Winning brings on drug testing, and it is not always a pleasant experience. As soon as I crossed the line at the Oceania Championships in 2017, an ASADA inspector rocked up and told me that because I won my age group, I was selected for a urine test. I told him, OK, but I have poo in my tri suit and it is running down my legs. That day I had to make a choice between a toilet stop and finishing second or release while running to press on for the win. He told me to rinse it quickly and that we had to go in pronto. I rinsed it with water bottles, or tried anyway, and then went with him to the ASADA tent. I was standing in my wet and stinky tri suit in 12 degrees. I was shaking uncontrollably and asked if I could please get changed at my club marquee. He said NO, and I had to stay. He offered to get me an emergency blanket and said this was all he could do for me. The tent smelled like rotten eggs because of me. I would not sit down, because I was embarrassed and did not want to sit in my faeces. He asked me if I had done a test like this before and I said, yes, 20 years ago. I knew the drill, grabbed the cup and went into the Portaloo to have a wee, closing the door behind me. He knocked and told me he had to come with me. In this tiny cubical? He went, yep, he needed to see me pee. I told him that things were a bit more flexible back in the day. He told me to go ahead impatiently. I managed to unzip my tri suit and get the hairy canary out, but then I felt his head moving onto my shoulder. I asked him if he had to be so close and he said, yes, because some athletes were using fake penis pumps. I told him that I was not sure I could pee in those conditions. I tried in vain. I asked him if I could go back to the tent to drink more water. An ASADA lady grabbed me to ask me questions and instructed me to sit down, but I declined. She said, pro athletes poo their pants all the time and that she was OK with it. What a job, I thought. She put a medical cloth down on the chair for me and asked what vitamins, pills and prescription medicines I was taking, while I was sculling my water in fear of another encounter with the toilet police.
My water bottle was empty and the questionnaire filled out, so I went away again to get the job done. I stood up and the cloth was covered in poo. He came with me to the Portaloo and I asked him if I could please pee outside to have more space, as his being so close wasn’t conducive to getting the job done. The next five minutes were long. I felt violated, humiliated and also sorry for him for having to do such a glamourous job. I beamed myself into the nicest place I could imagine so I could relax and finally, it happened. I produced a dark yellow liquid. ‘You are dehydrated,’ he said. I told him, yep, I lost a drink bottle on the bike, while I was putting the A and B samples into the bag before sealing it. I was now able to head to the club marquee and was welcomed by the squad asking why my lips were blue, my body was shacking and my legs were the colour of Nutella spread. I told them that the story will have to wait until I was wrapped in warm clothes and armed with a hot chocolate. I was frustrated by the process, but so pleased that the fight for doping was clearly on. As age groupers, our lives might not depend on the results as much as the pros’, but we work just as hard. We sacrifice just as much, and we all want a fair outcome, where the true winner stands on the highest step.