I competed at the Olomouc Women's Grand Prix in Olomouc, Czech Republic last week, running the 800m in 3:22.33, the 1500m in 6:59.84, and the 5000m in 23:03.87.
I also received my international para athlete classification in Olomouc, which was my primary reason for going there. I'll start this exceedingly lengthy report with an explanation of that process.
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The word classification has two meanings in para athletics - it’s both an action and a status. The action of classification is the evaluation of an athlete by a panel of trained experts, to determine whether the athlete has an eligible impairment, and if so, what the nature of the impairment is, so that the athlete can be grouped with and compete against others with similar impairments. Classification as a status is the category that a para athlete is placed in. For example, an athlete with a T20 classification is intellectually impaired; an athlete with a T47 classification is missing part of their arm.
There is a distinction between a national classification and an international classification. As of the beginning of this summer, I had a national classification (obtained in Boston 2024 and renewed earlier this year at Boston). This meant that I could compete as a para athlete within the US and could set para athlete national records. An international classification would mean that I was considered a paraathlete globally, could set continental and world records, and could represent the US internationally (if named to a team).
International classification is much more rigorous than national classification. An international classification also overrides any national classification. If you were nationally classified as a para athlete, but the international classifiers don’t think you’re sufficiently impaired, then you are no longer a para athlete either internationally or in your own country.
International classification opportunities are limited to about a dozen worldwide each year, and each country has a limited number of slots available for its athletes at each classification opportunity. When choosing who gets a slot, USATF understandably prioritizes athletes with the potential to medal at the Paralympics or the World Para-Athletic Championships.
For my classification of women’s T36, currently the only medal events are the 100m and 200m. And I’m not a sprinter. I’m not globally competitive as a para athlete until at least 800m. Thus, even though I have recent distance performances that would have been continental or world records if I was internationally classified, I was not a priority for a classification slot.
However, USATF offered to keep me on a waiting list for international classification this year. Then, in May, they contacted me to explain that if I went to the Olomouc Women’s Grand Prix in the Czech Republic this summer, they might be able to get me a classification slot. No promises, of course. But if I could get there and be available for the three days of classification, it might happen. Additionally, since USATF wanted to send a full contingent of para-athletes to this meet (which was held to promote women in para athletics), they would cover my entry fee and housing.
You miss 100% of the shots that you don’t take, and I’d never been to Europe. I booked my flights and started packing.
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I’m not an experienced international traveler. My previous trips outside of the US had been to Canada or Bermuda, with the last of those more than a decade ago. So, traveling to a relatively small town in the Czech Republic for a track meet was ripping the band-aid off.
My itinerary was Dulles to Frankfurt (5 hour layover) to Prague, and then I’d be picked up by a bus provided by the Local Organizing Committee (LOC) for the ~300K/180 mile drive to Olomouc. I left DC on Saturday night, and the trip was mostly smooth, save for a moment of panic at IAD when I learned that you can’t board a flight to Germany unless your passport has been signed. Fortunately, several people near me in the boarding area had pens.
***
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| view from the bus |
Three hours is a long time on a bus, especially when you’ve already been traveling for 16+ hours. I took a few videos of rural Czech Republic and then tried to nap.
About 90 minutes into the trip, the bus stopped at the Czech equivalent of a Sheetz for an optional bathroom break. I was well hydrated so this seemed like a good idea. Plus, as I've always said, you haven't truly lived until you’ve shared a gas station bathroom in rural eastern Europe with 8 teenagers from Uzbekistan.
I was last in line for the bathroom when I had a horrific thought. I was one of three Americans on the bus, and the other two were napping. To the best of my knowledge, nobody had counted how many were on the bus. It was entirely plausible that the Uzbek team would return as a group to the bus and the bus would leave while I was finishing up.
I don’t speak Uzbek (or Czech, for that matter) and the Uzbek team didn’t speak English, so there was no way to ask them to ensure the bus waited for me. So, reluctantly, and with the knowledge that I was furthering all sorts of awful stereotypes about Americans, I jumped ahead in line, took care of business as fast as I could, and sped back to the bus.
***
I had arrived on Sunday, as international classification was scheduled for three days - Monday-Wednesday, with the meet starting on Thursday. I was on hold but did not know when or if I would get a slot. My instructions on Monday morning were to “train as usual” so I jogged 6 miles with a few strides. Then, at lunch, we got word that I could be seen by the classifiers at 4:45 pm Monday afternoon.
Para athlete classification in general is stressful. I think that part of this is that people who compete in para athletics are NOT focused on their impairments. We acknowledge our impairments, maybe joke about them, and move on. The focus is on doing what you can do the best you can, not “educating” the world on what you can’t do and why you can’t do it. It’s very different from non-para running culture, where it sometimes seems like everybody wants to discuss their own personal obstacles and how inspiring they are for overcoming them.
This makes classification emotionally difficult, because you have to shift mentally and discuss your impairments, and explain what you can’t do and why you can’t do it. It’s hard.
Then, of course, there’s the fact that classification will determine whether you can compete, and what division you will compete in. International classification bumps this stress up a notch, both because of the considerable time and financial investment in getting to a classification opportunity and because international classification overrides national classification.
As I noted before, a domestic para athlete career can end if an international classification panel decides that your national classification panel was wrong, and you’re not impaired enough. Of course, that severe a change is unlikely to happen, just because most countries would not give a slot to an athlete likely to be classified as not eligible. And there are also all sorts of appeal rights if that does happen. But it’s possible.
Both times that I’ve been nationally classified, it’s just been me and the classifiers. But for international classification, the director of the USATF Para program, Sherrice Fox, joined me. She could not and would not answer questions on my behalf, but she would object to any procedural error during classification.
When I got classified at Boston for the first time, I noted that it felt like a combination of a job interview and a doctor’s appointment. This had the added flavor of a deposition, except that I was the client.
***
My classification lasted a bit over 2 hours, as opposed to the hour required for national classification in Boston. It followed a similar path to Boston - an interview, then a medical examination, and then an NFL-combine-esque series of drills (jump as far forward as you can! Hop on one foot! Shuffle to the side!) However, each of these segments was longer and more involved than Boston.
The next step was new. I was given 30 minutes to warm up on the track as if I was racing (they would be watching intermittently) and then don my spikes, do some strides, and run a hard 400m (ideally at 800m race pace, if not faster) while they scrutinized my gait and took notes.
I did all that and then waited for a very long 15 minutes while the panel discussed. Then they called me back.
The verdict - I was provisionally a T36 (the same as my national classification), with the classification finalized after they observed me in competition this week (that observation during competition is always the final step in classification).
They had to discuss my case at length, mostly because the neurological para athlete classifications, though intended to cover athletes with cerebral palsy, Parkinsons, MS-related spasticity, and traumatic brain injuries, are written in a cerebral palsy specific way. They had never seen someone with Parkinsons go for an international track para athlete classification before. (There is at least one other person with PD who is an internationally classified para athlete, but he rows, and the international classification criteria is different for each sport). But after watching me, they thought that T36 was where I belonged.
[Note: for running, the ambulatory classifications for people with neurological impairments are T35, T36, T37, and T38. T38 means minimally impaired, T37 means that you are impaired on one side, T36 means involuntary movements and not full control (my difficulties turning, changing pace, and running downhill, as well as my wobbly inconsistent gait are all consistent with this classification). As for T35, I don’t fully understand that one except that I am not in it.]
***
The next two days were easy mileage and hanging out with the USA contingent (all of whom were awesome) while waiting for the meet to start. I haven’t really interacted with sprinters or field athletes before, so it was great to learn more about those sports, and also to broaden my knowledge of wheelchair racing (which really is a very cool sport and deserves much more attention than it gets). I also enjoyed shocking them by describing the traditional Capital Area Runners marathon workout of 25x400m on the track. I didn’t mention that my personal favorite marathon workout is 17 miles with 2x5 miles at marathon effort - I’ll save that for next time.
***
Finally, it was Wednesday, and the meet started, with my first race, the 800m, at 10:37 am.
This meet ran like clockwork, with events starting at exactly the scheduled time. There was a call room where athletes had to check in and enter during a scheduled window - 20-25 minutes before the race (so 10:12-10:17 am for my 800). Anyone who was not in the call room 20 minutes before the race was DQed from the race and the rest of the meet.
There were limitations on what could be brought into the call room - nothing except clothing, shoes, and spikes. Any type of communications tech (GPS watch, cell phone, etc) was cause for elimination. I also couldn’t bring any nutrition in and had to leave my asthma inhaler and Parkinson's medication outside.
Each athlete had been issued a credential, and we had to provide that when entering the call room as our identification. A race official collected the credentials, to be returned after the race.
I entered the call room at 10:12 (I really didn’t want to be DQed) and then waited for a long time. At about 10:32, the athletes in the 800m (myself, a visually impaired T12 from Tunisia, and an intellectually impaired T20 from the Czech Republic) were walked to the start.
I had no idea what I was doing, so I mirrored the others. Which meant that I grabbed my bag carrying my extra spikes and carried it onto the track. We were walked to our starting positions, each marked with a large plastic number thing and a small plastic basket just behind.
The other two placed their bags in the basket, so I did too. Then they started doing strides, so I did as well. When they stopped and walked over to the starting line, I followed. As we lined up, race officials removed the baskets. And then the video cameras approached.
***
I’ve watched enough Diamond League races to know what happens next. Each athlete is introduced in turn, while the camera focuses in on their face, and they wave or make a heart shape with their hands or point to something on their singlet.
Me, trying to be bubbly
I’ve always wondered what people are thinking when the video camera gets in their face before the start of a track race. Speaking for myself, I frantically tried to remember if there were any gestures that were acceptable in the US but insulting in Europe.
After we had been introduced, we took our marks and the gun went off. I am always dropped at the start of short track races (or any race) but this felt like a pedestrian versus a pair of race horses. The other two women zoomed away, while I did my best in what was essentially an 800m time trial. I did a good job with my form the first 400m but then lost my focus and tried a bit too hard in the second 400m, meaning that I slowed up while working harder.
As I crossed the finish, the other two were already walking away - they had each run in the 2:20s, while I had been in the 3:20s. Welcome to international para athletics.
We were directed into a mix zone tent to wait until the race results were finalized and our credentials returned to us. I noted the Czech woman being interviewed by local TV in one corner - she had won. I was not surprised that nobody wanted to speak to me.
***
After about 5 minutes, my credential was returned and I was free to go. An official confirmed that I had run 3:22. The existing “Americas” (meaning North and South American continents) record for the T36 800m was 3:26. So, pending ratification, I had set that record, since this was a World Para Athletics sanctioned meet and I had an international classification.
[It’s worth noting here that my American 800m record of 3:18 is faster than my Americas (North and South America continent) record of 3:22. This is because I only needed a national classification and a USATF meet to set the American Record. Sometimes a national record can be faster than the regional or world record because of the stricter requirements for regional and world records, and this is an example of that.]
I wasn’t sure if my regional record would require drug testing, and so I flagged down Simon - the USA team leader. Per his instruction, I stayed in the mix zone while he asked if anyone wanted to drug test me. The response was no (a regional record can be ratified without testing, as long as testers are present) and so I was free to go. I was honestly bummed that nobody wanted to test me - wasn’t I good enough? But, on the other hand, it meant I was done for the day and could relax.
***
Thursday was the second day of the meet, and I had two races on tap - the 5000m at 11:10 am (enter call room at 10:45-10:50 am) and the 1500m at 3:55 pm (call room at 3:30-3:35 pm).
Having two races in one day meant that I had to give special thought as to how to schedule my Rytary. I take the Rytary every 4 hours on an empty stomach, meaning at least 60 minutes after a meal or 30 minutes before. And I also couldn’t take it while I was in the call room or racing.
After some calculations, I mapped out the following schedule:
6:00 am - Rytary
6:30-7:00 am - breakfast
10:00 am - Rytary then warm up for 5000m
10:45- 11:30 am - call room and 5000m
12:00-1:00 pm - lunch
2:00 pm - Rytary
2:45 - warm up for 1500m
3:30-4:00 - call room and 1500m
***
I was the only person in the 5000m, which made for a comical walk to the starting line. The starter joked with me about the distance, and I explained that I was a marathoner, so this was short. Then I dumped my stuff in the basket, lined up, and started (no cameras this time).
Weatherwise, it was far cooler than previous days (75 F, with low humidity). Unfortunately, a strong wind (17-20 mph sustained) had picked up. The back stretch felt like running into a wall each time and the crosswinds on the turns threw my gait off. But I cranked down the laps as best I could, while the audience politely clapped each home stretch and the announcer said something in Czech (probably along the lines of "the crazy US woman only has 4 laps left!").
After 12+ laps, I came down the homestretch a final time, noting the clock cross over to 23 minutes as I finished. I had hoped to run faster, but I think the wind slowed me. In any event, I had finished. And since I now had my international classification and there was no world record on the books for the 5000m, I hoped I had just established that record. Somebody has to go first.
I was surprised when three (three!) video cameras surrounded me at the finish line. I wasn’t quite sure what to do (collapse dramatically?), so I waved. They were between me and the track exit, so I hesitated for a moment before realizing that they would move if I walked towards them.
I entered the mix zone and was immediately approached by a race official. I had been selected for drug testing (YAY). and needed to report to doping control. Until I was tested, she needed to stay with me as my chaperone. Simon (USA team leader) explained to me that I was allowed to cooldown or whatever first, as long as I was within sight of my chaperone. But…I had another race this afternoon, so I headed right over so that I could pee in a cup and be on my way.
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| Doping control, toilets, and other things |
I was naive in thinking I would be done so quickly. For one thing, I was not the only person who had been selected. When I arrived at doping control, there were at least 5 women ahead of me.
I waited my turn and then Simon and I were called into a room where the doping control officer (DCO) explained the process. It wasn’t just peeing in a cup. I also had to enter all of my medications and pretty much everything I had consumed in the past week (along with dates and times) on an iPad. I had been selected to provide both a urine sample and a blood sample and would need to be watched by a chaperone at all times until both were taken. There would also be a wait for the blood sample, as it couldn’t be taken until an hour after I completed my race.
When I was ready to pee (I had been chugging water to get things going), I selected my pee cup from a selection of identical cups in sealed packages and walked with her to the bathroom. She would be watching me as I peed.
Unfortunately, my first try wasn’t enough (I needed 90 ml and peed about 35). So that cup was saved and sealed while I returned to guzzling water.
As time passed, I grew concerned that I wouldn’t have enough time to get everything done before the 1500m. We mentioned this to the DCO, who was horrified and instantly apologetic. I was supposed to be pulled for testing after my last race of the day, and they had missed the fact that I was racing twice.
The problem was: I didn’t have enough time to get both blood and urine done between the two races. Heck, I had already missed lunch, since my medication schedule dictated lunch between 12-1 pm. So, I’d have to get the blood drawn after the 1500m. Which meant that I would have to be watched at all times until that blood draw, including while warming up for the 1500m on the winding bike path behind the track.
The initial proposal was to have my assigned chaperone (a young woman who didn’t run) stand in the park while I jogged back and forth. I didn’t like this idea. I get absent minded when I’ve got a race on tap, and I was worried that I would forget I was being watched and run around a corner, resulting in a doping evasion charge.
Fortunately, there was another chaperone who ran, and was significantly faster than me. So (after I completed peeing the full 90 ml) he ran my warm-up with me before handing me back off to my original chaperone, who went everywhere with me (including into the portajohn when I had to pee again and again after completing the urine sample).
***
I was mentally and physically tired when I entered the call room for the 1500m. It had been a long day and a long week, and I hadn’t gotten the rest and mental decompression time I needed after the 5000m. (I had also missed lunch.) It was also hard to be too positive when I knew that I was going to be lapped by the rest of the 1500m field - they were all T20 athletes (so intellectually impaired rather than physically impaired) who had seed times around 5 minutes.
But I was here and had had a great week and it was my final race, so there was no reason not to give it a shot. I grinned awkwardly at the video camera one final time and took my mark. 
Still not cool
Once again, I was dropped instantly. I watched the other five women pull ahead as a single pack while I lumbered behind. All I could do was my best, but I could tell my gait was stiff and I was tired. Fortunately, 3 and ¾ laps wasn’t that far, and I was also pleasantly surprised to only be lapped by one woman, though I still finished last in 6:59 - running a slower pace for 1500m than I had in the 5000m.
I walked off to the mix zone to meet up with my chaperone. And then was shocked when my credential was returned to me with a card instructing me to appear for the medal ceremony in 40 minutes. Apparently, though I had finished dead last in the 1500m by over a minute, I had also finished second.
To explain - each race was ultimately scored by a graded finish time that indexed your time by what was expected of your classification. Since I was a T36, even though I was much slower than all of the T20s, my time of 6:59 was graded faster (85.77) than the second placed T20 time of 5:13 (82.69). Wow. Cool.
The timing of the medal ceremony worked out well, since I had an hour to kill before I could get my blood drawn. I got my medal and my goodie bag, then headed back over to doping control for more paperwork and a blood sample, sadly saying farewell to my chaperone.
My chaperone and I
During that time, I also learned that my T36 classification was final with a review date of 2028 (meaning I have to redo it at my first international track meet in 2028).
Around 5:30 pm I was finally done for the day and for the week. I ate a huge dinner and then crawled into bed - the next 48 hours would be spent cheering for my teammates and then traveling home.
Epilogue (i.e., things that I want to mention that didn't fit into the flow of the above):
- I went to this meet not knowing what to expect and left with a great experience and many new friends that I hope I will see again and again. I haven't mentioned the performances of the other USA athletes, because those are not my stories to tell. But I can say that we had a great meet and a great time in Olomouc when not competing. I also had a roommate (other than Brian) for the first time in about 30 years and....best roommate ever. I may be completely spoiled now.
The USA team on July 4
- As it turned out, my 5000m performance, the first ever in international competition by a female T36, was not a world record. The rules are that the first performance at a distance sets a "record mark." Then, if there is another performance faster than that record mark, that performance establishes a new world record. So...I need to find another WPA sanctioned 5000m. The good news is that the "record mark" that I just set was the slower of the two 5000m track races that I've run this year (stupid wind). So, I should be able to run faster than the record mark of 23:03 - I just need to find a place to do it. (would anybody in the Mid Atlantic US be interested in hosting a WPA sanctioned track meet with drug testing?)
- Olomouc did a fantastic job with this meet - it was a wonderful experience in so many ways. If I have the chance to return next year, I definitely will.
- Our hotel stay included free all you can eat cafeteria style meals in the hotel dining room. And the food was amazing and labeled for all allergens. I barely missed Chipotle.
- The goodie bag that athletes received with their medals included a bunch of cool stuff. And some CBD lotion....Of course, since we're all subject to drug testing, and CBD oil might contain THC, and THC is a banned substance in athletics, none of us took it home.
CBD oil on right - One of the post meet highlights was a shopping trip (because we're Americans). In Czech there is a store called Decathlon that is essentially a combination of a Dick's Sporting Goods and an REI. A group made a pilgrimage to Decathlon to purchase all sorts of high quality stuff at remarkably low prices. I didn't need another pair of shorts and three more pairs of tights. But I got them anyway. I also took pictures of the KFC and the Popeyes there, just because.
- My biggest bit of culture shock in the Czech Republic was not the power outlets or the lack of a top sheet. It was the near impossibility of finding plain (non sparkling) water. There were no water fountains anywhere. Most coffee shops did not offer bottled water. The local supermarket was mostly stocked with sparkling water. And the hotel restaurant offered a wide selection of juices, coffee, and tea at each meal, but finding plain water took some investigation.
- Unfortunately, my trip back to the US was not as seamless as the trip to Olomouc. My original flight that connected through Munich was cancelled. I scrambled and rebooked several times before managing to get on a flight to Dulles, connecting through Frankfurt with a short layover time. A delayed flight to Frankfurt cut into that time even more, resulting in me being one of "those people" - doing a panicked shuffle jog with luggage in tow between gates. Fortunately, I made it to the gate in enough time to be assigned a seat (41K - a middle seat in basic economy). Delays on the ground and in the air transformed an 8 hour flight into an 11 hour one, and further delays at Dulles meant that it was another two hours before I got home. It was a rough end to a great week, but still better than the experience of several others from the US, who were delayed by a day+.
