Boudia David - Greater than Gold: from Olympic heartbreak to ultimate redemption

The important thing in life is not the triumph, but the fight; the essential thing is not to have won, but to have fought well.

O LYMPIC C REED

A s I stood on the 10-meter platform in Beijing in 2008, preparing for my final dive in the aqua-colored, puffy-looking Water Cube (the venue for all the aquatic events), I wanted to savor the moment. This was the pinnacle of athletic accomplishment for hundreds of athletes like me who had sweated, pushed, lifted, trained, sacrificed, and willed their way to the Olympics.

For me, that Olympic experience amounted to a whopping total of about 8.5 seconds in my individual event. The final in the 10-meter platform competition consists of six dives. A dive takes about 1.4 seconds. That means I spent roughly five hours a day, six days a week, three hundred days a year training and preparing for those 8.5 seconds. Plus, the fact that millions of people around the world were watching me as I stood there in a skimpy suit added to my drive to attain perfection. Talk about pressure.

My Olympic journey had been an all-consuming passion and obsession since I was seven years old. That was the start of my pursuit of the American dreammy belief that I could achieve riches, fame, and success. For me, the Olympics were my vehicle of choice to get the goods. The desire accelerated over time. Once I made the Olympics, just making it there was no longer enough. I wanted to win a medal. Then winning a medal wasnt enough. I wanted to win gold.

With a singular focus that never wavered, I pursued this dream of Olympic glory not for some noble purpose but because of what I thought it could deliver. My only desire in life was to please myself and do everything I could to make my life better, and I believed a gold medal would achieve that. A gold medal would mean fame and adoration. A gold medal would mean success. It would mean acceptance. It would mean happiness and joy.

So, relentlessly and doggedly, thats what I chased. And the harder I pressed and the closer I got to that goal, the more miserable life became. Every time I thought I had almost achieved the goal, suddenly a new one took its place. No matter what I accomplished and no matter how happy I should have been, fulfillment always seemed just beyond my grasp.

Sound familiar?

Maybe everyone else in your life thinks you have it all together, but you know better. You look in the mirror and you see the emptiness staring back at you that eludes everyone else. Sometimes it feels as though your life is a disaster. You wonder if youll ever find joy, satisfaction, and peace. Maybe you think once you lose that ten pounds, everything will be better. Maybe youre enslaved to your work, and you think your next promotion will solve so many problems. Maybe youve been looking for fulfillment in the next drink, the next hit, the next puff, or the next conquest.

I know exactly what its like, that unrelenting mirage of a promise that happiness is just around the next corner. Once you get there, you find a mouthful of sand instead.

If only I could get that scholarship. If only I could get married. If only my kids would obey. If only I could land that job. If only my spouse were different. If only the chemo would work.

If only.

My if only had partially come true when I made the Olympic team in 2008 and achieved a goal I had set as a boy. It was the American dream fulfilled. Now here I was, standing in front of thousands of Chinese fans in the first Olympics China had ever hosted. My final dive was meaningless because my previous two dives had left me far from medal contention. Nevertheless, I wanted to go out in memorable fashion. I wanted to absorb all I could of the atmosphere and the adulation. Normally I try to tune out the externals that can distract. This time, however, I looked around at the crowd. I tried to suck every bit of excitement and pleasure that I could out of my final attempt.

I enjoyed the moment. I took a deep breath and launched myself off the platform. And I turned in one of the worst dives I had ever done in a competition. The Olympics that began with such promise and potential had ended in embarrassment.

The days that followed that first Olympic experience marked a downward spiral of hopelessness and despair. My failed pursuit of Olympic glory had left me feeling abandoned and alone. I felt betrayed, rejected, and defeated by the god I had sacrificed everything to appease. I would have utterly scoffed at the Olympic creed declaring that the important thing is not the triumph, but the fight; the essential thing is not to have won, but to have fought well. What nonsense that seemed to me in the aftermath of my greatest episode of heartbreak and disappointment. My whole purpose had proven hollow, and the destruction that followed left my life in tatters. I didnt know it at the time, but my purpose needed to be redirected and redeemed. I needed to be redirected and redeemed.

In the pages that follow, I hope to take you on a journey. Yes, its my journey, but my goal is not simply to tell my story. My goal is to leave you with something that applies to your life. I hope you will walk away encouraged and inspired to think about your purpose in life. I hope my story helps deepen your faith. My goal is to give you hope. Because if youre struggling with self-centeredness, arrogance, and entitlement, Ive been there. If youre wrestling with addiction and enslavement to pleasure, Ive been there. If youre fighting against hopelessness and emptiness in life, Ive been there. If youre battling fear and laziness, Ive been there too. If you feel aimless, directionless, and purposeless, youre not the only one. And I can tell you absolutely and without reservation, there is hope for you.