Steroids to Heaven

Thoroughly Modified Miller: Matthew Miller (far right) and Roberto Gonzalez (center) took the gold and silver medals, respectively, for the “modified” segment of the young men’s heavyweight division at the 2006 Gay Games.

No one will be surprised to learn that one of the most popular events at the Gay Games is the physique competition, with its promise of nearly naked men showing off perfect pecs, bulging biceps, and eight-pack abs. But on stage, as in life, not every contestant exhibited huge or well-defined muscles. And that, you might suppose in a competition like this, is what separates winners from losers.

But you’d be wrong.

The physique contest at the 2006 games in Chicago had so many entrants that the competition was spread over two nights, with contestants divided into numerous categories by weight and age. The audience snapped photos and looked on admiringly as each group of men filed on stage for introductions, then left and returned one by one to perform choreographed posing routines. But when it finally came time to hand out the silver, gold, and bronze medals for each group, the master of ceremonies announced they were giving awards in two categories — “standard” and “modified.” That is, the top three in the “modified” group would receive gold, silver, and bronze medals, as did the top three in the “standard” group. This further subdivision of competitors effectively doubled the number of medals for each group of contestants, many of which were already quite small. In some cases, a group consisting of six competitors all walked away with medals.

What was going on? Why the extra divisions? The only explanation given during the first evening was that organizers had created these categories because the Gay Games are contests of “inclusion rather than exclusion.” Whatever that means. The master of ceremonies was only slightly clearer on the second night of physique contests. The standard category, he explained, was for those who underwent drug testing while the modified category was designed for those who couldn’t arrive in time for the drug testing or who chose not to be tested.

It isn’t hard to guess why the presenter danced around this delicate topic or why the organizers chose such curious terms as “standard” and “modified.” Use of anabolic steroids to increase muscle mass is an open secret in bodybuilding competitions, many of which don’t bother to test competitors at all. The practice is only mildly controversial despite the fact that many of drugs in question are controlled substances used without a doctor’s prescription — an illegal act.

And again, no one is surprised to find such physique-enhancing chemicals among a certain segment of the gay community who see abnormally large muscles as the epitome of sexual attractiveness.

But it is here, at the intersection of “Gay” and “Games,” where the steroidal connection between sports and homosexuals takes an interesting turn. Because doctors often prescribe steroids for wasting conditions like those caused by HIV (still prevalent in the gay population), many gay bodybuilding competitors are actually using these substances legally.

To address this fact, the Federation of Gay Games sought a middle path between strict drug testing as practiced by the Olympics (the model for the Gay Games) and turning a blind eye to potential drug abuse. Fortunately, the Gay Games Web site articulates this position with far greater detail and eloquence than the announcer at the physique competition:

“The Federation of Gay Games and Chicago Games, Inc.,” the site states, “condemn doping practices and the use of banned substances to enhance performance in sport. The use of such banned substances is contrary to fair play, is potentially harmful to the health of athletes, is an increased safety risk and is, in some cases, unlawful.” But, they add, the “FGG also understands that ... many [athletes] participate under special circumstances (asthma, cancer, diabetes, HIV, etc.). The FGG recognizes that there are medical conditions for which there is the prescribed use of some banned substances and acknowledges a broad range of legitimate medical reasons that would cause an athlete to be on substances banned and often stigmatized.”

It appears the FGG has struck a harmonious balance between competing views. And perhaps they have.

But of course few controversies are so simple. For example, many HIV-positive gay men use steroids legally not because they suffer from a wasting condition, but because they have convinced sympathetic doctors to let them use substances that will give them an edge in their quest for sexual attractiveness. One medal winning contestant at the Games told a reporter that even though he had a medical reason for being “modified,” he would use steroids even if he didn’t.

It’s exactly that kind of candor that was lacking in the public presentation of the Gay Games physique contest. Why, for example, say so little to the audience about the two-tiered system? Why the confusing category names? It it simply because “modified” sounds better than “freakishly druggy looking”?

And what of the road less traveled? What if the FGG had decided to follow the path taken by the Olympics and required testing for everyone? Sure, many legal users of these substances would have had to bow out. But our society frequently asks people to make sacrifices for people’s safety and to set a good example. For example, we encourage pregnant women not to drink or ask HIV+ people not to donate blood. Wouldn’t the positive message of fair play and natural bodybuilding outweigh the recognition lost to a segment of the community?

Or consider a different solution: No one, including the judges, knew (in theory) which competitors were tested and which weren’t until the presentation of the awards. In other words, participants who never used any banned substances were forced to compete against steroidal muscle monsters as if on a level playing field, even though it was anything but. Only after the scoring were the members of the two groups separated to determine winners and losers.

But what if, instead, the two nights of bodybuilding competitions were separated by this very factor: The first night could be for only drug-tested competitors with the second night representing those who got no test. Would that not be a more level playing field, with like competing against like?

Apparently the FGG didn’t think so. They seemed to believe that keeping drug-testing status confidential until the last minute was somehow more fair and inclusive.

Personally, I don’t see it. But I guess I should be grateful that organizers offered testing at all. And that, in the end, the FGG revealed to everyone the truth of who used drugs and who did not.