For Celita Schutz, competing before 8,000 cheering judo fans crammed into an Olympic arena was practically old hat: She was competing in her third – and final – Games.

The bliss of experiencing history, however, ran smack into the reality of the present when Ms. Schutz returned home to thousands of dollars of debt. Athletes without either the ties to formal organizations that sponsor ranked competitors or parents to pay their way are left to cover astounding costs. Nutritionists, trainers, doctors, and gym time are expensive, and being a top athlete also requires long hours dedicated to training that preclude a full-time job.

Ms. Schutz, a former graphic designer, created the Web site www.celitajudo.com from her Upper West Side apartment to solicit donations to help with her debt. Her eventual goal is to set up an organization to support other unranked athletes “at a time when they seem to be the only ones believing in themselves.”

She’s also excited about the prospect of New York’s hosting the Olympics in 2012. “I’m currently an Olympian in support of NYC 2012. I think it would bring a lot of great things to the city. At the same time, I think New York City has a lot to prepare for, but I think New York is the best city to do it,” she says.

Her most immediate tasks, however, are rehabilitating a knee that she injured during the Games and finding a job in art direction or finance. She has her fingers crossed, she says, that, “any firm would like an Olympic athlete working for them.”

Ms. Schutz, 36, has an unfamiliar task ahead of her: Finding out what life is like after a decades-long career in competitive sports.

Ms. Schutz’s love affair with judo began when she was a pre-schooler in Riverdale, N.J. A few family friends were involved in the sport, and she was enchanted. But, she says, “My mother was afraid.” She said if Celita was still interested when she was 6, she could join the local dojo, which at the time was mostly male. Shortly after her sixth birthday, she enrolled in her first class.

And when did her commitment become entrenched?

“Probably around 7!” she says with a laugh. “I was very serious as a child. I worked hard.”

She studied under Nagayasu Ogasawara, who is still one of her coaches, along with Yoichiro Matsumura, Mr. Ogasawara’s college roommate.

Her youthful devotion paid off. She was the Junior National Champion from ages 9 to 18 and a four-time high school national champion. She placed first in the British Open, her first international tournament and at the time the highest level of competition for female judo participants.

Judo was an exhibition sport for women in the 1988 Olympics and only became an official competitive event in 1992. Finding out that she couldn’t pursue a medal in judo, she scaled back her commitment to the sport after 12 years of serious competition. When she entered Yale in 1986 to major in art, she played soccer and basketball instead.

“There was less pressure because you’re on a team and responsibility is dispersed,” she says now of her flirtation with the other sports (although she led the soccer team in scoring as a sophomore and junior). “In judo you’re the only one out there and everything relies on you. In my opinion,” she adds, “nothing compares with judo because it’s a full-body sport.”

When judo became a full-fledged Olympic event for women, Ms. Schutz had moved to New York City. She eventually trained here full-time.

Six months before the 1996 Summer Olympics, Ms. Schutz dislocated her ankle and sustained a double compound fracture. “Because I had already mentally committed myself to the effort [of going to the Olympic trials],” she soldiered on with the help of a physical therapist and an orthopedic surgeon.

“It was predicted it would be six months to even get on the mat,” she says. Within three months, she was back in international competition. She had lost rankings,but made them up, entered trials ranked no. 1, and went on to the Games in Atlanta.

“The experience itself is difficult to prepare for,” she notes. The hardest element to adjust to was worldwide attention paid to competition results. “I kept telling myself, my opponents are the same ones I see all year round.” When she failed to place, she says it only inspired her to begin training immediately for Sydney.

She had gotten married in 1992 and her husband had watched her compete in Atlanta, but his fear of flying prevented him from traveling to Sydney in 2000. By then, Ms. Schutz was ranked fifth and was widely expected to medal. But as she says now, “judo is a sport where results today are not a factor in results tomorrow.” She finished 9th after losing to both the eventual gold and bronze medalists.

Her relationship with her husband was also strained. “I believed we were going to make attempts to repair our marriage,” she says, “but when I returned home from Sydney I was told otherwise. And it doesn’t work with one person.

“It was one of the saddest times in my life,” she reflects. “It really took the heart out of training and competing, everything. The divorce process itself was totally exhausting.”

She didn’t compete for two and a half years. A year ago, however, she tentatively stepped on the mat again – and started winning. She took first place at the East Coast championships and a silver medal at the U.S. Open. “Why should I stop doing something I loved so much?” she found herself wondering. And a race to the Olympic trials began for the third time.

Though she was unranked, Ms. Schutz made the team. She loved being in Athens – “the experience does not compare” – but she lost her first two matches and did not advance. By this time she had gained a perspective that reached beyond wins and losses.

“A player in my division was the first female representative in the Olympics from Afghanistan ever,” she says with awe. “She made history just by showing up. Everywhere you look, there’s another story – as I create my own.”