Lifting With Katya

Elena pushed the door open and stepped into the sports center. People in tracksuits were shuffling through the entrance. Looking at them, you wouldn’t know they were the strongest weightlifters in Europe, she thought. Elena saw no one resembling Katya. She was hungry, and it was still another hour until the weigh-in. Aromas of coffee and fresh bread wafted through the lobby from the next-door cafeteria. Usually, she wouldn’t be here that early to suffer through another hour of an empty stomach. But she wanted to meet Katya as soon as possible. Meet her and then beat her.

She had met Katya online - a distant friend had sent her Katyas number saying: “This is your biggest rival at the Europeans. She’s an amazing lifter and a great person. You can learn a lot from her.” Surprisingly, Katya had responded to her message right away.

Over the last month, the two women talked nearly every day. Mostly about training. Elena was under a lot of pressure - she was 34 and this could be the last time she’d make it to this kind of competition. But there was more. Her trainer, Marcus, was struggling to keep his gym running. He owed money to the landlord and lived in mounting fear of eviction. If Elena won, he could count on subsidies to keep him afloat. It was a welcome surprise that Katya, who was her rival for the championship, seemed so happy to help her deal with the pressure.

As she made her way through the other lifters, eagerly scanning for her online friend, she wondered what it would be like to see her in real life. “I can’t wait to give you a big bear hug”, one of Katya’s messages from yesterday read. In her latest lifting video, she looked strong and dry. Tall. Definitely taller than Elena. But in the same weight category. They would fight each other today.

Elena moved through the big hall, looking for the sign that said “Weigh-In Women”. That’s where Katya would be sooner or later. She checked her phone - no message today. The last one from last night said, “Sleep tight - tomorrow’s the big day.”

Katya’s help and sympathy had intensified before the meet. “Don’t look ahead - only focus on the next lift”, she had written last week when Elena was reeling with fatigue. She had never felt so grateful for a fellow lifter. Most were superficial and hypocritical. But not Katya. “It’s normal to feel like this”, she had written. “It’s the same for me.”

Marcus, her coach, had said something similar. “Don’t you worry about next week now”, he shouted during that afternoon’s session. She had dropped the bar at a low percentage of her maximum weight and felt exhausted and hopeless. Hours later, Katya sent her compassionate message. How lucky she was to be surrounded by supportive people, Elena thought.

Dragging her heavy bag through the crowd where everyone seemed to be talking very loudly and laughing a lot, she got to the far end of the main hall and saw the weigh-in sign. She decided to sit down by the door and scroll on her phone. Her legs burned a little as she lowered herself to the floor. She was impatient to eat and feel better. And be with Katya.

Two Finnish women were sitting in the only chairs in the waiting area. Elena knew them as a jolly bunch who mostly stuck to themselves behind the curtain of their inscrutable language. She gave them a nod. On a good day, none of them could beat her. Her main struggle was with herself — and with Katya.

She couldn’t wait for her to finally show up. Elena felt like she knew her rival well - and yet there were so many questions she wanted to ask her. She dug her phone out of her tracksuit pants. Still no message. She decided to send one herself: “Good morning, already at the weigh-in.” This way, Katya wouldn’t waste time in the main hall and come straight to her.

She pulled up Katya’s latest training video that she had sent two days ago. A heavy snatch that she had to fight just a little bit, but then controlled well. “First time in a long time that I made 83,” the message read. Elena looked at the plates on the bar. Counting the weight mechanically, as you always do as a weightlifter. Red plates, white plates, collars, and tiny yellow plates. Hang on. Something was moving in the background of the video. A guy with a big mustache. Hahaha - he looked like Vahram Tcholakian. Famous Armenian lifter. Also dead since last fall from a car accident. I’ll have to ask Katya about that Doppelganger, Elena thought, smiling.

She scanned the corridor, looking for Katya’s cropped black hair. Nothing. No messages either. Still more than 40 minutes left until weigh-in, no point in being impatient.

Elena’s thoughts began to circle around food. Marcus was supposed to bring breakfast. Where was Marcus? He had a tendency to be late, but not on competition day. Her stomach was growling. More lifters arrived. “How you doin’?” one of the American lifters shouted at her. It was Andrea, an old acquaintance who was always too cheery before weigh-ins. Too cheery for Elena’s empty stomach anyway.

“I’m ok”, she answered a bit feebly. The nervousness was spreading like a liquid from her stomach to the rest of her body. She told herself that it was just the hunger; soon she would be able to eat.

“There you are!” Marcus was walking towards her. It felt good to hear his voice. “Do you have my breakfast?” she asked. “Of course”, he said. “I got you all the things you love, even the fancy Chia-Pudding and the chocolate bar for after the competition. I need you to be super focused.” He looked away. “I will be focused”, Elena said quietly. “Have you seen Katya around?” “Nope”, Marcus said and started rummaging in his bag. Elena checked her phone again - nothing. “Isn’t it weird that she isn’t messaging me?” she asked. “Don’t worry”, Marcus said. “Remember that she’s not your friend today.”

Elena looked at her coach. That was a weird thing to say. All these last months, he had celebrated her connection with Katya, saying that she was a great lifter who could teach her a lot. It had always been clear that they would face each other off on the platform today - so why wouldn’t they be friends anymore?

She checked her phone again. Nothing. And another fifteen minutes until weigh-in. Time seemed to be standing still. And running too fast - she wouldn’t be able to catch up with Katya before they’d be called inside.

She had an idea. “Hey Marcus,” she said, “look at this lifting video Katya sent last week. The guy in the background - he looks like Tcholakian”, she laughed. “Don’t look at those now, Elena, this will only distract you!” Marcus moved his hand to her phone in a downward motion. Taken by surprise, she dropped the phone. The clattering noise made Marcus jump. “I’m sorry”, he said, “didn’t mean to. Just put it away now.”

The door to the weigh-in room was opened from the inside. A smiling woman in her forties with thick, long gray hair looked at the athletes that were gathered in the hallway - most of them sitting on the floor, some leaning against the wall - and the two Fins in the chairs. The woman was wearing a navy blue suit, white shirt, and a tie - the officials at weightlifting meets always wore uniform. Some of them were intimidating. But this was Lydia, whom she had known since her very first competition.

“We’ll start with Elena Armstrong”, Lydia shouted and smiled around until she caught Elena’s eye. Elena got up and took a deep breath. Soon she would be able to eat.

Inside, she found herself in a bright and clean locker room. There was a folding table with some papers on it, and next to it a scale. Elena stripped down to her underwear. Lydia read out her weight and wrote it down. Elena stepped off the scale and announced her starting weights for the two lifts that she was going to perform. “Seventy-five kilograms for the snatch and ninety-one kilograms for the clean and jerk.” It was an ambitious start that Marcus had pushed her to go for. Only after consulting with Katya had Elena decided to accept.

Now she needed to sign the weigh-in protocol. She was curious about the other lifters in the document, but everything was concealed. It made it impossible to adapt your starting weights to what the others were doing, which would be cheating. But it also prevented Elena from looking for Katya’s name on the list. Just then, she remembered something. Outside, the list of the athletes’ names would be stuck to the door. She would check if Katya was on there. It hadn’t even occurred to her until now - but Katya’s silence and absence were beginning to cause her to worry.

When Elena was fully dressed again, Lydia opened the door and shouted the name of the next lifter. Elena stepped outside and waited for the door to close behind her to have a look at the list. Suddenly, she felt someone grab her arm. Marcus was pulling her away from the door and said, “You urgently need to eat, come on.” She felt irritated. She really wanted to look at the list. Now, with Marcus dragging her away, she looked around at the women waiting to be weighed. Katya wasn’t there.

“I want to wait for Katya”, she turned to Marcus. “I’ve been waiting so long to meet her.” “Of course”, Marcus said and stuck his hand into his bag. He took out a wrapped sandwich and gave it to her. “But you need to eat.” Just as she grabbed the sandwich, one of the Finnish lifters, on her way to the weigh-in room, bumped into her from behind, nearly making her drop the sandwich. A flash of anger ran through her. “I just want to wait for Katya and have something to eat”, she thought. “Why can’t I be left alone?” But Marcus kept pulling on her arm and, dazed with hunger and nervousness, she let herself be led away.

They sat down in the bleachers from where they could watch the competition that had started with another weight category. Elena chewed her food thoughtfully - no way she wanted to upset her stomach before lifting. But her thoughts kept returning to Katya. She looked at her phone. Still nothing. “You wanna leave that phone alone now”, Marcus said. “Yeah, but I haven’t heard from Katya, I haven’t seen her at the weigh-in, and I’m really beginning to worry now”, she said.

Marcus touched her arm with his left hand. He raised his right hand like he was going to say something important. Then he dropped it again. “I understand”, he said. “I know that you two have gotten close. But you really need to focus on your lifting now. You’ve worked many months for this.” And the survival of your gym depends on it, Elena thought.

Marcus was right. But deep inside, she knew that she couldn’t put Katya out of her mind just like that. They got up from the bleachers to move to the warm-up zone. Marcus said he was going to borrow some technical plates for her warm-up and told her to pick a platform. As soon as she was inside and had chosen her spot, she quickly grabbed her phone to check if there was a message from Katya. Peering anxiously around her, so Marcus wouldn’t catch her in the act, she pulled up her message history with Katya. There was nothing new. But there! The dots on Katya’s side were moving - she was typing something!!!!

Elena dropped her bag on a bench next to the platform and turned her back to the counter where Marcus was getting the plates. Still typing. What was going on with Katya? Why wasn’t she there? She would finally find out. Still typing. This was taking too long. She turned around to see what Marcus was doing. He was holding the plates he had borrowed but still standing next to the table, looking at his phone. Typing something. Gotcha, she thought. Probably fending off his landlord, who hadn’t gotten his rent in several months. Marcus should be focusing too and not messaging people, Elena thought with a hint of satisfaction.

She checked her phone again. The typing had stopped. No message. Shit! Now she seriously needed to focus. She put the phone away. And started warming up. She kept scanning the warm-up area. Still no sign of Katya.

After some mobilizations, she started working with the bar. The chalk was making small clouds around her hands. She squeezed her thumb under her fingers for a hook grip. She felt good. The noise around her became like a canvas - no single sound reached her consciousness.

She could feel the strength from her body transferring to the bar. It was something that Katya had taught her. “Don’t think that you’re fighting the bar. Make it a part of your body that you are moving, that you are mastering.” It had changed her way of approaching the lifts forever.

Soon she was pulling fifty kilograms, then sixty kilograms. Marcus checked the board and told her she would be called in 10 minutes. There was time. She wanted to go to the board and see if Katya’s name was on there. But she knew that Marcus wouldn’t have it. And Katya wasn’t around. That much she knew.

By now, she was warming up with seventy kilograms. Her starting weight was up. Marcus walked towards her from the board, making signs for her to get ready. She moved towards the platform. She couldn’t help but think of Katya. Maybe she was watching from somewhere.

Elena’s name was called. She put her hands inside the chalk box. Now it was just her and the bar. In her mind, she took her body through the movements. Focus. She tensed her body, lifted the bar off the floor, and then exploded with all the strength she could muster. The bar was overhead. Good lift.

She turned back and saw Marcus. He looked happy. When she walked towards him, he turned around quickly and went to the board again. Making sure she would be ready for her second attempt, she guessed. When she was called again, she knew right away that her mind was off. Marcus seemed different. Katya wasn’t here. Was something going on that she didn’t get? She went out, tensed her body, but didn’t manage to let it go in the second part of the lift. The bar stayed halfway up, and she had to drop it.

Marcus smiled, but the smile didn’t make it all the way to his eyes. He never made any drama around failed lifts. “One of the Fins has made this lift”, he said matter-of-factly. “If you want to keep your chance of winning, you have to go for more in the next one.” Elena nodded. “When you feel defeated, up the stakes”, Katya had written to her a few weeks ago. “Let’s go for it”, she said.

This time, the thought of Katya helped her focus. Up the stakes, she thought, here I come. When the bar came off the floor, it felt light, and she focused on executing a perfect movement. Boom! She was standing with the barbell over her head. Good lift. Relief washed over her like summer rain.

If she could keep her focus, she would win this.

Three attempts in the clean and jerk were up next. They were her strongest lifts. A calm energy pulsed through her body. Focus, she thought, over and over again.

Marcus kept walking to the board, making sure she wouldn’t miss her call. He checked his watch time and time again to calculate and recalculate how many minutes were left. Warming up for the clean and jerk, Elena allowed her thoughts to move to Katya one more time. After the competition, she would find out what had happened. She didn’t want to lose a friend before she had even met her.

The call for her came. Marcus walked her to the platform. “All you need is focus”, he said. “They call it the zone, but I like to see it as a bubble. You’re inside, no one can touch you, but you can see everything that’s going on around you.”

She stared at him. Her brain felt like a balloon with too much air in it. It was about to explode. She had read those exact words the week before. Words she thought were from her new friend, Katya.

She had 45 seconds left to step on the platform. Not a lot. But enough for her to understand.

There was no Katya. There was only deception, despair, deviousness, and love.

She chalked her hands and walked to the bar.