Most people think the Olympics have begun when they sit down to watch the opening ceremony. For those of us competing in the Olympics, the journey begins much earlier. I qualified for London in June, and less than a month later—still a couple of weeks before the games opened—I was on my way to Rockville, Maryland, where I spent a few days training with the US diving team. I had waited four years to immerse myself in this journey. I was going to make the most of it.
It’s difficult to describe the emotions that accompanied such a trip. The Olympics had been such a huge part of my life for so long. But when I met Jesus, he totally changed my desires, thoughts, and attitudes toward the games. I no longer saw them as a platform for myself—as a vehicle for me to get all that I wanted in the world. No, now my outlook was transformed and redeemed, and I saw the Olympics as an opportunity to display God’s love to a lost and broken world. God’s grace is the only explanation I have for the complete change in an entirely self-consumed pattern.
The local dive club in Rockville was incredibly gracious and hospitable, and I was honored by their kindness and care for us. We didn’t deserve to be treated so well. The pool where we trained was a perfect spot—a simpler setting before heading to the ridiculously nice pool in London. The water didn’t have sprayers under the diving board to break the surface and make the water easier to see as you’re flipping and twisting through the air, so it pushed me to look for the water on my entries and stay tight. Those were the kinds of details that I needed to be working on before a competition anyway.
I had suffered from some tendonitis in my wrist that had caused me to miss some training time. But it felt much better after I arrived in Rockville. Adam and I were wise with the repetitions we did in the pool. Our goal was to train smart. We had already put in the work. I just needed to stay healthy, be relaxed, and strive to keep a Christ-centered perspective throughout my Olympic journey.
My second day in Rockville was extremely humbling. The diving team visited Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, one of the nation’s leading treatment centers for wounded soldiers. We witnessed firsthand the cost of keeping our country free. The brave men and women who fight for our freedom are the reason we have the privileges we enjoy in this country, and I was honored to meet some of these soldiers who had paid such a high price. It was a good reminder from God that I need to be thankful for how he has blessed our country. We don’t deserve these freedoms, yet God has allowed us to live in a country where freedom is so fundamental that it is too often taken for granted.
When we arrived at the hospital, we signed autographs in the dining hall. The soldiers, it seemed, were so encouraged by us that they went through the greeting line, many of them in wheelchairs, and encouraged us to battle on while we were in London representing the USA. After signing autographs, the team broke into groups and visited different areas of the hospital. Cassidy Krug, Kristian Ipsen, and I went to the surgical floor, where most of the soldiers were nursing injuries from the war in the Middle East. They had been there anywhere from a month to three months.
We visited four different soldiers, all of whom were amputees. Talk about perspective. It made what we were about to do in London seem insignificant. All the little issues and complaints I had—the practices that didn’t go how I wanted them to, the long days with the media—seemed pitiful compared to what these men were going through. I was thankful that God opened my eyes to see how un-Christlike I often am and how much I need him. It was heartbreaking to see the pain that these men were experiencing. Most of them appeared to be lost and confused. All I wanted to do was share true hope with them, but we were only there for a short time.
Even after that visit, it didn’t take long for my heart and mind to go straight back to focusing on myself. It had been a long day already. After getting back from the hospital we went straight to a sports psychology session. I was tired, hungry, and deprived of sleep, and in that moment I missed an opportunity to bring glory to God and love my teammates. I joined in on the complaining. My actions indicated that I thought it was okay to have a pity party.
See how easy it is to justify sinful behavior? We all do it, and it’s simple to think that we deserve things in our lives to go a certain way. On the bus ride over to the pool, the Lord convicted me of my sinful attitude through a conversation with Adam. Adam didn’t call me out, but he is often open about his own struggles. As he talked to me that day, I made the connection to my own failures and shortcomings. I clung to God at that moment and took my thoughts captive to make them obedient to Christ.
After the complete change of heart from earlier in the day, I had a great practice. And I believe God poured out blessings upon me because I had been repentant. I didn’t repent because of what I could get out of God, but because I was truly broken. It can be natural to fall into the trap of thinking that if I repent, then I will get certain blessings. That’s not proper motivation for repentance. And yet, God blesses those who do repent. It’s mind-boggling to think about.
My practice earlier that morning had been sluggish as Nick McCrory and I worked on synchro. I held back on the takeoffs, and as a result, my entries were weak. I didn’t have a lot of control or see the water clearly because I was tentative on the takeoff. Again, the absence of sprayers on the water made it hard to determine where I was in the air. It was almost as if I were diving with a blindfold on.
But the practice that night was much better. I made sure I was jumping strong. On my back dive, I focused on having my knees in front. On fronts, I got my arms through a little faster on my takeoff to help me generate more rotation, which helped my distance and form. In diving, everything stems from the takeoff. My front takeoffs were great, and my reverses, or gainers, weren’t bad. The first gainer, I was anxious on the platform and got dizzy. That affected my entry—badly! On the second one, though, I stood confidently, made sure I dropped my knees with fast arms through, and focused on seeing my toes on the come-out.
That’s a lot of technical talk and diving jargon, I know. But hopefully it gives you a little idea of the kinds of things I was thinking about and working on as I went through my practice routines. Each dive was different, and I had to watch for different cues with each one. If I didn’t, if I missed even one dive and didn’t execute it well, there would be little or no chance of seeing the Olympic podium.
The next day we had an incredible evening at our Olympic team send-off in Germantown, Maryland. We went straight to the event after our practice at the pool. Hundreds of fans from all over met us in Germantown to send us off to London. The line to get in the door wrapped around the building. It was crazy to see so much love and excitement for us. People swarmed us, wanting pictures and autographs. It was definitely a taste of what it’s like to be famous, and I was reminded about the changes that the Lord had made in my life.
Four years ago, this kind of attention was exactly what I was living for. I wasn’t alone in that quest; it seems fame and fortune is an alluring call for many people. We think being famous will solve all our problems, when in fact it often causes more. As I stood there and observed my teammates, and as I responded to request after request for autographs, I started to get annoyed by how much people were asking of me. I started complaining to my teammates, because it was a lot—maybe a thousand autographs in a couple of hours. We think being famous is glorious, but we forget everything that comes along with the job.
This shows the futility that comes with achieving what we think we want. Anything less than knowing God and living for him doesn’t fulfill and doesn’t satisfy. It wasn’t meant to. I thought I wanted to be famous, but when I encountered the costs of even a small dose of that fame, I had second thoughts. I complained in that moment because I had lost sight of my purpose. No wonder I didn’t have joy. I was making the experience about me rather than loving God and loving others. I was missing the joy that comes from having an impact on someone’s life. As I’ve grown in my faith, I realize now that the greatest joy comes from the self-sacrifice of loving others and being a blessing to them.
These autograph sessions can make your mind wander easily because you’re continually focusing on yourself. It’s a huge trap. I had to snap out of it and preach to myself constantly throughout the night, reminding myself that my circumstances were an opportunity to give God glory. He was continuing to build a platform for himself, and I needed to be thankful for the plan he was putting in place. Not only that but I needed to be a good witness to my teammates. The moment they saw me complaining and getting annoyed was the moment my testimony of faith began to weaken. If I represent a good God, I need to be that visible representation of him all the time, not just when I feel like it.
On our last day in Rockville, Adam and I attended church at Covenant Life Church, where Joshua Harris was then the pastor. The worship was a perfect way to end my time in the United States before heading overseas. Joshua preached from Matthew about the incomparable faithfulness of God in Jesus, going back to the Old Testament to show how God’s promises were revealed through Christ. After the service, Adam and I visited a bit with Joshua, thanking him for writing books like Boy Meets Girl and I Kissed Dating Goodbye. He prayed for both of us as we headed to London.
The flight to London was actually refreshing. I was sitting next to my teammate Chris Colwill in coach. A couple of flight attendants told us to let them know if we needed anything during the flight, so I figured I’d shoot for the moon.
“If there are a couple of seats open in business class, we’d love to move up there so we can sleep,” I told them.
A few minutes later, they came back and told us they had two seats next to each other in business class that we could have if we signed the back of United Airlines’ Hemispheres magazine for them.
No problem.
We slept the entire trip, so even though we arrived in London at 6:30 a.m., we felt rested. Upon our arrival we immediately went through processing. Officers scanned our luggage as we went through security and picked up our Olympic credentials. The credential tag that hangs on a lanyard around your neck is everything during the Olympics. You don’t go anywhere without it, because you have to scan in every place you go. Security is paramount.
Our processing complete, we boarded the bus to take us to the Olympic Village, where all the athletes were housed during the games. The village was beautiful; it had so much space and a layout that was a huge improvement over Beijing. Housing in the village was divided by country, so we weren’t intermingling with athletes from other countries a whole lot in our living arrangements. Each country had its own set of apartment buildings. In each suite was a living room, four or five bedrooms, and a couple of bathrooms. Sometimes athletes shared a bedroom with other athletes, and sometimes they had their own rooms. I shared a bedroom with Chris Colwill in London. I was also good friends with one of the Chinese divers, so I often hung out in his room in the Chinese complex, playing video games with him and his roommates.
I had to give my family a tour of the village via Skype. They were with me in London, but I missed the deadline to sign them up to visit me inside, so I had to show them all the amenities remotely. An athlete game room featured arcade games, video games, and giant, life-size versions of games like Jenga and Connect Four. It was like a playground for adults. Overkill? Maybe, but those games served the valuable purpose of getting athletes’ minds off the competition and allowing them an opportunity to just enjoy hanging out with teammates or athletes from other countries.
Most of the high-profile Olympians like Michael Phelps, Hope Solo, Missy Franklin, and others stayed in the village with the rest of us. In London, Michael Phelps’s balcony was right next to mine. I’d often see some of the more famous Olympians eating dinner in the cafeteria, waiting for buses, and spending time in the village like everyone else. The basketball players, with superstars like Kobe Bryant and LeBron James, didn’t stay in the village, and about the only time we saw them was when we were getting ready for the opening ceremony. In Beijing in 2008, I was right in front of them. In London in 2012, I walked in right behind them. I actually had a conversation with Kobe in 2008 on the way to the ceremony. All the guys on the basketball team were friendly and always willing to interact with other athletes and have their photos taken, and they were cool about all of us being so excited to see them. Like the rest of us, they were proud to be representing their country.
In the village, you just scanned your credential at any vending machine and got whatever snack or drink you wanted. While athletes were separated by country in their apartments, that wasn’t the case with the cafeteria. The dining hall was located in a separate building from the residential complexes, and mealtime was a free-for-all, with a huge cafeteria and food from pretty much every corner of the world.
Then there was the enormous McDonald’s, a hair salon, a gymnasium, a place where you could ship packages—all of it located in the Olympic Village, where athletes were treated like royalty. Practically everything was free, including all the food and drinks you could possibly want. While the accommodations were nice, I had to remind myself that this atmosphere didn’t have lasting value. The amenities, although cool, aren’t that important in the grand scheme of things.
Those Skype chats with my family helped me to keep the Olympic world in perspective. Many times in the past I had felt too tired or anxious to speak with my family before big events, but that was a direct result of worshipping myself. Yes, rest is important, but it has its time and place. God had enabled me to see that a biblical man does hard things and puts others before himself, whether he wants to or not. A biblical man strives to keep God’s two greatest commandments of loving the Lord with all his heart, soul, and mind, and loving others as he loves himself (Luke 10:27).
The building for the US athletes was next to the dining court and the bus stop for the venues—a perfect location. I shared an apartment with the four other male divers on the team and Adam. He wasn’t the official Team USA coach, but he was my coach, which gave him credentials and allowed him to be there in an official Olympic capacity. Early in my time in London, I felt the Lord prompting me to be intentional and active in how I loved my teammates, to get the focus off myself and be proactive in finding small ways I could serve them.
It wasn’t always easy; I often felt like some of my teammates avoided me. Part of that, I think, was because of my growth in the Lord. They saw the light in my life and didn’t like being around it. I think another part was worry that they might offend me with the way they talked. All that meant that I had to look for ways to hang out with them. So I tried to do simple things like asking them if they wanted to go to the Olympic plaza or play games.
I was blown away by the way God was changing my desires at the Olympics. So many people were praying for me, and I could tell that God was answering their prayers. The Olympic Games used to be the main motivator in my life. I put it on the highest pedestal, and it meant the world to me. This time, I prayed that God would increase in my life and the world would decrease in its significance and allure. God answered those prayers. I knew I still occasionally used the Olympics as a tool to reach the old idols in my life, but I could see God’s faithfulness in growing and maturing me in this journey.
The Olympics were not the most important thing in the world to me anymore. The old part of me kicked against the shrinking importance of the Olympics, whispering that it was the best thing in the world and the most important stage of my life. But that voice was drowned out by the growing volume of my heart’s song to God. I saw his faithfulness in bringing me to this change, and it was unbelievable.
That’s not to say that I didn’t think the Olympics were cool. I definitely enjoyed them, and the Olympic atmosphere was incredibly special. My desire for the Lord and for spiritual things, however, was outpacing my love for temporary things like the Olympics. Remember how much I loved all the swag I got in China? We had the same type of setup in London, and I again came away with an entire wardrobe of clothes. This time, however, I gave a lot of my clothes away. Some of them I sold on eBay as a fundraiser for my church’s college ministry. This time, I saw the opportunity for God to use me to provide blessings to others.
I was also getting my own blessings in London. One of the biggest was a guy named Brad Franklin. I got to know Brad while he was enrolled in a seminary program at my church. After he graduated, he moved to England and eventually landed in London, where he was serving as a pastor. Early in my time in London I connected with Brad. It was fun to see him again in that environment. It was another reminder to me of how precious the body of Christ is. When I’m away from home for so long, it’s hard to maintain a strong sense of community. Yes, Adam was with me almost twenty-four hours a day, and I was grateful for his presence. But it was also nice to have someone else around—someone who was a brother in Christ and who wasn’t living with me and coaching me. Brad provided me with some much-needed encouragement during the Olympics.
A couple of days after we got to London, we left for Sheffield, about three hours north, where our off-site Olympic training facility was located. While we were waiting for our train to Sheffield, we met some nice ladies from a company called the Wool Sak who had made little wool pillows for the US divers. I was thankful because they were extremely comfortable and came in handy for the train ride. We went through a security briefing after we arrived at the hotel, where we witnessed continued grand treatment by the citizens of Sheffield. The whole city, it seemed, was watching out for us. I had a strong practice that day and felt like everything was beginning to come together.
The next day was a disaster. It was one of those days when you have to throw your plans out the window and completely trust in God’s sovereignty. I started to feel a little stuffy the night before, and my nose was runny, but I thought it might be allergies. I woke up on July 20, one week before the start of the Olympics, and felt awful. My head was pounding, my throat was sore, and my body felt completely drained. I tried to eat breakfast but couldn’t. I took some medicine and went back to bed, missing my morning practice. I slept all morning, ate lunch, then slept all afternoon and missed my second practice and media day. My body was telling me to take care of it and rest.
A situation like that is always alarming. At first I was bitter because missing a day of training was not in the plan. But after the rest, I saw that it was exactly what I needed. I knew God was faithful and was more than enough. His plan was perfect, and it wasn’t the end of the world for me to miss one training day. My skills and tools were in place, and all that I needed to do was pull them out at the right time. Though I could have been anxious about my circumstances, the Lord provided me with a peace and an understanding that my plan ultimately doesn’t matter.
I felt a lot better after getting seventeen hours of sleep that day and night. Then I felt good enough to practice, which went okay—about the way I expected after being sick.
Another encouragement came from my teammate Brittany Viola. She was another believer on the team. She made little cards for everyone and told us that she had been dwelling on the word hope. One side of the cards explained what hope was (and wasn’t), and on the back side was Romans 5:3–4: “Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.” Exactly what I needed to hear.
Nick and I returned from Sheffield to London a little earlier than most of our teammates because our synchro competition was early in the Olympic schedule. We wanted to spend some time training at the London Aquatics Centre to get used to the venue. As I had in Beijing, I participated in the opening ceremony that officially kicked off the games. But this time I kept it short. I walked around the track with Team USA during the parade of nations and then left so I could be more rested for my event. My experience during my second Olympics was completely different than it had been in Beijing. While it was still enjoyable, it wasn’t nearly as memorable as my first Olympics. I was overwhelmed with the atmosphere in China. In London, I was focused on my mission and my goals: loving God, loving others, and diving to the best of my ability.