By Paolo Mariano
(July 26, 2021) – Hidilyn Diaz paused for a few seconds.
She had to gather her thoughts. Sitting on the powder-filled floor of the weightlifting gym she helped build at the Rizal Sports Complex in Manila one windy Friday afternoon in October 2019, Diaz searched for the proper words to say about her multitude of naysayers.
It was a difficult topic. A fresh wound. A few months prior, she was besieged with insults and invectives on social media after she asked for more financial support in her quest to win the gold medal in the Tokyo Olympics.
“Hirap na hirap na ko. I need financial support. Sa tingin niyo okay lang kaya? Nahihiya kasi ako pero try ko kapalan mukha ko para sa minimithi kong pangarap,” wrote Diaz in a Facebook post in June 2019, which swiftly went viral.
It was a valid concern, especially coming from someone who brought honor to the country after her silver medal finish in the 2016 Rio Olympics. Yet she got crucified. Even more ridiculously, she was included in a so-called plot to oust President Rodrigo Duterte.
After a few deep breaths and hints of hesitation, Diaz opened up.
“Um, siguro hindi nila alam. Hindi nila alam kung ano pinagdadaanan ko. Hindi nila alam kung ano pinaglalaban ko, and I understand that,” said Diaz. “Thankful na rin ako na nandiyan sila, they make me strong and they make me humble at the same time.”
Diaz, who came from modest beginnings in Zamboanga City, was deeply hurt by the widespread resentment. It made her question herself, admitting she almost quit, her difficult situation exacerbated by physical strain and the mental toll of being away from her family.
When prodded to discuss it, she had an even lengthier pause—and that’s when the tears fell.
“Bakit ganito kahirap? Ganito ka ba talaga kahirap manalo sa Olympics? Minsan nagda-doubt na ko sarili ko. Bakit ganun, binibigay ko naman lahat para sa bansa,” said Diaz, trying to hold back her eyes from welling up. “Napapaisip ako, ito ba ang kailangan?”
At that time, Diaz, who won a gold medal in the 2018 Asian Games, was preparing for the Southeast Asian Games in Manila, where she was a shoo-in to dominate the field. But she has already set her sights on the Tokyo Olympics. She strictly changed her diet, giving up her fondness for junk food, sweet drinks, and desserts. She also avoided alcohol—except for one instance.
“Pagkatapos ng ensayo may nakita ako sa refrigerator. Akala ko Sprite. Pag-inom ko, gin pala!” said Diaz, now with a laugh.
She also shored up her team in her quest to deliver the country’s first-ever gold medal in the Summer Games, led by legendary mentor Gao Kaiwen from China and strength and conditioning coach Julius Naranjo, who’s also her boyfriend.
Diaz and Gao could barely understand each other, communicating only through nods, hand gestures, and the occasional “OK.” But there’s an almost spiritual, cosmic connection between them—master and student—the stern-looking Gao and the well-motivated Diaz.
Gao has produced two gold medalists from China in the quadrennial event, Chen Xiexia in the 2008 Beijing Olympics and Zhou Lulu in the 2012 London Olympics. So Diaz knew to put her trust in him. No need for words. After all, come competition time, it’s about showing, not saying.
On Monday evening at the Tokyo International Forum, Diaz showed. She showed she can do the improbable, capturing the ever-elusive gold medal in the 55-kilogram (kg) category to make history for the Philippines. She also set an Olympic record with her 224 kg total, beating world champion and heavy favorite Liao Qiuyun of China in dramatic fashion.
With Liao almost robotically completing her lifts in the clean and jerk, the 30-year-old Diaz had to dig deep. Liao cleared 126 kg in her final attempt, putting all the pressure on the Filipina champion.
Diaz, wearing a blue and black singlet, hair in a tight ponytail, and muscles well-pronounced as if screaming LET’S GO!, poured every inch of her strength and drew from every nugget of motivation—finishing second to the last in the 2008 Beijing Olympics, not finishing at all in the 2012 London Olympics, the haters, the critics, the trolls, injuries, time away from family, heartbreaks, and self-doubts—to lift her way to immortality.
She defeated Liao by a hairline, 224 to 223 kg, and let out a primal scream. Then the tears fell once again. This time more instantly. Diaz remained on the stage for a few seconds to let it all sink in. Through the happy sobs, she flashed her wide smile, as she did so after every lift. She repeatedly yelled “Mabuhay, Pilipinas!” She waved to the limited audience, but really, she was waving to more than 110 million Filipinos.
Diaz almost waved goodbye to her gold medal hopes when the COVID-19 pandemic struck last year, postponing the Tokyo Olympics. If it got canceled entirely, she couldn’t afford to wait four more years, let alone compete at a high level. She feared the worst but remained cautiously optimistic. She stayed prepared, setting up training camp in Malaysia when she and her team got trapped due to travel restrictions. Now, everything’s worth the wait.
In every difficult victory, there’s a suspension of disbelief. A fraction of borrowed time when the mind wanders, navigating a labyrinthine maze of emotions. But always—always—it finds its way to pride. No matter how conceited that sounds. It’s hard not to be proud after achieving a long-cherished dream. For Diaz, that moment has finally come.
“First time natin ‘to. Akala natin imposible, akala ko rin imposible. Nasa pandemic tayo, imposible ang Olympics, pero nandito tayo ngayon. So kaya natin, huwag kayong sumuko,” said Diaz, who is expected to take home at least P30 million in incentives in what could be her swan song for the Philippines.
During the awarding ceremony, Diaz kept touching her silver Miraculous Medal necklace, with the image of the Virgin Mary with her arms wide open. It was quite fitting. While Diaz displayed superhuman strength, she’ll be the first to say that it was a miracle. She has always credited the higher beings for her success, maintaining that it was God who placed her where she needs to be.
“Hindi ako makapaniwalang nagawa ko ‘yun. Kakaiba si God,” said Diaz.
God placed her on the podium on Monday night. With the glistening gold medal around her neck, Diaz, a sergeant of the Philippine Air Force, firmly saluted as the “Lupang Hinirang” was played for the first time in 32 editions of the Olympics. Her black face mask failed to hide her faint cries. But she proudly sang.
She didn’t pause.
