THE FINAL AFTERNOON of my stay in the Philippines, I ride in Sutton's van as he follows Wellington on a hard bike ride. He's sent the team off in front of her, explaining to me that her bike strength was demoralizing not only most of the women but some of the men. "Look at that," he says, pointing to the speedometer as we buzz along a flat road. It reads a bit over 30 miles per hour. "This is what I was seeing last year. And people thought I was crazy to send her to Hawaii." Wellington is looking fitter than she did last October, stronger and several pounds lighter. Wellington has said it's important to her to show the world she's for real. Having crushed the doubters, the question now is whether she will break to pieces, get sick of it all, or leave Sutton. Another rap is that he burns people out. One of those who stuck with him the longest, Loretta Harrop, struggled with injuries in the last part of her career.

"We've gone up against Sutton for 20 years now," says Pete Coulson, an Aussie who has coached his wife, Michellie Jones, from the early 1990s to the present. "I think Michellie came in second to four of his world champions. If you look at results only, he's the best coach there is, no doubt about it."

Coulson's criticism of his rival centers on the cumulative mental and physical punishment he doles out. "You look at his athletes, they're phenomenal for about two years and then they're gone. Michellie wouldn't last in his program. Do you want to be great for two years, or do you want a career? Time will tell with Wellington. Looking at her right now, she may be the best Ironman triathlete ever produced."

Rukosuev—who grew up training on a swim team in Siberia—doesn't see the problem. "It was when I was closest to injury that I had my best races," he says. "Would you rather have the two years of success or five years of mediocrity? Yes, Sutton buries you. Or you could be mediocre for five years. Who cares?"