TIM HEMING

Is ‘mechanical doping’ a looming problem in tri? Tim delves in to a murky world…

“‘Look at the profiles of the bikes used in Kona. You could hide a small child in the frame… let alone a tiny motor’”

When Femke van den Driessche was caught with a motor in her bicycle’s seat-post at the cyclocross U23 Worlds earlier this year, it appeared one of the more outlandish sports stories of 2016. The notion of mechanical assistance in a bike race seemed too obscure to be plausible, particularly for a sport with such pitiful prize money. The Belgian’s improbable denials did little to clarify a baffling episode, and led to many dismissing it as an aberration from a naive young rider.

There’s a more cynical perspective though, and one that will indulge conspiracy theorists as much as it will disappoint those clinging to the integrity of competition. Cycling’s dark past is littered with isolated incidents that later proved endemic in drug-ravaged pelotons. If Ven den Driessche was prepared to take such elaborate steps to cheat, would those with far greater incentive not explore the options?

Such was the question Irish journalist Ger Gilroy put to Lance Armstrong in a recent interview. “In 1999 motors were for motorcycles. Are you out of your mind? Are you crazy?” the Texan retorted. At face-value, Armstrong had a point. Even in a discussion about doping, the question jarred, yet scratch just a little and its merits become clear.

French television station Stade 2 has alleged seven cyclists ‘moto-doped’ at two races in Italy in March; five with bottom bracket motors, two using rear wheel magnet systems. Gilroy dug further and tracked down Istan Varjas, a Hungarian engineer, who developed a prototype as far back as 1998.

Varjas claims he persuaded French police to approach the UCI, cycling’s governing body, to advise screening bikes, only for them to be turned away. “The scandal is not whether a motor is used or not used,” he says. “If there is an organisation that is supposed to stop this problem, they are complicit.”

He would not be drawn on whether he supplied professional cyclists, but willingly admitted to providing motors to Michele Ferrari, the disgraced Italian doctor linked with Armstrong, to help riders perform the equivalent of high-speed moto-pacing without needing to draft a vehicle.

“He’s a friend,” he says. “He understands how to use it for training. It’s better than being behind a scooter because you can make the same effort but not inhale the smoke. The motor is very small, you can put it any place on the bike. The limit is the budget not the technology.”

If mechanical cheating is a problem for cycling, it’s also a risk for triathlon and the International Triathlon Union, the sport’s governing body, has taken steps to combat the issue by licensing the UCI’s technological fraud software.

“It will allow the ITU, our national federations and continental confederations, as well as other triathlon event companies to minimise the possibility of foul play,” says president Marisol Casado.

Gergely Markus, the ITU sport director, was trained alongside 11 other technical officials, and adds: “I feel that the course prepared us well to not only detect mechanical fraud, but also educate the triathlon community.”

“They do check our bikes before races,” Jonny Brownlee confirms. “I’ve been there where they check the diameter and it won’t be long before they start checking with radio signals or x-rays.”

Ironman says it’s working closely with the ITU to arrange testing, but neither David McNamee nor Joe Skipper, two UK professional longdistance triathletes who both raced in the World Ironman Championship in Hawaii this year, have had their bikes checked. While there’s no suggestion that mechanical doping has crossed into triathlon, increased vigilance would be welcome. As another pro suggested put to me: “Look at the profile of the bikes used in Hawaii. You could almost hide a small child in the frame… let alone a tiny motor.”

Lionel Sanders produced the fastest recorded Ironman-branded time (7:44) in Arizona, with fellow Canadian Brent McMahon six minutes behind. Both made the all-time top 10 over the iron-distance, with half of the list from races in 2016, and the earliest dating back to 2011. It’s almost a decade since Chrissie Wellington raised the bar for the women, now the men are doing it en masse. [For more on Sanders and his record-breaking ways, head to p18.]

Marisol Casado’s personal admission that she would like to see the Olympic distance cut in half for Tokyo 2020 caused ructions in the triathlon community, with critics decrying the punchier, ‘tv-friendly’ format. Leaving aside the merits of a switch, I was taken by the piercing analogy struck by one commenter who said if the aim was simply broader appeal to TV viewers they should adapt the fencing so that body protection was banned and they used real swords. Q 220