On the court, Jessica Sconyers looks like any other collegiate volleyball player — focused, composed, and ready for the next point. What isn’t visible to the crowd is the constant calculation happening beneath the surface, a balance between competition and a chronic condition that doesn’t pause when the whistle blows.

For Sconyers, managing hypoglycemia is part of every practice, every game, and every day.

“My legs feel weightless, like they’re in a cloud,” Sconyers said. “My hands get shaky, and there’s a lot of brain fog.”

Those symptoms can arrive suddenly. When they do, even simple tasks become difficult.

“I can’t even focus long enough to read something simple,” she said. “It’s not just physical — it’s everything at once.”

Sconyers’ athletic journey began like many others. She was introduced to volleyball at a young age and continued playing through high school, eventually earning the opportunity to compete at the collegiate level. But as she grew older, she began to recognize that something wasn’t right.

As a child, she often experienced intense hunger and emotional swings that were brushed off as normal. It wasn’t until college that she decided to take control of her health. “I realized it wasn’t normal to need that many snacks,” she said. “Once I got to college, I knew I needed to figure out what was going on.”

Her diagnosis came during the summer before her senior year. From that point forward, managing hypoglycemia became part of her routine — one that required constant awareness and preparation.

Rather than stepping away from the sport she loved, Sconyers adjusted her approach to competition. “I never had to stop or adjust my athletic goals,” she said. “It was more about adjusting how I approach the game.”

That adjustment meant planning meals carefully and eating more frequently than most athletes. “I’m always eating,” Sconyers said. “Before practice, during practice, after practice — I’ll eat while I play if I need to.”

While many athletes are taught to push through discomfort, Sconyers learned that listening to her body was essential to staying safe and competitive. Managing hypoglycemia also meant finding additional support. One of the most significant pieces of that support came in an unexpected form — her service dog.  “Having a service dog has given me a lot more responsibility and organization within my day,” she said. “I don’t just have to worry about myself — I have to worry about another being.”

Sconyers chose to train her service dog herself, committing years to the process. Over time, the dog learned to recognize the scent changes associated with low blood sugar and alert her before symptoms became overwhelming. “There was a time in the gym when he kept alerting me, and I didn’t realize what was happening at first,” she said. “Later, I realized I was going into a low. He sensed it before I fully did.”

Beyond the medical alerts, the presence of her service dog reinforced something deeper — independence. “I’ve always been an independent kid,” Sconyers said. “Training him helped me feel like I belong wherever I go. I know I’m allowed to be here, and I can do this.”

While hypoglycemia adds an extra layer of complexity to her athletic life, it hasn’t changed how Sconyers views her identity as an athlete. Instead, it has reshaped how she defines strength.

From the outside, she may look perfectly healthy. Inside, she manages fatigue, fear, and the mental weight of knowing a low blood sugar episode could happen at any time. “You know your body better than anyone else,” she said. “Athletes have to learn how to advocate for themselves.”

Through the highs and the lows, Sconyers continues to compete — not in spite of her condition, but alongside it. Her story reflects the reality faced by many chronic athletes: strength is not found in ignoring pain or pushing through blindly, but in preparation, awareness, and resilience. For Jessica Sconyers, competing isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up informed, prepared, and determined — every single day.