Our Sports’ Volunteer Problem

It's an open secret that races depend on unpaid labor, but it's not going to stay a secret forever. What then?

In October, the Ironman World Championship races relied on 5,000 volunteers over the course of the week to hand out water, check-in bikes, catch athletes at the finish line, and direct crowds. Volunteers came from local community groups, nonprofits, and school clubs, friends and family spectating, and even athletes who were finished racing.

And still it wasn’t enough.

Because of the two race days, organizers were originally looking for about 8,000 volunteers. A shortage for the Thursday race however, when people were still at work and athletes racing on Saturday hadn’t yet finished, forced Ironman to cut back on aid stations on the bike and run courses—spacing them out to approximately every 1.6 miles on the run instead of every mile, and every ten miles on the bike.

The changes caused a brief kerfuffle among triathletes and brought the practice of relying so heavily on volunteers back into the spotlight. Critics wanted to know why such an important race had come down to this. Why not just hire and pay staff to man these critical spots instead? Has the sport become too dependent on volunteer labor? Was it time to take a hard look at ourselves? Can we afford to?

Volunteers at an aid station at Challenge Cairns Photo: Matthew Kenwrick/Flickr

How volunteers keep our races running

At almost every race you’ve ever done there have been volunteers. You’ve probably volunteered at races, too. Most of the time we pitch in at the local triathlon or the charity fun run, and we tend to understand why these small mom-and-pop organizations need our help. Over the years, I’ve checked people in at registration, stood at intersections directing traffic, and even paddle-boarded around as water safety (and prayed no one needed my help). But, it’s no secret that bigger race companies also rely on the same kind of volunteer labor pool to keep our favorite events running smoothly. 

An Ironman spokesperson said the company uses volunteers for things like helping in the transition area, check-in, post-race food and awards, aid stations, and the popular finish line spots. Volunteers are typically not used for contract jobs like ringing up merchandise, manning security, or overseeing event operations, such as timing. (They can sometimes be used for water safety and staffing medical tents.) The two days of racing in Kona required 5,000 volunteers, but a regular full-distance event, like Ironman California, where I volunteered in Sacramento two weeks later, used just 3,000 volunteers—which Ironman said can vary by the location and needs. 

These helping hands come from a mix of places. The most common: 1. Community organizations, church youth groups, and school clubs looking for volunteer hours. (That’s why there are so often swarms of teenagers handing you water; it counts as community service.) 2. Local triathlon or running clubs chipping in because they also rely on these races staying afloat. 3. Friends, family, fans, and spectators who either are already going to be there or want one of the “fun” jobs; catching the pros at the finish line in Kona is a highly desirable gig.

Typically, volunteers are rewarded for their two- or three-hour shift with a t-shirt, snacks, and an invite to the volunteer party. At many brands’ races, volunteer captains—the volunteers who organize the groups of volunteers—also get extra swag; I once worked 12 hours organizing and captaining gear drop at the Nike Women’s Marathon for a pair of Nikes and a sweatshirt.

In some cases, depending on the circumstance, races will also make a “donation” to the organization that provides captains and bodies—ie. in exchange for heading up an aid station and supplying 20-30 people to run it in shifts over the six to eight hours, the race will give $1,000-2,000 to the organizing group. This is a popular way for college and youth clubs to fundraise; those numbers are approximately what my college triathlon club earned for volunteering at big regional races. Ironman, in another example, supplies what it calls “volunteerism grants,” in which local groups can apply to the Ironman Foundation for a grant for their volunteer work.

Nearly every race of every size relies on people working all of these mundane jobs in shifts in order to operate. Whether they’re paid or not, someone has to do these jobs. The problem, of course, is whether or not they should be paid.

The law and “volunteers"

“No matter how much someone loves Walmart, if they put on a blue vest and start greeting people at the door, Walmart legally has to pay them,” said Kelly Burns Gallagher, a labor and employment attorney, who also runs a coaching business and organizes two charity running races.

The point she’s making is simple: It doesn’t matter that we all love our favorite races and want to help them, there are still laws that govern employment practices. Those laws dictate when someone has to be paid and, in many cases, how much. 

A volunteer at Ironman Lake Tahoe helps an athlete at special needs. Photo: Chris Gray-Garcia, Placer County/Flickr

Burns Gallagher has earned a reputation for her warnings throughout the endurance sports world that race directors are opening themselves up to liability by ignoring the Fair Labor Standards Act. But the point she’s making is no secret. In 2014, Competitor Group Inc (which owned the Rock n’ Roll races and which was later purchased by Ironman) was sued by a bike lead volunteer for exactly this issue. The plaintiff alleged she thought she was volunteering to raise money for a local charity, and was misled into working for free for a for-profit company instead. The case was quietly dismissed in 2016 without news coverage and on a bit of a filing technicality—which means that the fundamental legal issues at its heart were not ruled on by a court.

If you were wondering what Competitor Group’s (CGI) legal argument was, there were a few issues they pointed to. When asked for their legal reasoning for using volunteers, an Ironman spokesperson also pointed us to those same court filings. The issues at hand in the decision amount to:

• There is an amusement and recreation exemption to the Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA), and at question would be whether a race meets the specific qualifications for that or is more like a for-profit gym. Those qualifications involve details like whether each race event is a distinct “establishment” that operates for less than seven months out of a year.

• There are also previously established FLSA tests to determine whether someone is an “employee” or not—such as whether they receive training, whether their work is specifically directed, if materials and equipment are provided or they supply their own, or if other employees are paid for similar work. CGI contended that the bike lead volunteer did not meet those standards and had no expectation of being paid or of it leading to paid work.

Neither of these questions were ruled on by the court.

Burns Gallagher, however, does point to other cases that were ruled on and that have established a few standards when it comes to volunteers—such as a case about volunteering at the MLB All-Star Game. The current legal red flags, she said, are:

• You can’t pay people to do something and then also have volunteers doing the same thing.

• You can’t have volunteers doing things that are “essential to the function of the business.”

All of this means that while volunteers right now make our races go ‘round, it’s likely only a matter of time before a mid-sized or large race organizer ends up back in court over those fundamental questions of whether races are exceptions to the wage laws or whether volunteers qualify as employees (and in what capacities). What then will be the effect on our sports?

What are the alternatives?

In 2019, Ironman Group filed for an IPO. When a company does that and goes public, they have to submit a massive filing with the SEC outlining all of the known risks, costs, revenue, potential challenges, and potential profits. In Ironman’s initial IPO filing, under a section titled “risk factors,” the company specifically calls out the importance of their community relationships and the volatile nature of mass participation events—and that includes volunteers:

“We are also heavily reliant on volunteers for the organization of our mass participation sports events, and a decline in numbers of volunteers or any restrictions on volunteers assisting with events would have a material adverse effect on the profitability of these events. If we are unable to rely on providers or volunteers for services in our mass participation sports business, it could cause disruptions to our events or otherwise adversely impact our relationships with our community of athletes.”

None of us want races to stop existing and, for the most part, race directors are already being hit from all sides—a backlog of deferrals and cash flow issues from COVID, increased supply costs, and decreased registrations still lagging after the last few years. If they also had to pay volunteers, many of them wouldn’t be able to stay afloat.

Take for example, Ironman California, where I worked at an aid station for a four-hour shift. Let’s say the 3,000 volunteers worked, on average, for four hours. Minimum wage in California is $15.50 as of today. That amounts to an extra $186,000 in labor costs—not counting the additional state workers comp and taxes you’d have to pay.

If a court rules, the choices for race directors may ultimately end up being fairly straightforward:

1. Cut back on all those shifts, eliminate some positions, use volunteers only in places that meet the legal requirements, and pay an hourly wage to the rest. In this case, race fees would have to go up to compensate and many frills might go away. In the Ironman California example above, it would amount to about $90 more per athlete.

2. Reorganize as a nonprofit race organization. This is the option Burns Gallagher strongly recommends to RDs, and it’s why many of the biggest races (New York Marathon, Boston Marathon) operate under a nonprofit organization that promotes health and wellness. It doesn’t get rid of all potential liability, but it does open up the door for people to volunteer in support of the nonprofit’s mission.

3. Get creative. This may ultimately require us to use our imagination: Work swaps between clubs. Discounts on races for people who volunteer for other events. More sustainable self-supported or supply-your-own-crew races. This is more complicated than the other options, but it’s a possibility for smaller grassroots events.

Probably not an option: Just hoping the question goes away.

There are principles out there in the world of economics about subsidized costs and hidden costs. For a long long time, we (ie. middle-class and wealthier consumers in western countries, especially the U.S.) have not paid the true costs for our food or clothing or goods. Many of the things we purchase have been subsidized by cheap labor or poor labor practices in other countries, by actual literal subsidies, or by corporate tax breaks. This isn’t hippy mumbo-jumbo, it’s just economic fact. It may also turn out to be fact that this is the case with our favorite races, too. And then we’ll have to answer the same questions: What are we willing to pay? For what kind of product? What can the market bear?