When Honest Mistakes Become Headlines
My heart goes out to Penny Oleksiak as she grapples with a two-year ban from competing, training with her teammates, and receiving national team coaching. Most of us know by now that this penalty was given as a result of three instances where Penny either made a clerical error in filing her whereabouts, was not where she said she would be, or somehow presented inaccurate information.
As an athlete who was thrust into the public spotlight after unwittingly taking a cold medication, I can certainly relate to the heartache Penny must be going through. It’s an athlete’s nightmare to get a call from WADA that you have somehow violated a testing rule.
In 1995, I had already competed in three Olympic Games, won Olympic medals, and become a world champion. Failing a drug test didn’t cross my mind. Tests were done after competitions back in the day, and the most stressful part of them was trying to pee after sweating through an all-out effort.
In 1995, I competed at the Pan American Games and won two gold medals. I was already home from Argentina when the call came that I had tested positive for a banned substance. I remember holding the phone—back when we still had landlines—and shaking uncontrollably. I dropped to the floor in shock. How could this be happening? I didn’t take steroids, and I couldn’t have imagined that anyone on our team did. This was not the world I lived in, and when that call came, I was confused and terrified. It must be a mistake. What could I have possibly taken to give a positive result?
With my coach and team officials, I went through the events leading up to finals day for clues to what might have happened. We realized that the cold medication I had taken for my persistent cough going into the Games was on the banned substance list. Actually, the Benadryl my doctor had recommended was not the Benadryl I had picked up at the pharmacy. It was pretty much the same box, but the one I purchased had pseudoephedrine in it, which, I soon learned, was banned. It was my error.
Thirty years later, I can still feel the pain of this mistake. I could have double-checked the banned substance list. I could have brought the box with me when I asked the team doctor if Benadryl was okay. I could have not taken the stupid cold medication at all!
When the news broke that I had tested positive for a banned substance, I was on every front page in Canada. And although reporters soon learned that I had taken a cold medication, headlines like “Sneezy or Dopey?” grabbed readers’ attention.
On the one hand, I was furious that reporters were writing these headlines, and on the other hand, I felt deeply ashamed that I had made this mistake.
Fortunately, I was given a warning, not a ban. I lost my gold medal and, tragically, so did my teammates. Although I did not receive a ban—and not long after, cold medication was taken off the banned list—life did not go on as usual. My integrity had been questioned by this event, and that hurt to the core.
I can’t help but think this might be what Penny is feeling: anger at herself for making a series of mistakes, anger at a system that forces each athlete to carry the heavy responsibility of knowing their whereabouts three months in advance. I hope she doesn’t go to shame. That was the destructive emotion that took hold of me after my experience and, even to this day, I still feel emotional when I remember the hundreds of phone calls from reporters, the news headlines, the silent and not-so-silent accusations.
I don’t know how Penny is feeling, and like everyone else, I don’t know each tiny detail of how she made these mistakes. I do want her to know she is not alone. Many athletes have made mistakes.
Most Canadians, even retired athletes like us, had no idea of the level of scrutiny and accountability that athletes bear today. I have been taken aback by the Whereabouts Rule. This rule requires athletes to know their whereabouts three months in advance. I don’t know about you, but I don’t know where I will be at 10 a.m. three months from now. Imagine having to provide an address for anywhere you will be in the next three months. A boyfriend’s house, the address of a girls’ night that hasn’t yet been planned, the location of a speaking event that has not yet been confirmed. A person would have to be organized and fantastic with details. As someone with ADD, I miss appointments regularly—not because they haven’t been entered into my calendar, but because my brain doesn’t see them. Being on time, remembering appointments, and filling out forms create a disproportionate amount of stress for me. I make a lot of mistakes.
I feel bad for athletes today who carry this burden of organization and accountability. It’s hard enough doing the training, working on the side, and finding time to eat well. You also have to be an administrative rock star.
I do understand that random testing is important in continuing to catch the people who are cheating. The fact that Russia had a state-sponsored doping policy is horrifying to consider. If you followed that scandal, you’ll remember that the Russian testing facility at the Sochi Olympics was steps away from the KGB building. The cheating came down to a hole in the wall where positive samples were replaced by previously acquired clean samples. Russian athletes competed in the Olympics in the same cycle that they were revealed to be cheating.
WADA has a huge job working to keep sport clean. It’s almost impossible to keep up with the clandestine activities of athletes and countries who cheat. That doesn’t mean that sport governing bodies, athletes, and the World Anti-Doping Association should stop trying. Clean sport is worth fighting for. I believe in clean sport, but I can’t help thinking that the athletes affected by this Whereabouts Rule are often the young ones, the disorganized ones, or the ones with multiple responsibilities and constantly changing schedules.
I am so sorry that Penny Oleksiak has been a casualty in the pursuit of catching the cheaters. I don’t believe for a second she is one of them. I hope she is surrounded by people who love her and will support her in her journey to train, compete, and continue to find joy in the sport she so clearly loves.