The courage to succeed by Ruben Gonzalez

Book review by Dhivya Thiagarajan

The Courage to Succeed : What an Unlikely 4 Time Olympian Taught Me About Success

There are books we read for information, and then there are books that meet us differently depending on where we are in life. Ruben Gonzalez’s book- The Courage to Succeed was one of those books for me.

My mentor-coach recommended it during one of the lowest points in my life, at a time when I was struggling to see beyond what was happening around me. I didn’t need another book telling me how to be successful. I needed something that reminded me that a difficult chapter was still just a chapter.

Reading it again recently brought back some of those feelings, but this time I saw the book through a very different lens.

Gonzalez’s story is almost difficult to believe. He was not a naturally gifted athlete and was often the person picked last for sports teams. Yet, at the age of 21, after watching the Winter Olympics, he decided that he wanted to become an Olympian. His choice of sport makes the story even more fascinating. He chose luge, a sport in which you lie on a tiny sled and hurtle down an icy track at terrifying speeds.

I have to admit, I found that rather hilarious. Most of us, when we discover that we aren’t naturally good at something, tend to look for an easier option. Gonzalez seemed to think differently. His thinking was almost, “Let me find something challenging, something where most people will quit and, therefore, there will be fewer people competing.”

There was actually a strategy behind the madness. He wasn’t looking for the easiest road; he was looking for a road that people were less likely to stay on. And that, to me, is a fascinating way of looking at competition and success.

It also captures one of the central ideas in the book: the difference between wanting something and deciding to pursue it.

We all have things we want. The difficult part is making the decision that we are willing to work for them, especially when the path becomes uncomfortable. That distinction resonated with me because I have experienced it personally and see it regularly in my coaching work. People can
spend months, sometimes years, thinking about a decision, analysing every possible outcome and waiting for the moment when they finally feel certain. I know this territory well. I have had periods where I confused thinking with progress, because overthinking can look remarkably like responsibility when we are afraid of getting something wrong.

One of Gonzalez’s ideas that stayed with me is that we are “six inches away from success”, the distance between our two ears. It sounds almost ridiculously simple, but the more I thought about it, the more profound it felt. Those six inches can hold fear, self-doubt, comparison, perfectionism and every possible reason why today may not be the right day to begin.

During my own difficult period, I experienced exactly that. My circumstances were real, but so was the story I was telling myself about those circumstances. What my mentor-coach gave me through this book was not a magic solution. It was perspective, the possibility that what I was experiencing did not have to become the definition of what came next.

Another idea I particularly connected with was Gonzalez’s emphasis on persistence. He says that your chances of succeeding are 95% if you simply don’t give up working towards your goal. Whether we take the number as a precise prediction or focus on the larger message, the principle is powerful: staying in the game matters.

We often imagine success as one big breakthrough, but Gonzalez’s journey shows something much less glamorous. It is practice, repetition, mistakes, recovery and showing up again. The extraordinary result is built from very ordinary actions.

That is something I deeply believe in today. In my work with founders and leaders, I often see people looking for the perfect strategy when what may actually be missing is consistent execution. We want the big win, but meaningful change is usually built through small actions repeated long enough to become habits.

The book also reinforced something I have personally come to value deeply: the people we choose to have on our team matter. Gonzalez speaks about mentors, coaches and people who believe in the goal alongside him. My own experience makes this particularly meaningful because this book came into my life through a mentor-coach.

I have learnt that asking for help does not make us less capable. The right coach or mentor does not carry the goal for us. They help us see what we cannot see when we are standing too close to our own problem. Sometimes they challenge us, sometimes they keep us accountable, and sometimes they hold the belief for us until we are ready to hold it ourselves.

Perhaps the idea that stayed with me most, though, is his relationship with fear.

We often believe confidence must come first: Once I feel confident, I will do it.

Gonzalez’s journey suggests the reverse. Action creates confidence. We practise, we make mistakes, we learn, we try again, and slowly what once frightened us becomes familiar.

I have started looking at fear differently because of that. Sometimes fear is not telling us that we are incapable. It may simply be telling us that we haven’t done something enough yet.

Perhaps that is why this book stayed with me, both the first time I read it and now, years later. The first time, I was looking for hope that my circumstances could change. This time, I found myself reflecting on how much of that change had actually come from continuing to take the next step, even when I couldn’t see very far ahead.

What I particularly appreciate about Gonzalez’s story is that he doesn’t make success look neat. There are crashes, disappointments, mistakes, fear and plenty of moments when walking away would have been easier. Yet the story keeps moving because he keeps getting back on the sled.

Maybe that is the part I will carry with me. Not the Olympic medals or the dramatic achievement, but the reminder that confidence can be built through action, that the right people can make a difficult journey lighter, and that sometimes we are much closer to the next chapter than we realise.

And perhaps, on some days, success simply means getting back on the sled.