For nine years, Canadian triathlete Jasper Blake has been selecting from a menu of technological aids in a bid to get to the top of his event—a leg-sapping, lung-wringing combination of swimming, cycling and running that only the fittest, and perhaps dorkiest, athletes can win. "Triathlon is a nerdy sport," says the intense, lean, 1.7-m Blake. "We have the weirdest group of people into the most gimmicky, gizmo things."
When training on his bicycle, Blake uses the SRM Powermeter, a data-crunching disc attached to the bike's crank arm. Invented by a German company, the device measures the power and rhythm of each pedal push, as well as the cyclist's heart rate. He's even got gizmos working for him as he sleeps. Blake has pitched a plastic "high-altitude tent" atop his queen-size bed at his home in Victoria. A compressor pumps in air containing 15% oxygen, equal to the rarefied air 3,000 meters above sea level, compared with 21% oxygen at sea level. As Blake snoozes, his body compensates for the lower level of oxygen it is getting by producing more red blood cells. Because red blood cells carry oxygen through the body, the theory is that generating more of them reduces fatigue. Blake concedes his oxygen cocoon "looks ridiculous" and gets "pretty hot," but he is convinced that spending uncomfortable nights at simulated altitude will help him become a better athlete. Such wizardry isn't cheap. High-altitude tents cost as much as $7,000; the SRM Powermeter costs around $2,900; customized training bikes start at about $4,000. "You don't absolutely have to use all this stuff, but you're kind of silly not to," says Blake. "If you don't, you're just putting yourself five meters behind the starting line before you start."
Like many Olympic hopefuls, Blake trains in a modern matrix of tech and technique, mind and body. Olympic coaches and athletes now exploit a wide range of mechanical, video and computer devices designed to coax peak performance out of human bodies. Complex cables propelled by pulleys drag runners faster than they thought they could sprint. A new machine from France lets speedsters run virtual-reality races against the best in the world. Innovative video software allows swimmers and divers to break down their performances frame by precious frame. Like Blake, many athletes have been "sleeping high [in altitude-simulation tents] and training low," and everybody has been trying to figure out how to cope with the Athenian heat.
Does any of this help? Sports scientists and some coaches concede that such breakthroughs may make only a small improvement in performance—but that can be a critical increment. "It's 5%, max," says Dr. Gordon Sleivert, director of sports science and medicine at the PacificSport Canadian Sport Center in Victoria. "But 1% might make the difference between a gold medal and eighth place."
It's that differential that made Montreal track coach Daniel St.-Hilaire order the Best Runner, a "speed-optimization system" designed by Pierre-Edouard Sainsily, a biomechanical engineer in Bordeaux. The $58,000 device consists of video cameras, sensors and other data-collecting gadgetry that are positioned on a track and wired to a workstation mounted trackside. St.-Hilaire uses it to record the speed, acceleration, starting power and strength of athletes such as Nicolas Macrozonaris, 23, Canada's top male sprinter, who has run a 10.03-sec. 100 m. Ranked No. 19 in the world in 2003, Macrozonaris will probably need to run under 10 sec. to make the 100-m Olympic final. But Sainsily believes his machine can help Macrozonaris get there. "If you train with the fastest runner, you run faster," he says. "It's the same with technology."
Best Runner will allow Macrozonaris to dissect each part of his race and compare it directly with the world's best by examining the device's computer-generated graphs and charts. Sprinter Hank Palmer, who trains with Macrozonaris, says, "It will help me improve by showing me exactly what speed I have to be at at what part. I'll be able to memorize the perfect way to run."
Palmer and Macrozonaris also use two sets of cables that offer interesting twists on the training regimen. They work out with resistance cables tethered to 10-kilogram metal plates that help them build strength. And they use "overspeed" cables, which drag them on a pulley system maneuvered by the coach; the idea is to reduce the brain's resistance to speed—think about running downhill. "It will help the athlete break his speed barrier," St.-Hilaire says. "As fast as he's humanly capable of running, we need to find a way to break that barrier." In other words, mind over body.
In the heat of performance, though, it can be difficult to give the mind sufficient distance to understand what the body may be doing incorrectly. That's where a new generation of video software technology can make a vital difference. When Tara Kirk, a swimmer at Stanford University and Olympic-medal hopeful, was competing in races in 2003, she thought she was keeping her body straight in the water as she swam. Then she had a chance to look at herself on a laptop screen. Using a software program called Dartswim, her coach superimposed a picture of Kirk's technique from 2002 on an image of her current form. The message was clearer than a chlorinated pool: despite some improvement, she still arched her body during the strokes, adding seconds to her time. "You can't go with what you feel," says her college coach, Richard Quick. "Tara felt like she was doing the stroke properly, but Dartswim pointed out the flaws. Once she saw them, she began to improve." That was in January. Two months later, at the U.S. National Collegiate Athletic Association championships, Kirk placed first in the 100-m breaststroke. And she set a world record.
Switzerland-based Dartfish is perhaps the world's most successful Olympic-tech company, with training software, including Dartswim, that's used by athletes in more than 20 countries, including Germany, South Korea and Thailand. In the U.S., some two dozen Olympic sports use Dartfish. The technology helped athletes worldwide win 45 medals in the 2002 Winter Games, according to Victor Bergonzoli, general manager of the company's U.S. unit. "Once we used to repeat and explain the same thing over and over again," says Yeom Dong Chul, coach of South Korea's weight-lifting team, which has been using Dartfish in the run-up to the Olympics. "Now there is no need for us to talk so much, since it's all viewable on the screen."
Using video analysis to find faults is sometimes only half the battle. Fixing problems is far harder, as Canadian butterfly specialist Mike Mintenko found in Sydney in 2000 after he missed an Olympic medal by a fingernail, finishing fifth in the 100-m final. After analyzing the race, his coach concluded that Mintenko blew it—literally—at the 75-m mark. The analysis showed that Mintenko's shallow breathing after the 50-m turn didn't allow him to maintain enough oxygen to keep his muscles from tiring. In February Mintenko tried out a device, made by Houston-based PowerLung, that looks like a glorified asthma inhaler. It forces the user to work harder to pull air in and push it out. After using the PowerLung for a week, Mintenko began to see an improvement in his oxygen capacity.
Nothing, though, has created a bigger splash in swimming circles than the slippery new bodysuits being prepared for the Athens Olympics, particularly the Fastskin suit unveiled in March. Designed by Speedo and Japan's Mizuno, the drag-reducing Fastskin makes it appear as if a swimmer has been dipped in a glossy, water-resistant paint. Olympians who plan to wear one include Japanese swimming sensation Kosuke Kitajima, who has set world records in the 100- and 200-m breaststroke. Speedo claims the $250 suit reduces drag by at least 4% compared with the original Fastskin design released in 2000. Not to be outdone, the company's main competitor, Tyr, has developed its own "world's fastest swimsuit." Tyr says its Aqua Shift attire reduces drag by at least 10% compared with normal suits.
But no matter how ingenious the gear or the gadget, technology has its limits. What makes an Olympian a winner depends mainly upon muscle strength, stamina, skill and desire. Still, with history being made by the millisecond in Athens, athletes can use all the technological help—and all the extra red blood cells—they can get.