A few months ago, NASCAR driver and cycling enthusiast Jamie McMurray rode the Assault on Mt. Mitchell, a mass participation cycling ride that covers 103 miles and includes over 11,000 feet of climbing.
Technically The Assault is not a race, but throw in hundreds of Type-A cyclists — you don’t enter events like that unless you’re fairly driven — and where you finish definitely matters, especially to you. Jamie completed the course in less than six hours, finishing 22nd out of 532 riders.
Does that make Jamie an athlete? On the bike, absolutely.
In a race car, no.
Then again, during the ride Jamie’s heart rate averaged 148 beats per minute for 5 hours and 54 minutes. (That’s just the average; his heart rate spiked at 168.)
Understandable, right? It’s a brutal ride, and since Jamie’s heart rate is relatively low even for fitness enthusiasts, averaging 148 bpm means he was grinding.
Now compare that to his heart rate data collected at the Loudon, N.H. race in mid-July. For 3.5 hours his heart rate averaged 144 bpm and spiked at 171 bpm, even higher than on the bike.
And during those 3.5 hours the temperature inside the car averaged 108 degrees, with a high of 115 degrees. (Why it it so hot inside the car? Engineers do everything they can to keep outside air outside; any air that flows inside negatively affects aerodynamic performance.)
Plenty of studies show that heat and increased body temperature negatively impact performance. So does dehydration: Even though Jamie will go through the equivalent of at least two to three 64 oz. bottles of water during a race, drivers still sometimes require IV fluids immediately after a race. Jimmie Johnson needed three bags after the spring Texas race. (Speaking of Jimmie, I did his workout for a week and I have one word for you: Pain.)
But wait, there’s even more: The vertical and lateral G-force loads for a NASCAR driver average between three and five Gs in banked turns. G-forces make your body feel significantly heavier, allows less blood flow to your brain, and impairs vision. (Imagine riding a roller coaster for 3 to 4 hours while constantly performing movements that require exceptional dexterity and coordination.)
Does that make Jamie an athlete?
We can argue all day about the definition of “athlete,” so here’s one way to look at it. Take target shooting: Is a woman who lays prone and shoots at targets an athlete? There’s physical skill involved, but plenty of people might argue that target shooting is not an “athletic” skill.
Now take that same woman and have her compete in the biathlon, a winter sport that involves cross-country skiing and target shooting. In the 15 kilometer (9.3 mi) individual race, competitors ski, stop and and shoot at targets, ski some more, stop to shoot at more targets, ski, shoot, ski, shoot, and then ski to the finish line. Imagine you have to push yourself up and down hills at the limit of your strength and cardiovascular capabilities… and then you have to stop and control your heart rate, breathing, and tired, shaking muscles so you can shoot accurately.
Does that make her an athlete?
Absolutely.
The same analogy applies to when you and I drive a car. We move our hands and feet, and some degree of eye-hand coordination, spatial awareness, etc. is required, but is a trip to the grocery store “athletic? Probably not.
Now throw in extreme heat; withstanding 3 to 5 Gs multiple times a minute; the physical — not to mention mental — strain involved in controlling a car at the limits of its performance… all while 39 other people are doing the same thing, often within inches of you… and do all that for three to four hours.
Does that make Jamie an athlete? Does that make every other driver (except maybe Brad K) who competes at the top levels of their respective series an athlete?
Absolutely.
The strength, stamina, and conditioning, combined with the exceptional physical and cognitive skills needed to consistently take a race car to the extreme edge of performance and control — that’s what makes a race car driver an athlete.
That’s why performance management — fitness, diet, conditioning, mental preparation, etc. — is such an important part of their sport.
And now that we’ve settled that, adapt the same perspective where your employees are concerned. Improving the way you manage the performance of your employees — work hours, vacation time, fitness and health programs, etc — should be such an important part of your company.
Your employees may not be athletes, but you should certainly treat them that way.
The opinions expressed here by Inc.com columnists are their own, not those of Inc.com.