Sovetsky Sport. June 11, 1997. Lena had an orphaned childhood. Her family circumstances dictated that she was raised by her grandmother, Anna Ivanovna, from the age of three. She grew up shy and reclusive, but very disciplined and hardworking. As a first grader, she began gymnastics at the Nauka Stadium. She was taught the intricacies of gymnastics by A. Oleshko. However, the gym was soon taken away from the gymnasts, handed over to wrestlers, and Lena began attending Dinamo Stadium, where she was coached by Alexander Eglit.
At fourteen, she became a candidate for master. In 1975, Eglit transferred to work at CSKA and, as was customary, 'dragged' his student along with him. Here, the strong, slender girl was trained to become an outstanding gymnast. Lena grasped the most difficult elements on the fly!
In 1976, she became a Master of Sports, and at the end of the year she won the USSR youth championship and was named to the national team's main roster. The following year, she made a successful debut on the senior stage. In 1977, she finished second in the all-around at the USSR championships and earned a spot at the European Championships. The debutante lost to Romanian Nadia Comaneci in the all-around, but won the balance beam, uneven bars, and floor exercises!
1978 was a triumphant year. She became the all-around USSR and world champion! Perhaps no other gymnast had ever experienced such a meteoric rise.
She started off the 1979 year well too - she once again became the European champion in the uneven bars, where she captivated everyone with her performance of the Korbut Loop - a flip into a hang on the top bar, in a very difficult version with a 360-degree twist!
...Over the years, when Lena could only get around in a wheelchair, I visited her several times and called her on the phone. She was completely unwilling to give any interviews. But recently, I finally persuaded her to tell me about herself. Elena must have been intrigued by my first question.
Lena, why didn't you compete at the 1979 World Championships?
Even before the 1979 European Championships, I felt tired, lethargic, and sluggish. I was straining my way through the preparations for the USSR Spartakiad. I only placed fourteenth, and soon after I broke my leg during training. I considered quitting professional gymnastics altogether. However, it turned out to be no easy feat. I was the only gymnast at CSKA that could have qualified for the 1980 Olympics in Moscow. Mikhail Yakovlevich, as the team manager, was interested in my participation. And I wanted to get on the Olympic podium - what athlete doesn't dream of an Olympic medal? I was sure that after our defeat at the 1979 World Championships, we would beat the Romanians. Being at home would help. I agreed with the coach's arguments - and he was a good persuader - and began preparing for the 1980 season.
I started training even before the cast came off - I needed to get back into shape. To succeed at the Olympics, I needed to prepare a program that would make me stand out. Mikhail Yakovlevich set me the goal of winning a medal in the individual competition. And I began learning a very impressive, impactful element on the floor exercise, never before performed by anyone else: a one and a half tucked back somersault with a 540-degree twist into a forward roll. I mastered it fairly quickly, but usually performed it with the coach's help. On July 2, the final Olympic team roster would be determined, and Mikhail Yakovlevich left for Moscow. On July 3, we had a "mode" workout where we had to perform our exercises in their entirety. I decided to try all the new moves without a trainer's supervision...
...And the days dragged on, no, they literally flew by with some incomprehensible speed. Days between life and death. Three operations, a sanatorium in Saki. Muscle numbness was imperceptibly replaced by pain. The sensation of pain in my arms and legs gave me hope. Hope that I wouldn't remain a motionless doll...
There were rumors that Valentin Dikul wanted to treat you - in the mid 1980s, legends were made about the miracles of his system - but apparently you didn't want to take advantage of his help.
Yes, in the summer of 1985 I started training according to Dikul's system. Back then, I was simply forced to do it, though not by Dikul himself but by those around me. As a result, due to excessive strain, I ended up in surgery again that fall - my kidneys had failed. I underwent two operations and spent over four months in the hospital. And idle gossip accused me of all sorts of serious offenses. It's bitter and hurtful to remember. I had to give up training altogether, refrain from other people's dictates, trust my own feelings more, and increasingly turn to alternative medicine. And, thank God, I feel more or less okay now.
Lena, do you believe in God?
Of course. I tell myself: if I'm alive, it means that someone needs me. I didn't believe in God before because I knew nothing about him, about faith. No one explained to me who God is, although I sometimes wondered about it. Reading philosophical and religious literature and talking with believers helped me to come to God. I became more balanced, calmer, learned to control myself and, most importantly, to enjoy life.
What is your routine, what do you during the day, who is around you?
What I didn't like about training camps was the routine. Now I just live. I wake up and go to sleep whenever I want. I train at a set time - my training depends not only on me, but also on the person leading it. But otherwise, I read and watch TV - the CSKA people installed a dish antenna for me. It's my connection to the world, so maybe my perceptions of events don't completely correspond to reality but are inspired only by the TV.
I love to daydream, looking out the window. I'm moved by the depths of the endless blue distance, the flight of slowly drifting clouds. I can spend hours watching them form and disintegrate into the most bizarre shapes.
And my grandmother still looks after me, just like she did when I was a child. She's 85 now and doesn't go outside anymore. A social security nurse buys my groceries. I'm surrounded by kind people, and I'm grateful to them for everything!
After what happened to you in Minsk, rumors appeared in the press that many girls stopped training.
This was just another fabrication. At the 1980 Moscow Olympics, our girls competed calmly and won. After the Olympics, two of them retired from professional gymnastics: Nellie Kim, who was already 24, and Natasha Shaposhnikova, who likely simply lost confidence in her abilities after her brilliant victory at the USSR Spartakiad - she was tipped to be the overall Olympic champion, but only finished fourth. The other girls continued to compete successfully.
How the difficulty of the exercises has increased since then! To my generation, much of what is performed now seemed impossible.
Television, of course, helped me follow the developments of gymnastics and rejoice in our girls' successes. But lately, gymnastics has been deprived of airtime. Only scant footage of news reports makes it onto the silver screen. What a shame!
E. AVSENEV