Four Fingers and One Thumb...to Keep Going

The example of Dwain Chambers will continue to accompany athletes, and not just them, but anyone who wants to get up fast after they fall.

The building of the House of Lords in London, or the well-known Westminster Palace, is one of the most impressive in the city. However, entering it requires at least a 45-minute security check, including document verification, confirmation of who invited you, and who knows what else.

Coming straight from the airport, I head to our traditional meeting—an elegant gourmet lunch with the Fellows of the British PR Association, the largest in the world and likely the only one with such lifetime positions, where I have been a member for several years. Our host, as per tradition, is another senior advisor, our colleague - Lord Black of Brentwood. Apart from the delicious and carefully selected food and engaging professional and sometimes personal conversations, we always have an interesting guest who tells us about things we don’t know. They call him “The guest speaker”, but he is usually much more than just a guest behind a podium,

he is someone with an impressive biography and a lot to share.

While waiting to pass through the series of security checks, I notice a man standing next to me. I see him for the first time, but he looks at me with a broad smile, flashing snow-white teeth, and raises his thumb in greeting.

"You definitely know me, but I don’t know you. It’s time to get acquainted," he says directly.

To my brief and clear "Max," he simply nods without even introducing himself.

"Well, well," I think to myself. "Was this guy a British Prime Minister at some point, and I missed it in the news? He definitely has that kind of confidence."

By the time dessert is served, my new acquaintance-turned-stranger takes the podium. In about ten minutes, he explains how important it is that when you fall - even badly - you find the strength to get up, dust yourself off, and move on.

We all know this from textbooks - it’s what should happen–

but very few actually experience it in real life.

Within his first few sentences, my table neighbours told me the name of the guest speaker - Dwain Chambers. By the time he finishes his first paragraph, thousands of search results about him pop up on the screen of my mobile phone.

From the small, high-quality speakers in the room, his speech doesn’t produce mere words - it carries sighs, exclamations, tears, both joyous and sorrowful, and short sentences behind which lie years of personal struggles.

In 1997, in the 100-meter sprint, the then-21-year-old London-born athlete became the youngest athlete in the world to win a medal. This was followed by stunning athletic achievements that even the most experienced would envy.

"I wanted to go from being fifth in the world to being first. As fast as possible, at any cost, and nothing could stop me. Absolutely nothing."

Except… for the doping test in 2003, which found the banned substance THG in his system - the first such case among athletes. That stopped him, and for a long time.

He had already became the number one

sprinter in the world, but the ruling of the committee stripped him of his world title in the 100 meters, won just a year earlier. He was banned from competition for two years and received a lifetime ban from the Olympic Games and the Commonwealth Games.

A practically fatal blow for any athlete.

"The world came crashing down on me. My whole life lost its meaning. My ambitions evaporated in seconds. Thoughts of suicide started haunting me, even in my worst nightmares; I couldn’t have imagined that something like this could happen so quickly, all because of my obsessive desire to be 'number one' at any cost,"  Dwain is telling me  me after lunch as we stand on the terrace of the House of Lords, overlooking the giant London Eye and the fast-flowing River Thames beneath our feet.

Dwain considered switching sports, trying even American football, and embarking on various projects, but the crushing weight of his loss left him nearly powerless.

"There were days when I was certain

I would never get out of the mess

I had, of course, created for myself; believing that no one would ever catch me. There’s hardly a bigger stupidity than that," adds Dwain, gazing into the river’s current—his tone now much calmer than it was in his speech, just half an hour earlier.

And after the "Dark Night" comes a bit of light. The Court of Arbitration for Sport overturned his lifetime Olympic ban, and in 2012—nine years later—Dwain Chambers is once again part of Team Great Britain, competing in what would become a historic Olympic Games for the entire nation.

What follows is a series of victories, appearances, and prestigious trophies. And then, in 2023, at the age of 45, he set a world record in the 60-meter indoor sprint.

No one, except Dwain himself, believed he could make a triumphant comeback as a world champion. No one, except him…

His 2009 book, "Race Against Myself," became a bestseller within days, but even there, he does not predict the future that awaits him. And that future is

his return to the global sports stage in triumph.

"I had months, probably a year, of intense stress. And then I told myself—not just in sports but in life—you must stand up and keep going, no matter the cost. I left for Jamaica and began training relentlessly. The thought of turning to performance enhancers never even crossed my mind. My only stimulant, my only motivator, my only engine, and my goal was the race… against myself. I kept telling myself: ‘You got yourself into this mess. Only you can get yourself out.’ And I proved it. That gave meaning to my life. Every success gave me more and more strength to keep moving forward and upward. My victories, my records, my trophies, and medals became my new and very real, only dopamine boost," Dwain says, trying to stay calm.

But the slight twitch in his cheekbones and the sharpness of his gestures reveal more than just emotion.

"And remember this, Max - if I can do it, anyone can. All it takes is four fingers and a thumb. A strong hand that won’t let you fall and, when needed, will lift you up. Your own hand. No one else will do it for you."

As we stand on the terrace of Westminster, I involuntarily glance at his hand—strong and steady, like that of a winner.

Just like his thoughts and ambitions.

Now different. Pure. And victorious.