Australasian Science 11-5

(Nora) #1

42 | JUNE 2016


THE FIT Tim Olds

I published my irst scientiic paper, a mathematical model of
cycling performance, in 1994. Using some mighty complex
equations, I predicted with conidence that no cyclist would
ever cover more than 55 km in an hour. Two days after the
paper was published, the Swiss rider Tony Rominger broke the
hour record. He covered 55.3 km.
Thinking that exercise science may not be my calling, I
turned to historical trends in overweight and obesity in children.
Based on an analysis of historical data on hundreds of thou-
sands of children, I predicted that we were heading for an expo-
nential rise in overweight and obesity in children. That was in
1996, the exact year in which childhood obesity plateaued. It
hasn’t risen since.
I should have twigged to this. “Those who have knowledge,
don't predict. Those who predict, don't have knowledge” (Lao
Tzu). But since the Olympics are approaching, I’m going to
dip my toe again into the treacherous waters of prediction, and
relect on why sporting records are constantly being broken.
There are lots of good technological reasons. Running tracks
are designed to better return the elastic energy stored when the
foot strikes the ground, and running shoes better return the
energy that was previously wasted when the shoes were deformed
as they hit the ground.
Faster swimming pools have just the right depth and shape,
side walls and extra unused lanes to eliminate relected currents,
as well as energy-absorbing lane dividers and gutters.
Velodromes have smoother surfaces, optimal banking and
protection from headwinds, while cyclists wear super-stream-
lined body suits and helmets and ride ultra-light, ultra-rigid
bikes.
Powerlifters use special reinforcing “bench shirts” that can
add 150 kg to their bench presses.
Training has also improved. Weight training was rarely used
before the mid-1960s by sprinters, who believed that muscu-
larity would slow them down. If you look at photographs of
sprinters from the 1960 Rome Olympics in Tanner’s The
Physique of the Olympic Athlete, you’ll ind physiques that today
would be sneered at in any suburban gym.
Athletes are also taking performance-enhancing supple-
ments, both legal and illegal. The world bench press record,
for example, has increased from 165 kg in 1916 to 500 kg in


  1. I’m sure you wouldn’t call me cynical if I thought that
    hasn’t all come about naturally.
    But one factor that contributes as much as anything to world
    record is hardly ever mentioned: there are just more people in
    the world, and therefore more super-athletes. To understand


the effect that the size of the population has on sporting records,
consider the case of Miguel “Big Mig” Indurain. One of the
greatest cyclists of all time, ive times winner of the Tour de
France and holder of the world hour record, Indurain had a
maximal aerobic power of 88 mL O 2 per kilogram of body-
weight per minute. The average for young men is about 51,
with a standard deviation of 7. This means that the chances of
a randomly chosen young man having an aerobic power as high
or higher than Big Mig’s would be about 1 in ten million.
About 12% of the world’s current population of 7.1 billion
is in the 20–35 age range. Some of those young men would not
be available for various reasons — they may live in inaccessible
areas, or already be involved in other sports, or be making a
very nice living doing other things. Let’s say 50% of them are
available to train as Tour de France cyclists. This would mean
there would be just 47 people in the whole world who could be
cyclists of the calibre of Big Mig.
Now let’s wind the clock back 50 years, to 1966. The world’s
population was 3.4 billion. Because we didn’t have the same
communications networks, because the world was less glob-
alised, because the inancial rewards from sport were not as
great, let’s assume that only 25% of potential super-athletes
would be available for training. This would mean that there
would only be 11 people in the world with an aerobic power
comparable to Indurain’s who would be potential Tour cyclists.
So in 2016 we have 47 men with the requisite aerobic power,
while in 1966 we had 11. That gives us an extra 36 men who
might have superior psychological toughness, or tactical ability,
or may be less prone to injury, and will therefore be better
cyclists.
To look at it another way, of the top 47 athletes in the
world – that’s the number available in 2016 — what would
the aerobic power be in 1966? The answer is 85.9 mL O 2 per
kilogram per minute compared with 88 for Indurain. That’s
2.4% less, which translates to an hour record that’s about 1 km
less, other things being equal.
I’m certainly not going to make a prediction about the hour
record — don’t say I haven’t learnt my lesson — but I will go
out on a limb and say we will not see a new 100 metre men’s
world record in Rio. Usain Bolt’s time of 9.58 seconds set in
2009 should, if a simple linear extrapolation is to be believed,
stand until 2028.
If I’m wrong, I’ll just give up this numbers business and take
up gender studies instead.

Why Are Sporting Records Always Being Broken?
Better technology, training methods and financial rewards only partly explain why athletes
continue to get faster and stronger.

Professor Tim Olds leads the Health and Use of Time Group at the Sansom Institute for
Health Research, University of South Australia.
Free download pdf