- Mahuchikh finds solace in pre-jump routine
- Dnipro, her hometown, faces constant missile attacks
- She uses her platform to raise awareness and support
In between jumps, Yaroslava Mahuchikh returns to her bench, crawls beneath the sleeping bag she always brings into the arena, rests her head on her rucksack, and closes her eyes. She allows her thoughts to wash over her. Sometimes, she opens her eyes and looks up at the night sky. Ironically, Mahuchikh can only find serenity in the cauldron of an Olympic final, surrounded by an 80,000-strong crowd.
She doesn’t really fall asleep. “But I close my eyes,” Mahuchikh explains. “I have a camping blanket that stays cool in any temperature. Everything can be hot or cold, and everything will be fine. It’s my pre-jump relaxation, focusing solely on the jumps and noticing how comfortable I feel.”
There is undoubtedly little peace for her here, in the crowded La Villette folly where Ukraine has established its Olympic base. The room is complete with photographers, journalists, and dignitaries from all over the world, all vying for a selfie, a signature, or an interview with the new high jump gold medalist.
She appears hazy and dazed. She has scarcely slept an hour. She must return to the stadium immediately following this interview to collect her medal.
There is precious little peace for her back home. She is from Dnipro, in central Ukraine, a city of one million in the good old days but much smaller now, and one that is still being shelled by Russian missiles. Friends and relatives keep her up to date on the newest news. Rocket attacks are sent to her via the family WhatsApp group.
“I’m now 22, but I feel that a lot of things happened to me,” she tells me. Every time there is a missile assault, I worry I will lose my parents and family. Unfortunately, many children today are without parents. We live in the twenty-first century. We have technology and liberty, and the world is moving forward. We should be travelling and sharing experiences, but we can’t because we have to fight for our nation.”
When asked what she misses most about Dnipro before the conflict, Mahuchikh responds, “Good memories with my friends” “This is where we grew up together—the coffee. Dnipro is the coffee capital, with a large number of cafés.
“And I genuinely miss the aura of happiness. Because every time you feel pleased now, you remember the troops who died and left their families to protect us.
It is where she first discovered her passion for athletics. She began participating in track and field at the age of seven and attempted everything she could find, including hurdles, jumps, and throws. But soon, the high leap consumed her. “I liked the feeling of lightness,” she explains. “After the youth world championships in Kenya, where I won, I got that this was my work, my passion, and I wanted to win a gold medal someday.”
The day the Russians attacked, Mahuchikh took as much of her belongings as she could find, piled them into her car, and fled. From a nearby village, the Ukrainian athletics organization sought a way to get her out of the country. The journey to Belgrade took more than three days and included delays and checkpoints, distant explosions, and the faint sound of air raid sirens. She now trains in Portugal after living in Germany, Estonia, and Belgium in recent years.
Now in its third summer, the conflict feels as unstoppable as ever. Those of us who have not witnessed its atrocities understandably feel helpless, if not paralyzed, in the face of this never-ending catastrophe. So, what can athletes do tangibly beyond providing Ukrainians with brief moments of levity? So, what can the rest of us do?
“Invest in your future with Webull UK – get started with free shares.”
We talk to international media, which is extremely important,” Mahuchikh explains. Like every Ukrainian, we attempt to donate, aid people, and purchase items for our army. And the United Kingdom has really helped us. Many Ukrainians have visited there.
“Each country should unite. The battle began in 2014 with Luhansk and Donetsk, and now they claim we can end it if we give them territory. It is not possible. We should fight to the finish.”
So it is with Mahuchikh, the athlete whose campaign has not yet ended. She will compete in three more events this year, including the Diamond League Final in Brussels in September, followed by a lengthy winter training block. But first, let’s go home. “I’m looking forward to coming back to my own city, to see my family and friends, and to celebrate this gold medal with them,” she tells me.
Outside, in the courtyard, a large screen displays the Olympic action in a rolling loop. Punters sit under parasols, eating borscht and other traditional Ukrainian foods. Alongside them, a bizarre monument has been constructed. It is a set of chairs salvaged from the Sonyachny Stadium in Kharkiv, which has been demolished by Russian shelling and erected in the heart of Ukraine’s Olympics as a sad reminder of everything that has been taken from them.
