsed.
She went into cardiac arrest. Medical personnel and an AED on-site revived Simpson enough to transport her to a hospital, where more critical-care procedures continued to save her life. Simpson soon was diagnosed with arrhythmogenic right ventricular cardiomyopathy (ARVC). Not only did Simpson awake to a world where running no longer was an option, but even getting her heart rate increased could prove fatal.
Now living with a pacemaker and defibrillator, Simpson remembers nothing of that day, a Tuesday. Her Monday memories remain sketchy as well, but her last clear recollection is going for a morning run with her friend Ivy Pointer. Pointer is an ICU physician and was one of the bystanders who saved Simpson’s life the following day.
Fans probably picture Simpson blazing around a track full of both fans and medical personnel, as was the case in June. The reality is the incident that occurred in June could have struck Simpson at any mile-marker along the way. And most of her training over the years has happened in isolation, along desolate trails in Boulder County and beyond. That it indeed happened where medical personnel and cardiac equipment were present completely bucked the odds.
“I am here today because bystanders stepped in and did CPR and had an AED,” Simpson said. “Only one in 10 cardiac arrests outside a hospital survive. Itap more about thinking about the runs I do with my husband, or when I went out and ran alone. If you take the proportion of time I spent running in a stadium versus the time I spent running in the mountains, it was more likely that I would have had this happen where there wasn’t help.”
Simpson already had been easing into her post-professional life. She announced her retirement from competitive running ahead of the 2024 New York City Marathon, making that her final pro race. Simpson and her husband spent 2025 traveling the country, living in an RV with their two dogs as they spent a week in each state running and reconnecting with old friends.
Simpson is grateful for the “life-maxing” she experienced in 2025. As for whatap next, though, Simpson still is sorting that out.

She has dabbled in coaching, serving as a volunteer assistant at CU under Wetmore. Simpson has been working as the chief running officer for Fleet Feet, and she had moved to North Carolina following the 2025 travels to work out of the company’s Raleigh headquarters. After doing research and learning that many of those who suffer out-of-hospital cardiac arrest events die in part because bystanders were unwilling to take action, Simpson hopes to make that a personal cause going forward.
After about a month recovering in North Carolina, Simpson finally returned to her Marshall home, a place spared from the devastating fires in December 2021 that later became a regular gathering spot for displaced neighbors. Simpson hadn’t lived at her home since she and her husband hit the road in January 2025, and she confessed to some anxiety in returning to a place where every fabric of her life was intertwined with running.
Aug. 23 marked Simpson’s 40th birthday party, and an emotional homecoming. It was life-affirming in more ways than one. Inside the overflowing pile of birthday cards were more than a few personal notes from her running friends offering to join her on walks whenever possible.
Simpson isn’t sure what awaits down the next mile. But she wants the Boulder community to know she’s going to be just fine. She’s still looking forward.
“When itap quiet and I’m trying to go to sleep at night, thatap when you can’t help but thinking about, how’s my life going to look moving forward?” Simpson said. “So I’ve definitely put some thought into it. Itap been such a short period of time.
“I had some anxiety (wondering) that Boulder would be a place that I would feel like I still had a place here. As soon as I started seeing friends and old relationships, it just completely overwhelmed me with acceptance and happiness and hope that I absolutely have a future here.”




