Cheater?

You may have heard that the winner of this year's Tour de France, American Floyd Landis, has failed a drug test designed to catch cyclists who "dope" their blood in an effort to improve their performance. There is little question that cycling is the sport most closely associated with doping scandals, even in an era when "Barry Bonds" equals "steroids." Entire teams have been booted out of the tour in recent years; former cyclists have died due to the use of artificial stimulants, and several leading riders were shown the door this year before the Tour even started due to failed drug tests. This was also the first post-Lance-Armstrong year; the seven-time champion has never tested positive for doping, but the whiff of scandal followed him around relentlessly.

As a result of the dismissal of many prominent riders prior to the start of this year's Tour, there was a sense that this would be the first relatively clean race in a long time. Of course, cycling is the most demanding of sports, requiring the riders to travel dozens if not hundreds of miles every single day, with only two off days over the course of the three weeks. The race includes brutal climbs through the Pyrenees and Alps that would tax your car, let alone your lungs and legs while riding a bicycle. Even with the highly-publicized expulsion of riders prior to the start of the rance, the suspicion of illegal behavior lingers around the Tour because of the extreme nature of the effort expended by the riders.

Landis, a former teammate of Armstrong, offered a compelling story. Raised as a Mennonite in Pennsylvania, he used early success as a rider to break out of his culture, but he has never rejected it or his upbringing. After suffering a spill in training, he now suffers from a degenerative hip condition that leaves him in nearly constant pain, and will lead to hip replacement surgery before the end of the year. A mild favorite prior to the race, Landis took the lead about halfway through the Tour. He then suffered a shattering failure on the next-to-last day in the Alps, pulling what riders call a "bonk." He was unable to keep up the pace on stage 16, falling behind the leader by more than eight minutes. With only one more mountain stage, an individual time trial and the final day's ride to the finish line remaining, Landis was written off by experts and casual fans alike.

Before this week's scandale, Stage 17 was destined to go down as one of the greatest individual efforts in the history of the Tour de France. Landis attacked the field early, at the first of several major climbs, and proceeded to pull away from the everyone, mile after mile. Considering that it is estimated that a rider uses 30% more energy to ride on his own rather than with the aerodynamic assistance of other riders, the fact that he made up all but about 90 seconds of his deficit amounted to the cycling story of the decade. Landis then took the lead in the time trial the next day, a discipline in which he was known to be strong.

Now, of course, the allegation of doping. If it is true, even his mother has said he does not deserve to win. The charge, however, is curious. As the sports world awaits the testing of a second, "B" sample to confirm the results of the first, it is interesting to reflect on exactly what has been determined. Landis has not tested positive for any doping agent, such as human growth hormone or other steroid-type agent. He has also not, despite what the headlines may seem to say, tested positive for elevated testosterone, which would be the obvious (and time-honored) way to gain a sudden advantage. Instead, his tests have indicated a ratio of testosterone to epitestosterone is outside of the expected range. As this article explains, Landis' ratio was apparently out of spec not necessarily because of excess testosterone, but because of low readings of epitestosterone. Interestingly, epitestosterone levels can be depressed by alcohol and cortisone. Landis was well-known to have been receiving legal cortisone injections for his hip pain. Landis has also revealed that he imbibed some amount of alcohol the evening after his collapse in stage 16.

This explanation seems a bit dubious, but so does the fact that he did not test positive for anything until Stage 17. Would he be so foolish as to dope at that point, knowing he would be tested? Can his epic performance on that stage be explained by sheer determination and radically improved hydration (he went through 77 water bottles, most of which he simply dumped over his head)? Even if he is cleared, either by the B test or following an appeal, his thrilling victory is forever tainted.