Triathlete Magazine - December 2006

Show me the money

The debate over entry fees is about as close to being settled as the continued furor over drafting, with athletes typically staking out positions that allow for little wiggle room. This month, an age-group triathlete and race director follow the money.

It’s all about value

By Bill Dermody

As a short-time triathlete and long-time marketer, I understand value. I’ll also admit most purchases are emotional, not logical. Lucky for you Mr. RD.

There are some sharks out there. You know who you are. You increase margins the old-fashioned way, by sticking it to the consumer. You do it two ways: Jack up the price or dumb down the quality of the product. We all do it in business. It’s how we make money. But at what point do you go from maximizing profits to abrogating your responsibility to your customers?

I gotta tell you, a lot of us multiply the entry fees by the number of competitors and wonder where the money goes.

So let’s talk minimums. Things I expect at any race at any price: safety and fun. If you fall short in either, you have failed, no matter how cheap your entry fee.

Recently at a race not far from Chicago, the course was so poorly marked with so many riders off-course that two sets of results were posted: the Olympic distance and “non-standard Olympic distance.” I can’t believe the guy had the balls to post both. Nothing like documenting your own ineptitude. Above his obvious professional embarrassment flies the red flag of danger. If so many bikes were in places they shouldn’t have been, you can bet there were cars in potentially dangerous spots too.

Safety is a tough one. It takes a lot of people, a lot of organization and a lot of money. But I can’t figure out why so many races have no transition security whatsoever. For those who find it hard, here’s the plan: 1) Number the bikes; 2) Number the athletes; 3) Bikes leave only at the “bike out” during and after the race; 4) Put your smartest guy at “bike out” to compare numbers on bikes to numbers on athletes. Get it?

After these minimums, we can discuss the sliding scale that is value. Is a fabulous location worth a premium? Sure. Does a prize purse that draws the big shots satisfy my emotional need to race alongside (OK, behind) my heroes? Sure it does. But if you’re getting $100-plus a pop, I expect you to graduate from spray paint on the road to proper signage.

Also, I expect to see 1. 5 porta-potties for every $10 I spend. So if it’s 80 bucks, I want to see 12 crappers, and put one right at the “run out” would ya?

The more you charge, the more accurate I expect your distance measurements to be. Lets see . . . 500 participants . . . 150 bucks apiece . . . yep, you got enough for a new GPS.

But let’s not dismiss the emotional-needs thing. I just forked over big bucks for my first Ironman race next year. I don’t want to be an “extreme-distance triathlete,” so I paid extra. When I cross the line and Mike Reilly proclaims, “You are an Ironman!” will it be worth the $470? Yep. You bet it will—all that and then some. But I’m still gonna be counting crappers.

Bill Dermody is a marketing manager in Geneseo, Ill. He has been competing in triathlon for two years and will compete in his first Ironman in Coeur d'Alene next June.

Bellyaching is a zero-sum game

By Normon Thibault

Irace (a lot). I also put on races. I volunteer at a number of triathlons a year, and, through my business, I sponsor 30 to 40 events a year. Yesterday I did a race called the Rowbotham Lake Ramble, a 70-kilometer mountain-bike race with a $40 entry fee, four fully stocked aid stations plus a BBQ and beer waiting at the finish. For most people doing the race, $40 was less than the cost of one tire, and yet I still heard several complaints because the entry fee had gone up over the last five years. After directing races for 13 years I have learned that one thing is certain: People complain—and some people complain a lot.

When you pay for any good or service, whether a newspaper, a new car or a triathlon, you want to get your money’s worth. But most complainers lack even a basic understanding of the costs associated with producing a product or putting on a triathlon.

Typical complainer math goes as follows: 500 athletes at $150 apiece, minus a $10 T-shirt, equals $70,000 profit. Wow, what a great way to rip off all the triathletes and earn some easy cash.

Here is a little info on some of the items in our annual race budget: entry form and Web site, office expenses, promotional materials, policing costs and event-permit fees, event-sanction-ing fees, race apparel and medals, charity donations, prize money, food, people power and equipment rental. A little more than signage and crappers, isn’t it?

If being a race director is so easy and profitable, then where have some of the sport’s great races gone over the past two decades? Where is the new car in my driveway (I drive a 1984 Honda Passport 70 scooter)? Why do I still have a mortgage (being paid by my other full-time job)? And I just love it when people whine that the price for our event has gone up over the last 12 years. Wow! Big news . . . something has gone up in price. How is this different from most other consumables, from houses to energy to labor costs?

In my estimation, I have done somewhere between 400 and 500 races since 1988. Out of those, there are a few that I will probably never return to until a number of things are fixed. Once I stopped during a race because I was so disappointed in the race organization, and I did not return for years until they sorted things out. Still, whenever I am unhappy about an event I try to help them by writing a detailed note explaining my experience and credentials and then outlining the positive (always first) and the negative things about the race.

Being a race director is hard, stressful but deeply satisfying and rewarding work. For me, it has basically been a second full-time job for the past 12 years. There is never a moment in my day where I am just sitting around with nothing else that could be done.

Bottom line: if you don’t like an event or you think you are being ripped off, then be constructive and do something about it. Clueless whining about it at poolside to your buddies is not going to help our sport, and it won’t help races survive. Then, without races, what would you complain about? Oh, I am sure you would find something.