Does Cheating Occur At Races?

They say cheaters never prosper. That is an assuring thought, if it does happen. Unfortunately, many cheaters go undetected and unsuspected, escaping the radar of doping authorities. 

This article reveals shocking data: One in 7 Ironman participants, apparently, cheat in long-distance races such as Ironman triathlons.

This is certainly not assuring news, yet it may just be the tip of the proverbial ice-berg. Unlike professional cyclists, where cheating is rampant (read Tyler Hamilton's 'The Secret Race') - bread and water (aqua-pita) won't cut it - and anti-doping proponents only reveal their ugly, conscionable sides, the amateur arena is already loaded with suspicion. Why? Perhaps, a significant number of gifted age-groupers are annoyed at missing their podium placings, and their potential slots in the world championships. 

In the past decade, only a handful of professionals have been caught for doping. If a current champion is caught for deliberate cheating, it may diminish the stature of the sport but not its allure. Competitive bodybuilding is rift with doping, i.e. through the use of anabolic steroids, dehydrating and fat-reducing pharmaceutical aids. In spite of the open-use of such hormone-based, muscle-enhancing medication, bodybuilding has a large niche following and a prevailing mindset that bypasses logic and reasoning, and blind-sighted by aesthetic beauty. Grotesque muscles are considered sexy on the bodies of both genders.

Why cheat? The reasons are aplenty. Because it can be an advantage, unfair or not. Because more and more serious athletes are resorting to such (mal)practices. Because, it enhances the body's potential to do more and exceed its perceived limits. Because, some need to go to Kona and feel complete with that experience and hyperbole. Because the financial rewards diminish significantly when you place off the podium. Because...and the list of qualifications and reasoning continues, ad infinitum. It is, what it is.

The cheating will continue, and we need to adapt to the situations and conditions. We have choices, but cheating need not be the only one. Several roads lead to Kona, and you need to live with your own conscience and integrity. Perhaps, it is time to not get angry but to get even. Do your best, and live with your best. You can still earn a chance to Kona through sheer luck of the draw(s), charity slots, entry by exception, or through the tradition of placing. After all, isn't the journey as relevant as the destination?

The Ironman Has Landed!

Dex Tai has arrived in Europe. He is getting ready to race in Ironman Austria, his first of a trilogy of 226K triathlons as part of his cause, Racing For Autism.

Congratulations to Tomoya, one of Singapore's fastest half-Ironman triathletes! For his podium position in Japan last weekend, he secured his entry to Kona to compete in this year's Ironman World Championships. 

Why Do The Ironman? Part 5

I first heard of Sister Madonna Budder through Phil Keoghan’s (host of ‘The Amazing Race’) book ‘No Opportunity Wasted’. Sister Budder is the 80-year-old nun who has completed many Ironman triathlons including the Hawaii Ironman World Championships in Kona. I thought: if she could do it at her age, I could do it! However, I could not even comprehend how much preparation and training was involved in completing the 226K multi-discipline event. Years later, I met this fit and inspiring competitor at the Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Clearwater, Florida in 2008 and 2009. I had to do my best, and I did do my best with her racing side-by-side. I was absolutely stoked being with her in the race that I, earlier, earned a qualification for.

Integrated within every Ironman World Championship DVD are powerfully inspiring stories about competitors who survived near-death ordeals, physical challenges, or are near-death. Jon ‘Blazeman’ Blais defied impending death and a crippling medical condition to complete his personal quest one year; and watch the event from his wheelchair in the next. We celebrate his memory by rolling on our belles, across the finishing-line. 4-time Ironman world champion Chrissie Wellington did the ‘Blazeman Roll’ in almost every one of her wins (symbolic of her fight against ALS disease), and stayed on after her victory to cheer on the remainder of the field.

Chrissie's biography which chronicles her meteoric rise from a woman with control issues to world-class champion athlete.

The father-and-son team, ‘The Hoyts’ is a synergistic collaboration that fulfills the human hunger to achieve and accomplish. Father tows and pushes his son through a complete Ironman for his son feels so much alive to be part of a race that saw its humble beginnings in 1978. One is smitten by their love and mutual respect for each other, braving the elements and challenging the odds to complete the race.

These amazing and inspiring people in Ironman help bring out the best in us. It is through their thoughts, words and deeds that we feel what we feel, and are humanized in the process. Ironman is more than a demanding personal physical challenge. It is a celebration of the human spirit that defies unthinkable odds, to emerge victorious and celebrating.

Why Do The Ironman? (Part 4)

‘A man who is a master of patience is master of
everything else.’ – GEORGE SAVILE

Patience is what you learn very early in triathlons. You will be close friends with loneliness, and being alone. Incessant stroking in the pool-lanes, long runs, and longer rides. You can get philosophical as you perform repetitive work with little promise of payment, or a promissory note. We do all these laborious work for self-satisfaction and self-fulfillment.

Triathlons – whether its faster powerful cousin, the sprint or Olympic Distance or its relative of humble beginnings, the Ironman – is a sport that tests more than three disciplines. It is a personal test of will, willpower and many other values, including tenacity, patience, determination, diligence, endurance, persistence, and sense of purpose.

It is a sport not without its risk. You can drown, break your bones, and suffer seizures. Yet, it still attracts many new entrants every year. Are these individuals, risk-takers or those with a personal death wish? Not many, as I believe that there are more extreme sports where eminent demise is a higher and likelier possibility. This sport invites 'the pedestrian of us' to shy from its allure of pain. Pain is not so attractive, when it can manifest itself from the start till the end of the race. And, we are not talking about muscle cramps (from riding or running) or a bruised cheek from a swim. We can be defeated by stomach disorders born of stress, nutritional setbacks, or a bodily meltdown. The body will fight you to surrender after a few hours of prolonged physical assault. It is only natural to resist and battle any instance of pain or discomfort.

In spite of these potential ‘let-downs’, the purveyor of the 226K-triathlon may be intrigued by the possibility of having the ‘perfect race’. A personal best time is reward enough for many; for others, it is the fact that you completed a tough course, harsh weather and testing terrain. Every course/race is different. Same course, vastly different weather patterns on another year. The variables are too many to compute accurately, and it is consistent and specific training that reduces the chances of disappointment.

There are no easy days ahead. The military special force units would state vehemently: ‘The only easy day was yesterday!’

Julie Moss's crawl towards the finish-line of the Hawaii Ironman, demonstrated part of the essence of the human spirit and allure of Ironman triathlons.

Why Do The Ironman? (Part 3)

Julie Moss's epic crawl towards the finish-line stopped hearts and started a revolution.

Holes in our heads: That’s what it is. Perhaps, finishers of the day-long triathlon are attempting to patch a gapping hole in their heads. Or, are they merely filling a need for personal accomplishment and achievement?

Let’s be clear: we can do a lot more with the time these long-distance athletes invest into their training. Who would rather spend their time sleeping than push off on their bikes for a 60-100K ride? If you ask these dedicated athletes, I am sure that they would rather elect sleep than spinning. The roads are none too safe these days for the knights on iron-steads. I was hit by cab while riding in 2010 (one month before Ironman New Zealand, and I ran into the back of a parked van two months ago. Both were costly exercises in training, yet I learnt to be resilient and re-focus my mind and recovering body on my goals.

Having completed my first Ironman triathlon in 2006 (and a few more along the way), I can vouch for the intense and immense joy and exhilaration of completing the event. You experience another burst of adrenaline which mask your pain as you dash across the line, to receive your medal, beach-towel (wrapped around you like a king’s cape) and the announcement ‘You’re an Ironman!’ (and that applies to both genders). Then, reality sinks in and your flood of emotions get mired with the cramping, and decidedly convenient time for your body to go limp with exhaustion.

The ultra-marathoners know no differently. Anything upwards of a full marathon adds to the challenge factor. I interviewed Singapore’s Kua Jarn Wei and American, Wayne Kurtz – these amazing Deca-Ironman finishers are tough as nails, and just as nuts as the rest of us. However, they are also great guys to hang out with. Every post-race conversation describes, invariably, the toughest parts of the course, but scarcely any reference to how tough these competitors were. Also, the on-course civility and rendering of assistance to your struggling fellow competitors reveals much about such a 'crazy sport'; also, the legion of volunteers who make these races all possible and purposeful. Such is the humility and humanity we get to observe at these obscure and seemingly unimportant events.

I applaud my fellow competitors for attempting and completing. Sometimes, you make the cut-off times, sometimes you don’t (due to a variety of reasons; mainly illness, infection and crippling fatigue). It is the journey that matters and which may have taken 6-12 months to lead you to your destination. The real drama of athletic competition expresses itself through the courageous exploits of the Everydayman doing their first Ironman. I am also inspired by the physically-challenged athletes who pedal their way purely by their hands and arms to complete their races; others who hop and run on carbon-blades (and who I hope do not catch up with, and they have) during the marathon. These episodes in life’s soap-opera are unmatched for their spontaneity, spirit and seriousness. It was also Julie Moss’s crawl to complete her near-win race that captured the hearts of thousands around the world. Perhaps, it is this spirit of wanting to do something, regardless of the implications and consequences, or getting to the finish-line is all that matters!

As Fox would reiterate before each race: ‘The pain is temporary, but the memories are endless!’ And in Ironman, there are numerous stories and an abundance of memories to rely on. 

(Continued tomorrow: Part 4)

Why Do The Ironman? Part 2

Craig ‘Fox’ Holland led me in my first 10K run along Singapore’s East Coast Park. Till then, I had never ventured beyond 10K in a race or training run. He recently completed IM Melbourne in 10:38 – not shabby for a 51-year-old who completed Kona in 2005. Having completed dozens of triathlons and run races, he was the most suitable person to convince me to plunge into endurance sports.

My first 10K run during my training was mind-shifting. Due to years doing anaerobic-type activities, I was concerned that I would damage my body with long-distance, endurance-type activities. This paradigm held me back for some time, before I saw results in the all the three disciplines. The major obstacles then, was converting form breast-stroke to the front-crawl, and learning to ride a road-bike. Having run track (in the 1,500m & 3,000m Steeplechase), I transitioned (that strange word, and place) into the running formats of 10K, 21K and 42K quite quickly.

In my first foray to multi-disciplinary sports, I registered for a biathlon (swim-run). I swam and ran without a drop of fluid, experienced the ‘bonk’, which manifested as mild ‘heat exhaustion’ and I ended up in the ambulance. I have no recollection, till this day, of how I completed the race. Apparently, I ran off the road, onto the beach, past the finishing-line, and was headed out to the sea. Fortunately, several volunteers led me back, removed my timing-chip, and I ended with my first finishing time (to this day, still a complete amnesia). Soon after, I survived that scary ordeal (and warnings from family) to complete a 21K run, a marathon, and a full Olympic Distance triathlon. Then, I was ready for the big time.

Training for my first Ironman race was exciting, and scary at the same time. Training was dissected into portions, divided unequally over three disciplines. The weaker one is in a discipline, the more time was expected to enhance that deficiency. Each discipline can domino down to disappointment if we do not connect the dots well. The swim and ride determines your marathon; that’s about 183.8K later.

About a dozen Ironman triathlons later, I am still embarked on a journey to uncertainty. My 13^th Ironman will be in Switzerland in July. Yet, there is a premise and promise of better things to come. It is not about the finisher’s medal, finisher’s t-shirt, bragging rights and enhanced resume. It may be that heightened sense of awareness that I am not alone in my personal quest for that something, that continues to attract many more in the years to come.

Or, as Ironman Hall of Fame recipient Bob Babbitt said: ‘It may be like the hole in the head of the first Ironman trophy.’ Yes, we all have that hole in the head that suggests we are missing a piece, or needs a piece to be filled in. 

(To be continued: Part 3)

Why Do The Ironman? Part 1

Where's Whally? My name on my Finisher's tee-shirt for Ironman Lanzarote 2011.

I have been asked this question many times; and I am always enthusiastic about answering, as my responses are mildly different each time.

There is really no simple answer to this persistent question.

Some of my listeners (from the laiety) may think I am crazy; I am sure some may even question my sanity (or lack of it). After all, it is perceived as a grueling, physical challenge comprising 3.8K of swimming, 180K of riding, and then completing a full 42.195K marathon. Now, what would possess a sane and normal person ‘to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes’? As my wise mother stated, time and again, to me: 'Isn't there a better to rest your weary bones?' Later, I would realise fully what she meant - such is the allure of wisdom and insight.

I recall that in the early 1980’s, when I was in secondary school, I was tuned in to my favourite sports program ‘The ABC Wide World of Sports’. What I saw changed my paradigm about sports, my life, and my perception about humankind (okay, in those days, I thought about ‘mankind’). The image was powerful and dense, albeit subtle and almost meaningless. The short report was about the Ironman triathlon in Hawaii. The most vivid image was during the marathon where people jogged into the night, some walking, and some limping. The sight of struggling athletes braving to beat the deadline was immensely powerful, and emotional for me. I daresay I shed a few tears, as the imagery I saw was painful, poignant and possessing. I let this experience simmer in my mind for several decades. I would never have thought of attempting this challenge, let alone a full marathon or a 2.4-mile swim in the open-sea (God forbid, I saw ‘Jaws’ and would never commit to swimming in the ocean at any time in deep waters) or ride four times the widest length of Singapore.

I spent the early part of my adulthood, participating in the ‘sport’ of bodybuilding. I was risking my life, heaving chunks of iron-plates, and listening to heavy-metal music to hype myself up for my next set of bench-press or full-squats. I was surrounded by self-indulgent, narcissistic, body-worshipping bodybuilders who posed their muscles before spit-polished mirrors in gymnasiums with strategically-positioned lighting. In spite of anabolic-steroid induced muscle-heads around me, I managed to earn three bronzes and one silver medal on the national level, qualify for the national B-squad, and be utterly disappointed by the level of pharmaceutical-dependent cheats that held top-rostrum. I may have been naïve when I took up the sport as a natural bodybuilder, so after four futile attempts at the first-place, I decided to retire and seek new pastures for my creative outlets.

Corporate life lured me soon after my stint as a trade journalist, so I swapped pen-and-notepad for whiteboard-markers-and-notebook (actually, we had laptops then). I was involved in my company’s sports and recreation club, ran track for them (would you believe in my non-pet event, 4X400m), assist in setting up their first in-house gym, and then synergistically collaborated to secure bronze and silver awards for the National Health Awards. Meanwhile, my blood-pressure was holding court at normal, while my cholesterol and triglycerides levels were accumulating.

It was in 2001, when I met my colleague (and, subsequently, triathlon coach) that he planted his idea of sporting lifestyle in me…

(To be continued tomorrow)