Blade Runner (10 page)

The experience was traumatic for me on many different
fronts. To begin with, I was disappointed with the way the
publication of the report was handled by the IAAF. Before I
was officially informed, the report was leaked and published
by
Die Welt
on 19 December. I learnt about the report's final
conclusion and my consequent exclusion from international
able-bodied competitions from the newspapers. It was a
devastating blow. Initially I clung to the hope that it was an
incorrectly reported journalistic scoop, but the truth was of
course confirmed when the IAAF finally delivered my copy of
the report to me a few days later. I was distraught at the
conclusion of the report.

As the saying goes, it never rains but it pours. In December
2007 Vicky and I finally separated permanently.

After our initial break-up we had got back together in June
2007, but it was never plain sailing. I trained and travelled
intensely and she was living in Cape Town. We tried to see
one another on alternate weekends with one of us always
flying to spend time with the other. In addition I did not
approve of her new group of university friends, and this
caused much friction between us. The difficulty of maintaining
a long-distance relationship weighed heavily on us, and
so in early December 2007 Vicky decided to move back to
Pretoria. We spent the holidays with my siblings but then on
New Year's Eve we had a terrible argument that proved fatal
to the relationship.

We have not spoken to one another since, but I care about
her and respect her deeply. I wish things were different
because she is an incredible individual and I have always
imagined sharing my life with her.

T
HE YEAR
2008 got off to a rough start. My break-up with
Vicky left me emotionally raw, and then the IAAF had
given us only until 10 January to comment on the Brüggemann
report.

Peet and I discussed the findings with experts from all over
the world, but in particular with Professor Robert Gailey of
Miami University. Everybody seemed to agree in principle
with the statistical findings that had emerged from Professor
Brüggemann's research but not with his interpretation and
use of this data. In addition we thought it important not to
be discouraged by, and therefore appeal against, a decision
that took only the advantages of prosthetic limbs into
account but considered none of the disadvantages. Professor
Gailey did not contest the validity of Brüggemann's data but
postulated that for it to be useful and truly reflective of my
performance it was essential that each phase of the 400-metre
race be analysed in the same manner. Any analysis that
examined only to the final phase of the race was by definition
limited and therefore incorrect when applied to the race as a
whole. In addition he argued that it was vital to take both
the positive and negative consequences of prosthetic limbs
into consideration. It was one thing to study the advantages
the Cheetahs provide over normal ankles/feet but one must
also consider the differences in my physical development as
a whole. Furthermore, the IAAF ban prohibited me from
competing at any distance – 100 metres, 200 metres or 400
metres – whereas the Brüggemann report stated that my
supposed technical advantage over other athletes could
only be demonstrated in the last 200 metres of a 400-metre
race.

Professor Gailey and my other supporters pressed me at
the very least to request the IAAF to allow me a period of
time in which I could attempt to bring my prosthetic limbs
into line with their standards, as is typically the case during
the approval process for able-bodied athletes' shoes.

Throughout this process Professor Brüggemann clearly
stated that his brief was in no way concerned with the
ethical, political or social implications of my competing but
had only been to verify the scientific/technical advantages
(and not even the disadvantages) afforded by my prosthetic
limbs, and that in addition his research had always been
specifically limited to the final phase of the race. The position
of the IAAF was rather more ambiguous: Mr Locatelli, the
Chief Technical Officer for the IAAF, is on record explaining
that their reservations were also geared towards the future of
the sport, and making sure that one day there were not
people with wings competing on the track.

Professor Brüggemann's report indicates that the locomotion,
the actual dynamic of movement while sprinting, while
wearing this type of prosthetic limb, is completely different
from that required from a normal human body while
sprinting; the dynamic is entirely different. And, further, that
from a purely technical point of view, in the context of
high-speed sprinting, this specific type of prosthetic limb
certainly carries an advantage at the ankle joint level;
however, it is probable that the prostheses in question
concurrently incur disadvantages for the hip and knee joints.

On 10 January 2008 we replied that in our opinion the
tests performed in Cologne were both biased and limited in
scope, and that therefore we rejected their conclusions.

On 11 January the President of the IAAF, Mr Lamine
Diack, wrote to each member of the IAAF Executive Council
reiterating that the tests had confirmed the thesis of a
'technical advantage'. The members then had to vote, with
the result being to ratify the ban to prohibit the use of
prosthetics such as mine. Unfortunately, this outcome meant
that I was promptly and officially banned from participating
in able-bodied athletic competitions.

The IAAF left no avenue open to dialogue, and we had no
choice but to appeal against their decision before the Court
of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) in Lausanne, Switzerland, and
ask the court to re-examine my case. It was a difficult time
for me and I was feeling very low, but I decided to focus on
maintaining a positive attitude and doing all I could to
prepare myself for the second round of tests.

We needed to compile a team of influential and authoritative
scientists who would be able to run the tests and also
command respect internationally. Through a friend I was
able to contact Professor Hugh Herr at the world-renowned
Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and Professor
Roger Kram from the University of Colorado; they were
joined by Professor Peter Weyand from the Rice University
in Houston.

Dewey & LeBoeuf, a well-known international law firm
with an impressive reputation in the sporting world, had also
contacted me. They felt so strongly about the merits of my
case that of their own accord they offered their help. I was
astounded at how quickly they managed to collate all the
information necessary and relevant to my case.

The next step was to fix a time when all three scientists and
their respective teams would be available to meet and work
together. As I had agreed to be present at the awards ceremony
organised for the Laureus Awards in St Petersburg in Russia
on 18 February, we agreed that I would fly directly from
Russia to Houston and begin ten days of intensive testing.

From my perspective, Houston was an entirely different
experience. First of all, before each test the team took the
time to explain to me exactly what was about to take place
and to what purpose. It was rather like a crash course in
bioengineering, and I learnt a lot from it. The scientist in
charge of the testing had decided to begin by repeating
exactly the same tests performed by Professor Brüggemann
and his team, so that we would have something to compare
against. In addition, they suggested I undergo VO2 tests (the
testing which is considered the best indicator of cardio-respiratory
endurance and a reliable predictor of athletic
performance, demonstrating the measured maximum amount
of oxygen consumption by the muscles at peak rate with the
least effort) on a treadmill and not a bicycle, so that the
conditions simulated would be closer to those of a foot race.
It was soon clear that the Houston results would differ from
those charted in Cologne.

This was a huge relief to me, as the IAAF had relied
heavily on these specific test results to demonstrate my
technical advantage. Over a period of ten days I participated
in many different tests; at times I thought that I was
repeating the same experiment endlessly, but in reality there
were slight but significant variations both in the focus and in
what was required of me. My acceleration was studied in
detail; my oxygen consumption was measured at different
speeds at different points during the race, as was the conduct
and handling of my individual prostheses. I learnt much over
this period, and left Houston feeling resolved and confident
that the process would prove that the tests in Cologne had
been inconclusive. Too many variables had been excluded
for the tests to be considered the basis for a groundbreaking
decision which would change the face of international
sport for ever and result in my being banned from
able-bodied competitions. I felt that the process and the
results of the testing in Houston would set the record straight
on my account but, more importantly, would also be a step
forward for the standards of athletic competition internationally.

I had not been back in South Africa long when I was asked
to return to Houston to undergo further examination. I
obliged and promptly flew back for another eight days of
intensive testing. By the end of March we had reached the
definitive conclusion that in no way could my prostheses be
considered as giving me a technical advantage over other
athletes. When one considers all the hard work and emotional
turmoil, all the controversy and speculation, it was
immensely gratifying finally to be able to repudiate my critics
and show that my achievements were mine alone and
dependent on my commitment, training and talent and not
my prosthetic limbs.

Still, with the tests behind me, the battle was not yet won.
We had to wait until 30 April, the day on which the Court
of Arbitration in Sport had convened a hearing and to which
all the concerned parties had been summoned.

I soldiered through this difficult time by keeping my mind
focused on my training schedule and with a little help from
my new home and a new and special presence in my life.

At the beginning of 2008, I had started going out with
Jenna, a delightful, sweet-natured, beautiful girl with blonde
hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was eighteen. We had been
honest with one another from the outset and I had explained
to her that I was still not entirely ready for another serious
relationship. On some level I still missed Vicky terribly, and
although our relationship was over I still had to come to
terms with the hurt I felt. I was of the opinion that it was
important not to rush into things, and I feel that we have a
beautiful relationship because we took the time to get to
know one another, and because our relationship developed
from a strong and meaningful friendship.

My new home in Silverwoods, one of the nicest and
greenest parts of Pretoria, has gone a long way towards
helping me feel more stable and rooted in my life. After my
mother's passing and my years in boarding school I found
that I was yearning for a space of my own that I could make
my home. In truth the house is much larger than I need, but
I wanted it to be somewhere I would be able to grow into
and where all of my family and friends would be welcome to
spend time or just drop in. Everybody who knows me knows
that no formal invitation is necessary. I had a carpenter make
up a wonderful and very substantial wooden table which is
my pride and joy, as I can think of nothing better than
reuniting all the people I care about around a large table and
some good food. I am still very close to my brother Carl and
have told my sister Aimée that she is welcome to come and
live with me. The house is open-plan and all on one floor
with wide doors so everyone – the old, the young, as well as
those among my friends who use wheelchairs – is at ease and
feels comfortable moving about. It has a number of television
screens so we can all hang out together and watch sport,
along with a fantastic sound system and a great barbecue
area so we can make the most of being together and celebrate
life. I have not forgotten the harder times of my youth and
feel so lucky today that I can share my good fortune with my
loved ones.

One day I would love to buy a Ferrari or a Lamborghini.
I adore sports cars, but that is for the future. A house is
something you can share with all those you care about
whereas a car is more about personal gratification.

When the time came to travel to Lausanne to the joint
International Olympic Committee and the Court of Arbitration
in Sport headquarters, I was a heady mixture of nervous
anticipation and dread. Fortunately Peet was at my side
throughout. The hearings took place over two days and,
although I found the pace intense, I was absolutely gripped.

President Martin Hunter working alongside the judges
David Rivkin and Jean-Philippe Rochat composed the judicial
team. They set the tone by pointedly reminding all
concerned that I had not been accused of any wrongdoing;
their mandate was only to examine the issue objectively and
study the data and conclusions of the two different tests to
come to a well-considered and factually correct decision as
to whether my prosthetic limbs could indeed be considered
as a technical advantage of any sort. As the judges did not
have the benefit of a court-appointed technical expert they
asked all the experts present, German and American, to come
together and take the time to explain to them the technical
aspects of the question pending, along with the rationale
behind and process followed for the different tests and, of
course, the conclusions reached. It was rather unusual to see
everybody come together and debate and dissect the matter
intelligently and dispassionately, without the adversarial
climate that is often created when you have two opposing
teams and a person in the dock who has allegedly committed
some misdemeanour.

I found the experience absolutely fascinating. I had not
really understood until then the revolutionary nature of the
testing programme. It really was the first time that a bilateral
amputee athlete had been deemed capable of competing at
such a high level, and so there was no data or parameters
against which to compare the information gathered during
my tests. In addition, as I had been tested twice, over two
intense periods of time and close together, the tests provided
more of a snapshot of my capability at that point in time
than any definitive conclusion. The only other athlete who is
also a bilateral amputee and competes at a similar level is an
American university student who is in any case an Iron Man
triathlon champion and specialises in long-distance swimming,
cycling and running. Our sporting styles are hardly
comparable.

The tone of the court hearings was not relentlessly serious.
At one point the President found himself wondering out loud
how one would analyse the movement of a kangaroo from a
bioengineering perspective. No sooner was the thought out
of his mouth than Professor Roger Kram from Houston
jumped out of his seat excitedly explaining that he was in
fact an expert on the movement of kangaroos and that he
had even tested them by having them jump on a treadmill
equivalent.

I also found the hearings psychologically very demanding.
Not only was this my last chance, but my battle, which had
started as a personal quest born out of personal frustration,
had developed into a symbolic fight against discrimination. I
felt that I had come to represent all people like me, both
today and in the future, who play sport or anything else for
that matter and who want to be treated as equals.