Anothah Boston Cheat

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Ari Ofsevit is a guy from Boston fueled by an intense, nerdy love for sports. The day after running this year’s Boston Marathon, his face was all over the cover of the Boston Globe and on all of the network news channels, but on the internet, people were accusing him of cheating. This is Ari’s story.

The Boston Marathon has a long, well-documented history of cheaters.

Of course, there was that most famous of marathon cheaters, Rosie Ruiz, who hitched a ride on Boston subway 10 miles into the race. But cheaters abound: there’s this armchair investigator who claims to have found at least 47 people who cheated back in 2015 by taking someone else’s bib, or by taking short-cuts in their qualifying marathon. There’s also the thriving online marketplace, where people say they’d be willing to spend as much as $5,000 dollars to get their hands on someone else’s starting number.

And this year, once again, a high profile Boston marathon finish is being called into question.

The racer in question is Ari Ofsevit. And he’s a friend of mine.

After the race, I was very surprised to see Ari was all over the internet.

I was then doubly shocked to learn that beneath every story written about Ari and in a forum of a website called Let’s Run internet  commenters were calling for him to be disqualified.

When Runner’s World noticed the online muck that was swriling around Ari’s story whenever it was posted, they stirred the pot, posting a second article about the reaction to the first article, inviting readers to “engage” on the question.

“So, there are people who say you cheated,” I said to Ari, when I interviewed him.

Ari responded with an exasperated snort.

“With cheating you have to have intent,” he said, “People were saying things like, he shouldn’t have accepted the aid from those guys. Well you know, I didn’t have the opportunity to say that because my brain was not functioning.”

Today's episode of Outside/In (which I encourage you to listen to, instead of reading… I promise, it’s better) is the story of my friend Ari, his fifteen minutes of fame, and the bigger question: what’s a race like the Boston Marathon for? 

What Happened?

If you want to hear this story straight from the horse’s mouth, with an impressive dose of profanity mixed in, you can read Ari’s account of why he thinks he collapsed just before the finish line of the race. What’s below is my abridged account.

His preparation for the marathon the day before was pretty reasonable - despite making a transcontinental flight the morning before the race. Ari hydrated, he slept in his own bed, and he woke up before his alarm.

And that day, Marathon Monday, was gorgeous weather, 65 degrees and sunny. (Though Ari, who hates running when it’s hot, calls it “sneaky warm”.)

The first 17 miles Ari felt great and was on track to beat 3 hours. He says he was drinking every water stop. But as the race wears on he started to slow down, though he said it was nothing unusual.

“Most people are going to feel lousy on those hills,” he said.

He’s slowing down: from 6 and half minute mile pace, to 7 minute mile pace… to mile 26 when he’s up to nearly an 8 minute mile.

But he turned the corner onto Boylston street, and then end was in sight.

“I remember thinking, “Alright legs, go,” Ari said. That thought was the last thing he remembers before waking up in the intensive care unit four hours later.

Did he finish?

Ari got to within 200 feet of the finishing line before collapsing with a body temperature of 108.8 degrees. At this temperature, doctors told him he had a 30-minute clock ticking toward organ failure and brain injury.

ari did pretty well... right up until the very end of the race

ari did pretty well... right up until the very end of the race

Two runners helped him across the finish line. And first responders dumped him into a tub of ice. This actually led to an over-correction, and when they sent him off to the hospital he was actually hypothermic: his body temperature had dropped to 84 degrees.

Ari didn’t break the 3-hour mark, but he did get a time: a  very respectable 3  hours and 3 minutes. You can find his name, and his time on the results. He finished in 1848th place - and like all finishers, he got a medal.

Once his story started to hit the media, first on the cover of the Boston Globe, and then later on the network TV channels, certain parts of the running community started grousing.

“To me, it would have been considered, he should have been a DNF,” Jay Curry told me. DNF is runner-speak for “Did Not Finish”.

Curry is an an OR nurse, a cyclist and a triathlete. He’s never done the Boston Marathon, but he has done ironman triathlons: that’s where you have to run a marathon after swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112. I found him through a Facebook comment he left underneath one of the articles about Ari.

“It kind of takes away from the sport, if anybody can just pick him up and carry him across the line  or I could jump on a bus and say, Jeez, I’m kinda tired right now, I’ve got two miles to go I’ll just call a taxi and take a taxi to the finish line and be considered a finisher.”

Jay says he has no ill-will toward Ari, and doesn’t think he deliberately cheated. But he’s steadfast. Ari did not finish. And Jay’s not alone. For every 10 people who celebrate his finish as a story about good sportsmanship and community - there are one or two that say, nice story, but he should be disqualified.

Albert Shank a Spanish teacher and marathoner from Arizona is another.

“You’re toeing the line running the same exact course at the same time as these elite runners from Kenya, and Ethiopia, and the United States and all over the world, and I think you should be subjected to the same rules as they are,” Shank told me in a phone interview.

When it comes to this question of whether he deserves to be considered a finisher, there’s a legitimate point being made. If Ari had been in first place, he definitely would have been disqualified. This actually happened in the Olympic marathon in 1908. Dorando Pietri, an Italian, had to be helped to his feet by the course umpires when he collapsed five times in the last 400 meters. The second place finisher -- an American -- protested, and Pietri lost his gold medal.

Ari has done a lot of races... a lot of races.

Ari has done a lot of races... a lot of races.

What's a race for, anyway?

But there’s a big difference between an Olympic athlete , and Ari Ofsevit. Hell, there’s a big difference between the front of the Boston Marathon and Ari Ofsevit.

“I understand that there are folks out there in the world that, a rule is a rule is a rule, and I get it… god bless ‘em for feeling that way,” said Dave McGillivray, the race director of the Boston Marathon, one of the people who very well could have disqualified Ari.

The rules are that runners accepting aid from others “may” be disqualified, not that they “shall” be disqualified. Typically, the routine is that another competitor submits a complaint, which the race jury considers. In Ari’s case, there was no complaint… at least no official, not-in-an-internet-comment-section complaint.

“It was a gallant effort, and I feel he earned the medal. Let’s move on,” said McGillivray.

In reality, there are two races going on in Boston, with two different sets of rules. One of those races -- the elite field -- is really only about who is fastest. The other, is mostly just a community building event. One that would be totally ruined if you militantly disqualified thousands of people who did things like take water from someone other than an officially sanctioned water-stop.

Some of the complaints circle around the prestigiousness of the Boston Marathon. It’s really a tough to race qualify for, and so many people register that in 2016 more than 4,500 people who made the official qualifying time still got turned away.

Because he finished, Ari will likely qualify for next year’s marathon and he could be taking a spot from a runner who finished the race on his own two feet.

Take it up with Meb

So who gets the final word? I’m going to give it to Meb.

Meb Keflezighi -- olympic silver medalist, winner of the 2014 Boston Marathon, and general goodwill ambassador for the sport of long-distance running --  actually tweeted a photo of the guys carrying Ari across the finish. That tweet was above, but here it is again.

You’ll notice, Meb didn’t write #ObviousDQ.

 

 

 

Tiny Terror

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A mini episode about one of the world's cutest predators. 

The Shrike

Henry David Thoreau

Hark—hark—from out the thickest fog
Warbles with might and main
The fearless shrike, as all agog
To find in fog his gain.

His steady sail he never furls
At any time o' year,
And perched now on winter's curls,
He whistles in his ear.

Gridlocked

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Something very different is going on up in Boothbay, Maine. It was an experiment which – if it works – could represent a fundamental shift in the way we think about using electricity.

Listen to the full show

I finally went to visit the rocky peninsula the Maine coast in August of 2015. I had been following what was going on there intermittently by reading the dispatches from the Portland Press herald’s excellent energy reporter (who has an equally excellent byline) Tux Turkel, and occasionally wading into the arcana of the filings at the Maine Public Utilities Commission. But after so much reading, I wanted to hear about it first-hand.

If you want to hear the details of the Boothbay project and explanation for why it matters and how it works, you should scroll back up and listen to this week’s podcast. But here’s the tantalizing question that drew me up to Maine: what if everything you thought you knew about energy was exactly backwards?

What if the way that we currently do electricity is actually the most expensive option, and all of that fancy “clean-tech” and “green-tech” actually the cheapest option?

Certainly, if all you’ve ever done is looked at a chart of the cost per megawatt hour of a given source of energy, this is a surprise.

This counter-intuitive possibility is not news to folks who have been paying attention. The Rocky Mountain Institute has been churning out reports saying so for years. For instance, a recent one concludes that technology available today “can unlock $13 billion per year of avoided grid investment and 10 to 40% savings on customer bills.” Another predicts that within 10 or 15 years it will be cheaper to build a new house with solar panels and a battery than to connect that house to the electric grid.

But the challenges of rolling out technologies like these are pretty profound. In part of our interview that didn’t make it into the podcast, Richard Silkman, whose company was responsible for the Boothbay experiment, explained to me that he initially had hoped to create a business that would compete with the utilities whenever an upgrade to the grid was deemed necessary. Here's how it would work, the utilities could propose a new power line and wherever the technology was the right fit,his company would propose a competing suite of renewable energy, energy storage, and other technologies that could shift demand away from hours of peak stress on the grid.

“But as we got more involved in the process and began to learn more about how the system would treat us, we realized that was not going to be an option,” he said.

The essential struggle is that the utility industry is not governed by the same market forces that made massive technological change in areas like computers and other gadgets possible. Utilities have operated for years as regulated monopolies. Only in a few states has something that vaguely resembles a free-market for electricity emerged. In order to make money selling electricity or building power lines, your company must work through a complicated web of regulators, electric rate designs, and separate regional markets for energy, generation capacity, voltage regulation… and so on.

Indeed, even as we were putting the final touches on the podcast, a new chapter in the saga had begun. In a filing, the local utility argued that electric demand in Boothbay has been growing more slowly than originally forecast and therefore the pilot project was unnecessary and should be discontinued. It also says that of 13 times they called on the batteries or backup generator, only 6 times did they feed energy back into the grid without any problems.

Silkman’s company (in a surprisingly colorful rebuttal, as regulatory filings go) contends the utility “got it wrong,” and that it was in fact the presence of the project which has resulted in declining electricity demand. It also claims that the utility has withheld crucial data it needs to make the pilot work most efficiently, and the only data that has been provided was in a “in an apparently hostile attempt… to discredit the usefulness and value” of the pilot project.

I asked Steve Hinchman, one of Silkman's collaborators, about his company’s relationship with the utility when I interviewed him. “This project is challenging them,” he replied, saying that the folks on the technical side of the business have been helpful and interested in the project but “the people that are more responsible for the financial long term planning would prefer not to have competition, to be honest.”

In short, if the transition renewable energy and the smart grid is going happen, it’s going to require a whole-sale change in the business model of electricity, and that could be an ugly fight between the companies that deliver us electricity now, and those that may do so in the future.

This is happening in some places, though different states are following different tracks. In New York, the emerging plan is largely market-based, meanwhile in Vermont regulators have taken the lead. Whichever path is followed, the result could be similar: as Gordon Van Welie, CEO of ISO New England, once told me in an interview “theoretically perfect regulations and perfect markets would yield the same result.”

Will that result be something like the Boothbay pilot, or something else entirely? We’ll just have to wait and see.

 

Photos of the 2003 Blackout and Boothbay

Parenting at 24,000 Feet

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For alpinist Ben Clark, scaling the world’s toughest mountains was a source of pride and peace; for his parents it was a source of constant worry. After they learned to live with their son’s adventurous streak, Ben decided to quit the mountaineer life altogether. Why? The answer may surprise you. 


Ben Clark directed the documentary, The Alaskan Way.

"The Alaskan Way" is a documentary film chronicling a season spent in a community of heli-skiers in Haines, Ak. that asks: "Is living the dream worth risking it all? Together the heli skiers explore the commitments, sacrifices and rewards of living a life with deep passion for deep powder. During the filming of The Alaskan Way a great tragedy occurred. Heli ski guide and avalanche forecaster Rob Liberman and client Nick DoDov perished in an avalanche on 3/13/12. I will never forget that day as it set my own life on a course to produce this film with suddenly incomprehensible obligations. How the story could be told and how could the story not be told were constant daily questions as perspectives mounted, some with vehemently opposing views. As a director I had only a simple solution-tell the truth with the footage I have and put it out there. This nearly 60 minute documentary film about Heli Skiing may not entertain you and I apologize personally to anyone who is bored reviewing the material, it is not ski porn. This film informs viewers about the circumstances discovered by a team of professional heli ski guides operating in a consequential environment. Despite thier best efforts to ensure safety in the mountains they met a situation where all efforts still resulted in the loss of two lives and one lesson learned: The best can still have a bad day. Please consider supporting the availability of this film with a donation of $5 or more to the tip jar. 10% of profits will be donated to Avalanche Education initiatives chosen by The Alaskan Way TV LLC. Any donation helps and I hope you will remember Rob Liberman, Nick Dodov and the valliant efforts of thier colleagues and friends. Please introduce your friends, families and fellow powder skiers to the lifestyle that for a brief moment in time was captured here and asks us all to weigh the decisions we make when committing to the pursuit of deep passion for deep powder. Ben Clark Director, The Alaskan Way

Follow Ben Clark on Instagram @bclarkmtn

You can also find out more about his film projects at his website: bclarkmtn.com

The Young Man of the Mountain

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An Everest Ethics Question

Tyler Armstrong is 12 years old. He likes to play laser tag.  He’s learning to play guitar. And this spring he's heading to China, where he will attempt to summit the world's highest mountain. In this episode, an ethical debate: how young is too young to climb Mount Everest?

Tyler Armstrong talks to a local news station last year about his Everest climb.

Explore Everest from the comfort of your living room, with this interactive guide.

Champagne on the Rocks

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We reported this story back in 2015. There have been a couple of changes which we mention in the version you see below: Episode 39: Champagne on the Rocks. Both versions of this episode are included in this post for the sake of keeping our archival ducks in a row. Enjoy!

In the summer of 2015, Scott Jurek set a new record for running the 2,181 miles of the Appalachian Trail. But on his triumphant day atop the last mountain in Northern Maine, his 21st century campaign for the trail's record ran afoul of a park founded on ideas about wilderness from a decidedly earlier time.

Scott Jurek Celebrating at the Top: 

A photo posted by Scott Jurek (@scottjurek) on

A photo posted by Scott Jurek (@scottjurek) on

A photo posted by Scott Jurek (@scottjurek) on

A photo posted by Scott Jurek (@scottjurek) on

Ginkgo Stink

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In this episode:

Ginkgo Biloba is a beautiful tree with an incredible history that dates back millions of years – it’s also a popular street tree among urban foresters. So why are some cities clamoring to have all their ginkgoes cut down, while others are planting them in the thousands? The answer has to do with your dirty gym socks, 19th century London smog, and maybe, the curious appetites of long-dead dinosaurs.

Editor’s Note: This episode, as it was originally published, contained insensitive and offensive language and is not currently available. For more information, listen to the updated episode here.

Photos

Pier Pressure

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...or I'll Give You My Dock When You Pry it From My Cold, Dead Hands

In 1998, Forest Quimby spent thousands of dollars building one of the most beautiful, most elaborate docks on Franklin Pierce Lake in New Hampshire. There was just one problem – it was illegal.

In this story, we hear about Quimby’s seventeen-year battle with the NH Department of Environmental Services, and find out why small-scale environmental regulations are so hard to enforce.

Listen to the episode:

Before and after shots of the dock.

The Moose Whisperer

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...or, why moose hunting is like watching a soap opera.

In 2015 about 2,700 of the 50,000 people who applied will receive a moose permit in Maine and if you’re one of the lucky ones who has waited 20 years for this moment, you’re going to want an expert on your team. You’re going to want a moose whisperer.  

Listen to the episode:

Photo Gallery