yesuliya Levchenko arrived apologetically, although it was not necessary at all. She was traveling through Kiev after watching her sister Polina, a high jumper, compete in a local competition, and the reason she was half an hour late was annoyingly familiar. An air raid siren disrupted proceedings and, as usual, athletes had to take shelter until the skies were deemed safe enough. She still achieved a personal best, she smiles, as she recalls Polina accompanying her to this quiet café on the city’s Left Bank.
This is a daily snapshot of the challenges Ukrainian athletes have to overcome as they try to launch their careers, often with stunning results. There is an undercurrent of terror in a beautiful late spring day like this. “You know, it seems like we’ve adapted to the situation,” Levchenko said. “It’s terrible because it was really nonsense, but now we have adapted. Kiev is now safer than Dnipro or Kharkov. It is safe, but not safe.
With 50 days left before the start of the 2024 Paris Olympics, which will be her third Olympics, the 26-year-old can say she’s back to her old self. The 1.98m platform in Chorzow last July exceeded the qualifying standard and unleashed what she described as a “volcanic” feeling. “From that moment on, I had a leap of emotion and strength,” she said. “It was like a huge award for me, a very exciting moment. And then I felt like I could dance like I did in previous years. It’s possible, and I can…” she paused. “I can allow it.”
She explained that one of the strongest feelings she’s had since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 has been guilt for being in a profession that she loves but “doesn’t matter to other people.” Loved ones can help provide another perspective.
Our meeting comes less than a week after Oleksandr Usyk’s victory over Tyson Fury for the world heavyweight title filled the country with pride. “My mum usually says ‘boxing is not for ladies’, but even she cried. She called me and said: ‘Yulia, every win is important for us. “After that, you feel that our overall dream, our victory in Ukraine, can become a reality.
Essentially, it’s motivation to keep going, but there’s still an exhausting burden. Levchenko comes across as thoughtful and considerate to a fault, which extends to how she manages interactions with her foreign counterparts. They were supportive and engaged, but she worried about sounding like a broken record. “I can say to them, ‘I’m depressed and everything is terrible because I lost my friend in the war yesterday,'” she said.
“But it’s not always possible to say: ‘You just have to think about me and my country’. I don’t always know how to do it properly, to talk about our situation and ask for support without forcing it on others because they You have your own life goals and you need to do your own work.
When your country is under attack and people in your circle are suffering, what used to be standard behavior becomes difficult to measure. “One moment you’re laughing, and a few seconds later the terrible news makes you cry,” she said. “Then you are neutral because you don’t know how to express your emotions correctly. When you have time to reflect later, you start thinking: ‘Was my reaction better this way or that way?’ ” It takes a lot of energy: you’re always thinking about things that you can relax about in your daily life.
Levchenko came to prominence in 2014 when he won a gold medal at the Youth Olympics. She only took up the sport after one of her teachers in Kiev, Tamara Konstantinivka, discovered her athletic potential during a school football tournament three years ago. “Teenagers and children all like to dance,” she said brightly. “It’s ‘Wow, I can jump, that’s cool!’ It’s fun and that’s why I love high jumping.
“You know, you can just be a teacher, teach something, and say, ‘Goodbye, our lesson is over.'” But she took my hand, and off we went. She literally made my life because I don’t know where I would be if she had ignored the invitation.
A silver medal at the 2017 World Championships in London was her high point, and the 26-year-old had time to rival her compatriot Yaroslava Mahuchikh, who topped the global rankings, and won a bronze medal at the 2020 Tokyo Olympics.
“In 2022, I thought my sporting career was over. First of all, you never know if you will survive: home should be your castle, where you feel safe, but I woke up and found it was the world One of the most unsafe places. I feel like I need to save my life or help but I can’t exercise like I used to. “Sports, come on, who needs exercise now? ” is a lower priority.
After Russia attacked, she left Kiev for the west of the country and was surprised when her coach suggested a training camp in Portugal. “Training camp? Now? Seriously? First, she had to make sure Polina, her mother, and their pets were safe. She found an apartment with her manager in Estonia, and Levchenko drove them all the way to the camp.
The thought of jumping again remains unfathomable. “Do I need to jump or learn something new?” she wondered. “I think I might need a different job because I don’t know if I can go home.”
Recalling the first time she participated in a competitive jump since her life was turned upside down, she couldn’t help but elicit a burst of light-hearted self-deprecating laughter. That May was in Eugene, Oregon, and just being there felt magical. “I was like a total loser. When you compete, you need to be a warrior. But I was just: ‘Ah, well, that’s not a problem, I love everybody!’ “
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“I’ve had so much support from all the other athletes who have been asking what’s going on, it’s like I forgot I needed to jump. I’ve gotten that back from people who have supported me and in that moment it’s better than showing results are more important.
“Now… I don’t agree with my past self. I know I need to be a fighting character and not: “Ugh, loser,” but it takes time to understand that. You need to live with it and then, over time , you will understand how to survive with these things in your head.
In Paris, she won’t have to deal with the added pressure of facing Russian athletes, whether under a neutral flag or not: they will continue to be excluded from all athletics events. Levchenko’s analysis is once again extremely sensitive. “Honestly, at first we were waiting for them to say: ‘We’re sorry, this is not normal and we want to do something,'” she said.
“But it was just silence. I can’t imagine how they could meet someone competing in high jump at a competition and say, ‘Hey, everything’s fine.’ Of course, many of us are waiting. We await their support because support is sent from all over the world. Not so with Russian athletes. They dare not say anything, and now, in athletics, they compete only with countries that support this war.
“As an athlete, I don’t want to damage other people’s careers. But I also can’t support it when Russian missiles destroy our sports facilities and kill many athletes. I don’t know how we differentiate between sport and real life. How can we communicate if you’re always between life and death when it comes to text messages from their country?
Iryna Herashchenko is another outstanding Ukrainian high jumper and Levchenko’s training partner. “Partner in crime,” she said, smiling. “This is an individual event, but we feel like a close-knit team. Sometimes you are the bad cop and Irina is the good cop.
Assuming Makhuchih reaches the podium, it would be an achievement for at least one of the two top eight players in the world to join her, but Levchenko knows there is a bigger picture. “We want to represent our country, our team, our spirit,” she said. “We have the right to play sports, to join the Olympic community and to participate in the Olympic tradition.
“We want to be with the world and feel that connection. It’s a basic human right and should be as simple as saying ‘I want to cook something’. It’s important to show that we, Europe’s largest country, want to integrate with the modern world. Ordinary people don’t want war or death. We need peace because only then can we create our future.
When it was time to leave, Levchenko headed to the sidewalk with Polina, who was waiting friendly but certainly exhausted after a day of competition and turmoil. “It’s a big step and sometimes you feel like you can touch it,” she recalled for the last time the task she faced in Paris.
Through all these conflicting ideas, pride will come from embodying Ukraine’s place in the world.
