Wine, Bull's Blood, and Sheep Parts: The Wild History of Ancient Performance Enhancement
In 1988, Ben Johnson's positive drug test at the Seoul Olympics shocked the world and changed how we think about cheating in sports. But Johnson wasn't breaking new ground—he was following a tradition that stretches back over 2,000 years to the original Olympic Games, where ancient athletes were already experimenting with performance-enhancing substances that would make a modern sports scientist cringe.
The difference? Back then, nobody called it cheating.
The Original Sports Drink
Forget Gatorade—ancient Greek athletes had their own ideas about proper hydration. Many competitors swore by wine mixed with various herbs and spices, believing the alcohol would give them courage while the additives provided strength and endurance. Some athletes preferred their wine mixed with honey, others added exotic spices imported from distant lands.
But wine was just the beginning. Roman gladiators, who were essentially professional athletes in the world's most brutal sport, regularly consumed a drink made from plant ash mixed with water. Modern analysis suggests this concoction was loaded with calcium and other minerals—not a bad sports drink by today's standards, though the taste probably left something to be desired.
The most extreme example might be the ancient Greek practice of drinking bull's blood before competition. Athletes believed this would transfer the bull's strength and aggression to their own bodies. The practice was eventually banned—not because it was considered cheating, but because bull's blood is actually toxic to humans and was killing competitors.
Dietary Doping
If you think modern athletes are obsessive about their diets, you should have seen what was happening in ancient Rome. Athletes developed elaborate eating regimens that would make a modern nutritionist laugh—or cry.
Take Milo of Croton, the legendary wrestler who won six Olympic titles. His training diet reportedly included 20 pounds of meat, 20 pounds of bread, and 18 pints of wine per day. Whether these numbers are accurate or exaggerated by ancient sports writers, they show how seriously athletes took the connection between diet and performance.
Other ancient athletes had more exotic tastes. Some Greek competitors ate dried figs exclusively, believing the fruit contained special properties that enhanced speed and endurance. Roman athletes sometimes consumed sheep's testicles, convinced that eating the reproductive organs of powerful animals would boost their own virility and strength.
The strangest dietary practice might belong to ancient Egyptian athletes, who sometimes ate the hearts of lions, believing this would give them the courage and ferocity of the king of beasts. Given that lions were sacred animals in Egyptian culture, this practice was both expensive and religiously controversial—the ancient equivalent of a modern athlete risking everything for a competitive edge.
Herbal Experiments
Long before modern chemistry isolated specific compounds, ancient athletes were experimenting with plant-based performance enhancers. Greek athletes regularly used a variety of herbs and roots, many of which we now know contain naturally occurring stimulants or other active compounds.
Strychnine, which modern athletes know as a deadly poison, was actually used in small doses by some ancient competitors. In tiny amounts, strychnine can act as a stimulant—though the margin between "performance enhancement" and "death" was uncomfortably narrow.
Ancient athletes also used various mushroom preparations, some of which likely contained naturally occurring psychoactive compounds. Whether these actually improved performance or just made athletes think they were performing better is unclear, but the practice was widespread enough to be mentioned in multiple historical sources.
The Mind-Body Connection
Not all ancient performance enhancement was chemical. Greek athletes were among the first to recognize the connection between mental state and physical performance, developing techniques that modern sports psychologists would recognize.
Some athletes used meditation and visualization techniques, spending hours mentally rehearsing their events before competition. Others employed what we might now call "positive self-talk," repeating mantras or prayers designed to build confidence and focus.
The most sophisticated approach came from the Pythagoreans, followers of the famous mathematician who applied mathematical principles to athletic training. They believed that certain musical scales and rhythms could optimize physical performance, so athletes would train to specific musical accompaniments designed to enhance their natural abilities.
When Enhancement Became Cheating
The ancient world's attitude toward performance enhancement was complicated. While many substances and techniques were accepted as part of training, there were limits. The use of bull's blood was banned for safety reasons, and some competitions prohibited certain dietary practices in the days leading up to events.
Interestingly, the concept of "fair play" existed in ancient athletics, but it was defined differently than today. Bribery was considered far more serious than taking performance-enhancing substances. An athlete who paid off a judge faced severe punishment, while one who experimented with exotic diets or herbal preparations was simply being creative.
This distinction reveals something important about how different cultures define cheating. Ancient Greeks cared more about the integrity of the judging process than about ensuring all competitors had identical preparation methods. Modern sports have flipped this priority, accepting that judges might occasionally make mistakes while demanding that all athletes compete under identical chemical conditions.
The Eternal Arms Race
What's remarkable about ancient performance enhancement is how it mirrors modern doping scandals. Then, as now, athletes were willing to risk their health for competitive advantage. Then, as now, there was an ongoing arms race between new enhancement methods and efforts to control them.
The BALCO scandal, where athletes used designer steroids specifically created to avoid detection, has ancient parallels in Greek athletes who experimented with rare herbs and exotic animal products. The modern practice of "microdosing" steroids to stay below detection thresholds echoes ancient athletes who carefully calibrated their intake of potentially toxic substances.
Even the psychological aspects remain consistent. Modern athletes who use performance-enhancing drugs often rationalize their decision by claiming "everyone else is doing it." Ancient sources suggest similar thinking—athletes justified exotic dietary practices or herbal supplements by pointing to successful competitors who used similar methods.
Lessons From History
The story of ancient performance enhancement offers several insights for modern sports. First, the drive to gain a competitive edge through chemistry appears to be a fundamental part of human nature, not a product of modern commercialized athletics.
Second, what counts as "cheating" is largely cultural. Ancient athletes who consumed bull's blood weren't trying to cheat—they were trying to optimize their performance using the best methods available to them. Modern athletes who use banned substances often have similar motivations, even if we judge their actions differently.
Finally, the history suggests that completely eliminating performance enhancement might be impossible. As long as there are competitions with meaningful stakes, there will be competitors looking for any possible advantage. The question isn't whether athletes will try to enhance their performance—it's how society chooses to define the boundaries of acceptable enhancement.
From ancient Olympia to modern Olympic Villages, the fundamental human drive to be faster, stronger, and better has remained constant. The methods have evolved, the substances have become more sophisticated, and the detection techniques have improved—but the underlying motivation remains exactly the same. In that sense, Ben Johnson and Milo of Croton have more in common than either might have expected.
