To the healthiest go rowing’s spoils
RIO DE JANEIRO— In a lot of ways, the lagoon in which they’ll hold the Olympic rowing regatta beginning Friday is far superior to its recent predecessors.
Rowing venues are often distant satellites far removed from the bustling inner orbit of the Games. So while most athletes were contesting a memorable Olympics four years in vibrant London, for instance, the rowers and their counterparts in the canoe and kayak disciplines were based about an hour’s drive from the city amid rural pastures.
In Rio, in stark contrast, they’ll be racing in the thick of the city, in a body of water ringed by long list of urban intrusions. Abutting the course are busy streets, tall buildings, a bike path. Off the starboard side of the racing vessels lies a buzzing helicopter pad. And towering above — that’s the iconic statue of Christ the Redeemer overseeing it all.
“It’s an absolutely beautiful location. It’s breathtaking,” Lesley Thompson-Willie, the coxie of Canada’s women’s eight, was saying in a recent interview. “We’re usually out in a field somewhere far from everyone else. But here, we’re in the middle of it all.”
Said Carling Zeeman, Canada’s representative in women’s single sculls: “It’s beautiful . . . and noisy. But I like it.”
For all the outer beauty, there is also fear of an ugly underside. Not unlike the much-discussed bay where the sailing and open-water swimming events are to take place, the rowing lagoon has been characterized as a poisonous cess pool. According to a 16-month study by The Associated Press, the venue is filled with a long list of pathogens, including viruses with the potential to render athletes violently ill.
Thompson-Willie, who’ll be racing in her eighth Olympics at age 56, said she’s “concerned” about the situation, even if she doesn’t want to inflate the importance of the plight of those who’ll race in that water.
“We’re going down and we’re going to row on it for a period of 10 days,” said Thompson-Willie, a teacher and librarian in London, Ont. “There are people in Rio that are living with those water conditions every day.”
Still, for all her globally astute perspective, Thompson-Willie is also aware of a stark truth. It’s highly likely that more than a few athletes could have their years-long Olympic quest diminished or even aborted by the ingestion of the wrong stomach bug.
If rowing races are 2,000-metre tests of both technical skill and psychological will, the successful rower’s Olympics, the way Thompson-Willie sees it, will involve an additional 10-day obstacle course. To arrive at the start line on the appointed day in optimal form will require successfully dodging the pitfalls of possible contamination. Peter Cookson, Rowing Canada’s high-performance director, said Canada is hoping to bring home three or four rowing medals if all goes to plan. For that to happen, staying in the collective pink will be a must.
“There’s a high possibility that your Olympics will come down to which crew stays healthiest,” Thompson-Willie said.
Cookson said Thursday that the most recent test results he’s seen suggest the “water quality is very good,” although he added a caveat. That testing measured for levels of harmful bacteria but not for the viruses unearthed in the more elaborate diagnostics done by The Associated Press. In the AP’s testing, viruses were present at alarmingly high levels as recently as June.
Taking no chances, various competing nations have devised strategies to navigate the threat. In the lead-up to the Games the U.S. rowing team commissioned an antimicrobial training suit that is said to repel water and kill many microorganisms on contact. The problem with the suit, in some eyes, is that it doesn’t cover, say, one’s eyes — one of many possible points for toxic water to enter an athlete’s system.
Even on the calmest of days, splashing and sloshing are realities of the sport. The water in the lagoon inevitably ends up in the boat — and plenty of other places. When Canadian athletes raced here at a test event in October, Thompson-Willie said it got everywhere.
“It was in my mouth. It was in my eyes. As the coxie, I sit a little lower than the other athletes. But (the rowers) got it in their eyes. They got it in their ears. They got it on their hands. It’s very possible they got it in their mouth,” Thompson-Willie said.
In October, some among the Canadian contingent fell ill.
“There were gastrointestinal issues, vomiting, rashes, et cetera. Different people for varying degrees at different times,” Thompsonwillie said.
Still, Cookson points out that the cause of those ailments wasn’t clear. In October the team lived a relatively worry-free existence that offered plenty of opportunity for infections. They ate ice cream from the nearby shops. Some swam in the water off Ipanema Beach. And while they drank bottled water, they chilled it in coolers filled with ice from local taps. The illnesses could have come from any of those sources or others.
Lisa Roman, a member of the women’s eight, said her experience in training this week suggests the lagoon’s waters are more palatable than they were 10 months ago.
“To be honest, it smells a lot less,” Roman said on Thursday. “Yesterday I was sloshed quite a bit. And I’m perfectly fine today. I think that’s a positive.”
That’s not to say the Canadians are leaving their health to the fates. Rowing Canada’s performance team has developed strict protocols to avoid infections. There’s plenty of hand sanitizer in Canada’s boats, where water bottles are stored in Ziploc bags. There’s a post-training bleaching for oar handles. And Thompson-Willie said she won’t be eating or drinking anything from outside the team hotel until the competition is concluded.
“From my personal perspective, because there isn’t a spare for my position, it’s really important for me to look after myself,” she said.
Not every country is proceeding with as much caution. Pascal Lussier, a member of Canada’s men’s quadruple sculls, said he’s seen athletes from rival crews dipping their hands in the lagoon during training — even dipping their oar handles in the water. Both are common habits of competitors in the search of better grip. But given the realities lurking beneath the surface of this majestic setting, there’s a chance such practices could lead to a miserable Olympics.
“When we see other countries doing that … we’re scared for them, because we know the quality of water is not great,” Lussier said. “You don’t want to wash four years of training down the river just because you touched the water.”