Blade Runner (9 page)

The IAAF met in March 2007 in Mombasa, Kenya,
and ruled to modify what is known as Rule 144-2 (I
can now recite it off by heart). Basically it prohibits
the use during a race of 'any technical devices designed
to improve performance'. It expressly prohibits the use of
'any technical device that guarantees to the athlete making
use of this technology an advantage over those athletes not
beneficiaries of this technology'.

Many knowledgeable sports commentators speculated that
possibly the rule had been brought into existence to prevent
me from competing in able-bodied international athletics
competitions, not only because of its wording and implications
but because of the expedited manner in which the
decision was passed. For example, Track Fast, who are
behind various British sporting events, and who had invited
me to compete in Glasgow, immediately contacted me to
explain that on the basis of this IAAF decision they felt
obliged to cancel my invitation. Interestingly, though, I had
not received any official notification from the IAAF and
ostensibly the ruling had nothing to do with me.

In June of that year the IAAF issued a press release which
stated that article 144-2 was not to be interpreted as
concerning my sporting participation, at least not until
sufficient testing could prove that my prostheses were in fact
a 'technical advantage' over my fellow competing athletes.
Nick Davies, the IAAF press secretary, telephoned Peet and
clearly stated that as things stood there was no interdiction
to my participation and I was free to compete. There is no
doubt that all the polemic, along with the confusion that
reigned, made the situation difficult for me. I did my best
to keep my head down and focus on my training, and I
was absolutely overjoyed when Peet contacted me to tell me
that I was registered to compete in an important race in
Rome.

Peet had been in contact with Gigi D'Onofrio (a man for
whom I have great respect) who is the organiser of the
Golden Gala event in Rome and who was quite happy to
accept any criticism or negative press interest that my
participation was likely to attract. It was hugely important
for us to have established such a good relationship with this
intelligent and open-minded man, who was happy to take
responsibility for his choices. He gave me the opportunity to
prove myself on the world stage.

And so it was, after two years' preparation, that in July
2007 I set off for Rome. I was so excited by my good fortune
and the marvellous opportunity that lay before me.

The date 13 July 2007 will be engraved in my memory for
ever; it was the day of the 400-metre race. The weather was
magnificent, and we took the bus to the stadium to warm up
and prepare for the race. The setting was striking: the
stadium is a spectacular edifice surrounded by ancient statues
of Roman athletes. The public support was strong and the
atmosphere in the stadium electric. That evening the race was
taking place at the Olympic Stadium. As the build-up to the
race picked up momentum I was particularly nervous. I was
used to competing in South Africa against athletes who were
all familiar to me and from whom I more or less knew what
to expect. This, on the other hand, was an entirely new and
intimidating challenge. I had to force myself to focus on
giving my best and making the most of the occasion.

I started the race quite slowly but, as is my style, picked
up speed and by the last hundred metres I had moved from
seventh position to finish second in the race. I was exhausted
but jubilant. I had come second with a time of 46.90, but
more importantly it was the first time ever that a differently
abled athlete had competed alongside able-bodied athletes at
international level.

W
ITH THE GOLDEN GALA
behind me, I left for England
the next day where I had been invited to compete in
the Norwich Union British Grand Prix in Sheffield, which is
an equally prestigious competition.

This is more or less where the similarities stop. The
atmosphere in England was completely different. The press
seemed to be leading the controversy that surrounded my
participation by giving exaggerated column space both to
unsupported insinuations as well as a more technical debate
about the supposed advantage represented by my prostheses.
They were soliciting public participation by launching opinion
polls on my case. It was very difficult for me and left me
feeling insecure.

The sports reporters chose the pre-race press conference to
bombard me with questions regarding the IAAF ruling. I did
my best to keep my calm and reiterate a point that I
considered of paramount importance, namely that had I
believed that my Cheetahs provided any sort of technical
advantage over the other athletes I would have retired from
the competition myself. I valued the principles of fair
competition and good sportsmanship above all others. Of
course, my thoughts (and my answers to their questions for
that matter) held little sway with the press corps who
continued hammering on.

Admittedly my morale was low, but the final straw came
when I awoke on the morning of 15 July, which was the day
of the 400-metre race. It was raining heavily and of course
no athlete likes to compete in those circumstances, but for me
it is particularly disastrous, as my Cheetahs don't perform
exceptionally well on a wet track.

As race time neared the weather showed no sign of
improving and so I found myself facing a difficult decision.
Was it preferable to pull out of the race and miss the
opportunity to compete (an opportunity that, considering the
prevailing furore over my invitation to the event, now
seemed even more valuable) or race, however nasty the
climatic conditions, and risk a disappointing performance
that would be both embarrassing in the press and perhaps
prejudicial to my goal of qualifying for the Olympics. I had
never before backed down in the face of a challenge, but on
this occasion for the first time I seriously contemplated it.

I was incredibly stressed and struggled to concentrate
during the warm-up. The downpour continued unabated and
the rubber track was very slippery; what was more, I was
running alongside the invincible Jeremy Warner who at that
time was the fastest man in the world over 400 metres. The
only light on the horizon was the warm welcome given to me
by the Sheffield home crowd as my name was announced
over the loudspeakers.

The race began and within the first 100 metres I could feel
I was losing pace. Try as I might, and I gave the race my all,
I did not manage to pick up any speed, and I crossed the
finish line last. Then to add insult to injury I was disqualified
from the race for having left my lane. As I said, no athlete
likes to run in the rain – it is not pleasant, and you can barely
see where you are going with the rain in your eyes. But with
my prostheses I have an additional problem, which stems
from the fact that my knee joint is further away from the
ground. The higher your knee joint the more interference
there is with the way in which you perceive the point at
which your foot touches the ground. To have a good
push-off, good balance and control it is imperative you train
in the same climatic conditions so that you become used to
the experience.

When I look back, and taking the climatic conditions into
account, I did not run a bad race that day. My time (47.65)
was closer to my personal best comparatively speaking than
that of any of the other competitors, and I was particularly
disadvantaged by the rain. So even though I came last and
the result was hardly flattering for me, I was competing
against the best and the fastest in the world. I am proud of
my performance in Sheffield and consider it a personal
victory, because I compete first and foremost against myself
but also because competing alone that evening was a mighty
challenge.

Again, at the press conference after the race the journalists
took me to task about my performance. The general thrust
of their questioning amounted to why it was that I insisted
on being able to compete against able-bodied athletes. Why
should I be permitted to compete in able-bodied athletics
when the Paralympics are designed precisely for people like
me? Again and again I explained that I had no objection to
competing in the Paralympics, but saw no reason why, if my
talent and ability permitted me to run within the qualifying
times which were prerequisites for the various able-bodied
sporting events, I should not be permitted to do both.

The upside of the controversy was that I received support
from the majority of athletes and many of the organisers
behind the top events in the international sporting calendar,
and this has been immensely valuable to me. I think they
appreciate that the qualifying times that I have achieved
demand significant sacrifice, effort and training – equal to the
sacrifice, effort and training undertaken by able-bodied
athletes – and that for this reason I am not a 'disabled
athlete' but just an athlete.

The exemplary athlete and holder of the world record
(19.72) in the 200 metres discipline for over twenty years,
Pietro Mannea, has been very vocal in his support of me. He
has publicly stated that in his professional opinion (and with
his experience on the track) the controversy surrounding my
blades is nothing but absurd, since it is undeniable that
running without the perception of one's feet on the track –
whether the track is dry or wet – will have a significant
technical and psychological impact with consequent knock-on
effects. What is more, athletes of his stature train for
many hours every day in the run-up to important races,
whereas I am obliged to curtail the time I spend training as
the prolonged and intense chafing of my stumps against my
prostheses often leads to the development of sores and
injuries. In Pietro's words, if one takes these two aspects of
my physical and mental preparation into account, along with
the intense training and sacrifice necessary for me to achieve
this level of competitive performance, one can only commend
me as an example of pure athletics. I have often wished the
IAAF saw in my participation the same paradigm.

There are of course some athletes who see things differently.
Marlon Shirley, the world-famous Paralympian athlete and
100-metre champion (he ran the 100 metres in 11.08),
commented a couple of years ago that as he is a single amputee
(officially classified as T44) he does not believe it fair that he
should have to compete against a bilateral amputee (T43) like
myself. He took issue with the fact that during the Athens
Paralympics I competed against the T44 athletes but, as I have
stated, I made this choice precisely because there were no T43
athletes with qualifying times anywhere close to mine.

With the Sheffield race behind me, I returned to South
Africa, feeling very dispirited. The atmosphere in England,
fuelled by all the negativity and controversy in the British
press (aided and abetted by the British downpour), had
thrown a pall over my achievement and I had come seriously
to doubt that I would receive a second chance as the IAAF
seemed absolutely set on ruling against my prostheses. Even
the South African media, who had always been among my
staunchest supporters, had begun to doubt my actual athletic
talent.

The sporting season was over but I knew that the coming
autumn would bring with it the greatest of all challenges.
The IAAF had decided to take the necessary steps to put the
controversy to bed; they had scheduled tests for November
2007 to prove definitively whether or not my prostheses
constituted a technical advantage over other athletes. The
tests were to be held under the aegis of the Cologne Sports
University and to be supervised by the renowned Professor of
Biomechanics, Doctor Paul Brüggemann, in conjunction with
Mr Elio Locatelli, who is responsible with the IAAF for all
technical issues.

In actual fact the IAAF investigation was already under
way: the IAAF had decided to make the most of my
participation at the Golden Gala in Rome to install high-resolution
cameras right along the length of the track, so as
to provide themselves with the technical footage necessary to
analyse whether or not my prostheses could in fact be
considered a technical advantage over my competitors. I had
been advised that there would be additional cameras concentrating
on the race but I had not been informed that the
purpose of these cameras was in fact to document each
moment of my race and in turn measure my stride. Only
much later did it become public knowledge that Mr Locatelli
considered my Cheetahs responsible for artificially allowing
me a wider step.

After studying the recording of the race in detail the
technicians at the University of Rome came to the conclusion
that my stride was not longer than that of other athletes.
They did note that in comparison to other athletes my
performance followed a different phase development. Unlike
most able-bodied athletes, who reach the apex of their
performance within the first 70 metres, I start the race slowly
but then pick up speed, peaking between the 200- and
300-metre marks. This conclusion then spurred Mr Locatelli
on to request that I be subject to further testing.

The tests were scheduled to take place in Germany on 12
and 13 November 2007 and were structured in such a way
that my performance would be analysed and measured
alongside five other able-bodied athletes who had run the
400 metres with qualifying times similar to my own.

I felt confident that these tests would definitively prove my
position and show once and for all that my prostheses did
not in any way afford me a technical advantage over other
athletes. I hoped that by persuading my critics I would also
be able to clear my way to realise my dream and participate
in the Olympics.

The tests themselves were conducted in a circus-like
atmosphere. I was at the centre of a throng made up of
doctors, scientists, technicians and then the cameramen who
were filming the procedure for the IAAF; the pressure on me
was intense. My only support was Peet, my manager, who
did his best to lift my morale, but it was a challenging
experience for both of us, further complicated by the knee
injury I was nursing at the time.

This was the first time ever that the IAAF (or anyone else
for that matter) had dedicated time and resources to researching
the question of prosthetics. The use of prosthetics
was completely unregulated, particularly when compared to
the reams of regulations that apply to the type and design of
the running shoes one can use while racing. The reason for
this was because until I was admitted to compete in the
top-tier competitive athletic events, prostheses were only used
in Paralympic events. In actual fact there is very little to
differentiate between the prostheses on the market today
(basically they are designed according to the weight of the
person who will wear them). This is partly because there are
so few companies that produce prosthetic limbs (namely the
German companies Isatec and Otto Bock and the Icelandic
firm Ossur, which has been supplying me since 2004). I feel
strong in the knowledge that this is not simply a debate about
my athletics and my dream to compete in the Olympics, but
rather that it is about discrimination – for me any athlete who
shows sufficient talent and dedication should be allowed to
take his or her place and compete against the best in the world.

Once the tests were over I left Germany feeling relaxed and
optimistic. Unfortunately it did not last for long. In December
2007 the IAAF sent me their official report, which stated
that over a distance of 400 metres my prosthetic limbs did
indeed constitute an unfair advantage over other athletes.
This amounted to a banning order, which would make it
impossible for me to compete among able-bodied athletes
internationally. Professor Brüggemann concluded his argument
by explaining that, in his opinion, carbon fibre prostheses
constitute a 'mechanical advantage' when one analyses
the energy restored to the athlete by the blade (the bottom of
the prostheses). The scientists had compared the movement
in my prostheses with what happens to the human ankle
when maximum sprinting speed is attained and had concluded
that at that moment I was benefiting from an unfair
advantage over the other athletes.

In synthesis Professor Brüggemann's report states the
following:

• I am able to run at the same speed as able-bodied athletes
  while expending 25 per cent less energy because once I
  attain the speed in question, running on prostheses requires
  less energy outlay than running on normal limbs.
  
• The mechanics of racing while running on prostheses is
  totally different from that seen among able-bodied athletes,
  as is the energy restored from the track to the athlete.
  The energy restored to the prosthetic limb is over three
  times higher because it has a flexibility quota of over 90
  per cent, unlike that of a human foot that is unlikely to
  exceed 60 per cent.
  
• A prosthetic limb loses about 9.3 per cent of the energy
  unlike the human ankle that loses more than 41.4 per cent
  and so in other words the mechanic advantage given by the
  prosthetic limb can be quantified as more than 30 per cent.
  

Basically my prostheses allow me to run at the same speed as
other athletes while expending far less energy, and it is for
this reason that I am at my best towards the end of the
400-metre race and not at the beginning.