Should we really be surprised? The Tour de France requires a level of stamina that's been compared to running a marathon almost every day for three weeks on end. Retired Penn State professor Charles Yesalis, an expert on performance-enhancing drugs, has been quoted in many newspapers: "You cannot win the Tour de France without drugs." This year, nine riders, including three favorites, were disqualified before the race because they were linked to a blood-doping scandal. Landis shouldn't be convicted prematurely, but the doubts cast on him, the history of drug use in the sport, and even lingering suspicions about seven-time Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong have to make you wonder whether the race has become as much about science as it is about talent.

But these days, we seem to be under some kind of cultural mandate to make ourselves into four-leaf clovers. Even if we're not competing for Miss America or trying to win the Tour de France, most of us view our raw material as tragically sub-par. And because the technology to fix ourselves is readily available (and increasingly affordable), many feel entitled, even morally obliged, to do just that.

What's striking is that most of us aren't taking these measures in order to look spectacular; we're just trying get in the range of acceptability. When manicures can be had for $6 and teeth can be whitened overnight, there's simply no excuse for neglecting the details. Blame it on the flip-flop craze, but even going around without painted toenails is considered questionable.

Going around with synthetic testosterone in your body also is questionable, especially if you're headed for the finish line of the Tour de France. Ethically speaking, if Floyd Landis is found guilty of doping, he will have no excuse for his actions. He'll have to cede his title to the second-place finisher, and let's just hope that guy didn't cheat. Even so, the larger issue is this: Is it possible to compete in any arena, let alone win a race, without getting a little help from science?

As we crack down on athletes for using performance-enhancing drugs, we'd do well to consider where many of us would be without our own artificial enhancements. Given the amount of effort it takes these days to be ordinary, how can we expect the extraordinary from mere unmedicated mortals?