Friday, August 24, 2012

The Lance Decision


Lance Armstrong has announced he will not fight the latest charges being brought against him by the United States Anti-Doping Agency (USADA). USADA is accusing Armstrong of using performance enhancing drugs during his Tour de France winning streak from 1999-2005. Is this an indication that Lance is guilty of these charges, since he's decided not to contest them? Is Lance really tired of the fight? Or, was this the smartest play that Lance could make? It's a very, very convoluted topic, and what follows is the official take of The Junes.

First, I don't believe for a second that Lance is tired of the fight--he never tires of any fight. He's just very smart about which battles he takes on, and which he walks away from. His decision to not contest the charges has more to do with the end result. Lance had two options: he could go to arbitration, which could last for weeks, which would mean that every day in the news there would be a report about another former teammate testifying that Lance used PED's, or another report about a possible failed drug test--it would be a daily badgering of his reputation. Or, he could choose to not fight, claim that USADA is on a witch hunt and that the charges are baseless, and not have to go through a nasty process. Either way, Lance knew that the end result would be the same: USADA was going to find him guilty. In a criminal case or Federal case, they need to prove that the accused cheated beyond a (reasonable) shadow of a doubt, but USADA only needs a semi-high level of suspicion to find someone guilty. Armstrong was willing to fight the Feds because he had a much better chance of winning, since there is no hard evidence that would help lead to a guilty ruling. But USADA doesn't need a smoking gun.

The USADA process is not a trial, so Lance can now claim that he never had his day in court. He can claim that they've unfairly targeted him since he's never officially failed a drug test. He knows he's got millions of supporters who will back him. He also knows that USADA doesn't have the power to strip him of his seven Tour de France victories. That decision would have to be made by either the UCI (the governing body of world cycling) or by the Tour de France itself. The UCI has always been in Lance's corner, so they won't push to strip him. The Tour has a tough call to make--if they decide to strip Lance of his wins, do they promote the second place finishers in each of those seven races? If so, they would would have to promote Alex Zulle, Jan Ullrich, Joseba Beloki, Andreas Kloden and Ivan Basso--all of whom have tested positive for doping or admitted to using PED's. What about elevating the third place finishers in those years? The problem is the same, as you have guys like Vinokourov and Rumsas who also have tested positive for PED's who were on the podium for those races. Or, the Tour could just leave those seven years empty. But for a race which has such a rich history and markets that rich history to its full advantage, that would leave an ugly, gaping hole to have to stare at each time you looked at the list of winners. Plus, the Tour still lists the likes of Ullrich, Bjarne Riis, Marco Pantani and Alberto Contador as past winners--all of whom have tested positive or admitted to doping. So if they wipe Lance off the books, don't they have to wipe almost 20 years of their race history off the books as well? I can't see the Tour ever deciding to do that. I think they just want to move forward and hope it all goes away. Yes, the Tour has always had a strained relationship with Lance, and they could decide to strip him, but I think that decision would open a can of worms that the Tour would rather not deal with.

USADA is now preventing Lance from competing, even though he's retired. They can prevent him from racing in the Ironman triathlon series, which he had been doing this year as a professional, but I think Lance can live without that. I hate it, because I couldn't wait to see how he would have fared against the best in the Ironman--he had already won two Half-Ironman races this spring. Lance can, however, continue to compete in other events such as the Xterra off-road triathlon series, other world-wide triathlon events, or races like the Leadville 100 mountain bike race, or marathons, etc.

In the end, Lance had two roads to take, and both ended with USADA finding him guilty of doping. He knew that USADA was 58-2 in arbitration cases. He knew his best course of action was to basically ignore USADA. Instead of going to arbitration and losing, he knew that he would be better off by ignoring USADA and maintaining his innocence. It would have been very damaging for Lance to fight, and then to have USADA trot out former teammates who are creditable (not Floyd Landis or Tyler Hamilton, but guys like George Hincapie and Levi Leipheimer, who have never failed drug tests and who were set to testify) who would have testified that they saw Lance doping, or knew of him doping. The Lance camp would argue that these witnesses either have no credibility or were blackmailed. Either way, it's to Lance's benefit that whatever evidence or testimony USADA had on their side never come out. This way, it never will.

Do I think Lance doped? I think he's a true freak of nature, and stronger in the mind than most athletes I've ever covered--yet, it's hard to believe that he won cleanly when everyone else was doping. I believe he was better than everyone, but not that much better. However, the playing field was level--practically everyone in the 90's and 00's in the pro peloton was doping, therefore, Lance was the strongest. If the entire peloton, including Lance, had been clean, I believe Lance still wins. So, while I think it was highly probably that Lance doped, I don't think it gave him an unfair advantage since everyone else was doping, too. It doesn't make what any of them did right, it's just (as Dan McDowell might say) the way it was.

I feel bad for Lance in that this is clearly a witch hunt. He is correct in that he's never failed a drug test (it should be noted that in 1999 at the Tour de France he did test positive for cortisone use, but it was dismissed after his doctors presented the Tour with a note of explanation, and that there is heavy speculation that in 2001 at the Tour of Switzerland he tested positive for EPO and that the result of that test was covered up by the UCI). So why, then, would USADA go after Lance? And why would they go after him seven years after his last Tour win? It's pretty obvious that USADA has it out for Lance, and I believe that his recent dalliance with the Ironman was too much for them to take--that they couldn't stand to see him compete again. And, when the Feds dropped their case against Lance, USADA saw this as a chance to make a big name for their organization by going after the biggest fish in the pond.

I also feel bad for the sport of cycling. There is no doubt that the sport was filthy from about 1991 (when EPO hit the scene full-force) until about 2008, and of course there are still cheaters out there. But, it's getting better. The sport has always been way ahead of the curve in terms of how it deals with cheats, but that's also meant a lot of negative publicity. The sport should be lauded for it's crusade against doping, not chided for what it's uncovered. It's a beautiful sport, and always will be. And today, it's a cleaner sport that it's been in a long, long time. But there will always be cheaters, and in every sport.

Lance will survive. He has an army of supporters, and they will continue to support him. I don't believe that his decision to not fight the USADA charges will have any long-term impact on his legacy. Those millions who love Lance will still love him, and they'll agree with his reasons not to fight. Those millions that hate Lance will, of course, still hate him. I would be shocked if the Livestrong Foundation suffers at all--I'll predict that their donations may in fact increase now, much as Penn State saw donations increase following the Sandusky scandal.

Lance made the best call. It will be difficult for him, short term, to read the headlines that he's "guilty" or that he's "been stripped of his Tour wins." Ultimately, though, his life will go on. He'll keep his Tour wins (I think), and he won't go to jail. He's basically survived every accusation levelled against him over the last 15 years. His foundation will survive, as will his legacy, for the most part. It's the best possible outcome for Lance, considering he had to choose between two negative outcomes. He chose the lesser of two evils. Whether or not Lance Armstrong contested those races by virtue of evil means is up for everyone else to now decide on their own.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Defending the ABA


This week, it was reported that Kobe moved past Shaq into 5th place on the all-time NBA scoring list. Wrong. Kobe moved past Shaq into 7th place on the all-time scoring list, not 5th.

The NBA still does not officially recognize statistics from the ABA. I don’t understand why. When you look at a list of the top passers in NFL history, you see the pre-merger AFL numbers for Joe Namath and Len Dawson and George Blanda included in their career total. There is no AFL asterisk. There are not two separate lists, one saying “NFL Only Yardage” and one saying “NFL-AFL Combined Yardage.” That’s as it should be.

Granted, I’m an ABA apologist, but I think this is an easy argument for anyone to understand. The ABA was not a minor league. The ABA was, in many ways, miles ahead of the NBA. The style of play, the coaching, the promotions, the dunking--in the 60’s and 70’s the ABA was what the NBA became in the 80’s and 90’s. In fact, it took the NBA-ABA merger (or absorption, as some say) to jump start a boring and somewhat dying NBA.

Superb, Hall of Fame players like Julius Erving, Moses Malone, George Gervin, Dan Issel, Rick Barry, and others are constantly having their great careers either downgraded or altogether ignored by the NBA and it’s followers. The ABA points scored by Dr. J came against a solid level of competition in a professional league that eventually was absorbed by the NBA--there is no reason his 11,662 points as a Virginia Squire and New York Net should not count in the eyes of the NBA. Dr. J’s numbers dipped when he came into the NBA, but it was not because of the better competition--instead it had to do with his aging knees and the dynamics of his new Sixers team.

When the two leagues merged, the ABA leftovers immediately made their presence felt. The Nuggets and Spurs were perennial playoff teams. The first post-merger All-NBA team (’76-’77) featured four ABA players (David Thompson, Gervin, Erving and George McGinnis) on the first and second teams. The next year, 3 of the 5 on the first team were from the ABA (Erving, Gervin, Thompson).

There is no doubt in my mind that the last dominant ABA team, the ’74-’76 New York Nets (who won two titles in three years), would have given the mid-70’s NBA Champion Warriors and Celtics a run for their money, or would have flat-out beaten them in a seven game series. The Nets featured Erving, John Williamson, the at-times brilliant Brian Taylor, Rich Jones, and the original Dunking Dutchman Swen Nater. They were more athletic than either the Celtics or Warriors, and, they were coached just as well (if not better) by Kevin Loughery than Boston or Golden State were by Tom Heinsohn and Al Attles.

Kobe Bryant is 7th, not 5th on the all-time scoring list. The NBA chooses to ignore the ABA point totals of Dr. J and Moses Malone, both of whom scored more points in their careers than Kobe has. Dirk is 26th on the all-time scoring list, not 21st. Dirk is behind Erving, Malone, Issel, Gervin and Artis Gilmore, not ahead of them. Gilmore’s 7,169 ABA rebounds should not be ignored (as he had to work for those against sometimes more athletic and all-out meaner front lines than he would have faced in the NBA). Gilmore should be recognized as the 5th leading rebounder of all-time--instead, the NBA ranks Gilmore 42nd. What a crime.

In November of 2010, Tim Duncan was celebrated as the Spurs all-time leading scorer, passing George Gervin with his 20,709th point. In fact, Duncan still hasn’t caught Gervin, whose own ABA-rooted organization doesn’t even acknowledge the ABA numbers put up by the Iceman. Ridiculous.

It’s time somebody stepped up and made the case for the ABA greats. I’m happy to carry the torch. Sorry Kobe, you’re 7th--you’ve still got about 1,500 more points to score before you pass Julius Erving into 5th place on the all-time scoring list.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Obsessed with 26.2


As a life-long cyclist, I never had much time for (or much interest in) running. I did, however, always wonder if I could run a marathon. Once I turned 40, I decided to give it a try. This past Sunday (two weeks shy of my 46th birthday), I completed my 8th marathon. I am obsessed with the 26.2 mile distance, and there are many reasons why.

There is a fascinating science behind running a marathon as fast as you can. So many little things go into such a big effort. My first marathon (White Rock, '07) was a blur. I was so nervous about the race that I slept only 45 minutes the night before. Once the race began, the energy gels I had tucked in my waistband immediately fell to the pavement. I started to fall apart at the halfway point. I ran in a panic the entire way. I finished in 3 hours, 29 minutes--shy of my goal of 3:20 (my Boston Marathon qualifying time). I couldn't walk for a few days. I was only starting to understand the difficulty of the process.

Experienced marathon friends of mine had told me "You'll learn something every time you run a marathon, and that'll make you better in your next one." Indeed, over the last few years, through trial and error, I've learned a great deal about my body and my mind. I've learned what kind of training works for me and what doesn't. I've learned what kind of diet works for me and what doesn't. I've learned what kind of mental approach works and what doesn't. It's one big, ongoing experiment, and that's what makes it so much fun. There is nothing more exciting than lining up at the start on race day knowing you are 3 hours away from finding out if your methods and theories will work or not--and finding out just how far you can push your body and your mind. The results can be euphoric or depressing, and that's the beauty of it all.

I got a little better in my second race (Athens, OH, '08). A 3:25, but I fell apart with two miles to go--I had massive hamstring cramp that brought me to a standstill. My third marathon was a disaster (Eugene, OR, '09). I was coming off of a stress fracture in the fall, and my training in the spring had been subpar. But, I talked myself into thinking I could run a 3:20 because I had performed well in some tune-up races. But the marathon is such a different beast from any other kind of foot race. If it were 20 miles long instead of 26.2, it would be considerably easier. Something happens at mile 20. They say the 20 mile mark is halfway in a marathon, and they're right. That day in Eugene I hit the wall so hard at mile 20 that I could barely walk. My hotel was on the race route at mile 22, and with my eyes crossed and my legs and brain feeling like jelly, I quit the race and headed straight to my room.

That fall, I ran the New York City Marathon. I went in with few expectations, and finally ran a 3:20. One of the happiest days of my life--I had finally qualified to run Boston, which I did in '10 and '11. My times in my last few marathons have always been around 3:20, with a best of 3:18 at Grandma's Marathon in Duluth last June. At age 45, I was starting to wonder if I could go much faster. I knew that at some point I was going to start to slow down, I just didn't know when.

So, this fall, I changed a lot--the ongoing experiment continued. After a huge plate of ribs in August--and an afternoon of feeling like crap--I decided to change my diet. I cut out almost all red meat, chicken, pork and dairy. I ate more fresh fruits and vegetables. I also changed my training--instead of running my long, 20 mile training runs at a fast pace, I ran them easy. That plan left my legs fresh for my speed workouts during the week, and it also led to fresh feeling legs on race day. I discovered that I was wearing myself out during training, and often arriving at the start line in less than optimal shape.

I also changed my mindset. I started racing without a watch. This was a major move. I ran a personal best in the half marathon in October with no watch--I just went on feel. It was awesome--very liberating. I recommend it to anyone. I will never run another race with a watch again.

I also read an interview with legendary triathlete Mark Allen (Inside Triathlon, Nov '11) that changed my way of thinking in a race. Allen dealt with a lot of mental demons early in his career. He couldn't ignore the negative thoughts during a race--when he was feeling bad, his mind kept telling him to quit (the same voices most of us hear). He finally figured out how to deal with the bad times during a race--he had to train his mind to to find a certain place:

"Once you give in to the negative thoughts during a race, you almost always slow down--you're almost always done. But, I found it too hard to keep pumping myself up with positive thoughts in a long event. The best place to be is between the two thoughts. It's the most powerful place. There is a silence, and in that silence you find the answers to the problems you may be having. Or you'll just feel an ease, a grace, a calm.

If you can find that space where your mind goes quiet then you don't need a positive thought to keep going--you're not thinking and analyzing and thinking if it's good or not good. You're just there putting one foot in front of the other, and all of the sudden you can feel this ease wash all over you--all over the muscles in your whole body. And then you're not really attached to whether you do your best time or don't do your best time--you're just giving your best effort that you have. And when you're in that space, all of the sudden possibility just opens up for you. And you can just feel it. You feel like "wow, maybe I can" even though you're not really worried if you do or don't. It's just this space that's like awareness--you're aware of everything going on around you but you're calm and not talking and not judging."


Wonderful advice. Advice that I put into practice last weekend. I ran the California International Marathon in Sacramento. I was feeling great in mind and body. We had perfect weather: clear, calm and 40 degrees. I ran with the 3:10 pace group until I had to let them go at mile 20 (halfway!). My goal was to run something under 3:15, but after mile 20 I had no watch and no pace group, so I had no idea what pace I was on. I ran on feel, as hard as I could, just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other--trying to find the place between the two thoughts. I finished in 3:13:38--a five minute personal best. I was elated. I was also very satisfied to know that my methods and theories had been validated--and happy to know that at almost 46 years old, I wasn't slowing down yet.

So, the obsession with the distance and the process continues. I've told myself that I won't stop running marathons as long as I keep getting faster. So how much faster can I go? Well, if I can keep chopping five minutes off of my time each race, I'll be able to run a near-world record time of 2:05 or so by my 60th birthday. Something to shoot for.