A group of older male runners head out in Kyiv every day even as Russian bombs fall around them
As the world watched the war in Ukraine intensify, Nikolai Plyuyko did something extraordinary. He went for an 11-kilometer run through the streets of Kyiv.
Plyuyko has participated in 48 marathons in his lifetime. Before retiring, he worked as an engineer and served in the Soviet army. Today, Plyuyko is 75 years old and lives alone in what he describes as “a sleepy part of Kyiv”. Since war broke out, Plyuyko has maintained his schedule of daily outdoor runs, running around 150km in the past two weeks.
He laughs when I ask him if he’s scared of running outside. “During my run, I often hear more than 10 explosions which are within a 20km distance,” he says stoically. “What’s the point of worrying? I’ve lived most of my life anyway.”
As Russian forces continue to destroy Ukrainian cities, break ceasefire rules and kill civilians, Ukrainians are terrified. In Kyiv, most people stay at home or in shelters overnight and keep outdoor trips to a minimum. At the time of writing, the centre of Kyiv has experienced a slightly more stable period than the first few days of the war, when Russian airstrikes colored the city’s skyline. Still, sounds of heavy fighting reverberate around the city’s historic buildings. During the daytime, the atmosphere is suppressed but hopeful, with people going outside to the pharmacy, to get food in shops and markets or for a quick walk to move their bodies. Yet, against all odds, and potentially their own safety, a small group of older runners are still heading out every day in Kyiv, sometimes running as Russian bombs fall around them.
According to Plyuyko, most of the people who have stayed behind are either the “lonely elderly” or those who are choosing to protect their towns and other people’s lives. He is one of Kyiv’s residents who has decided to stay in Ukraine to see the war through to the end. Just across town is Volodymyr Shymko (pictured), a 67-year-old who has also been running to fill the city’s empty streets. “So many people have left Kyiv. I can tell which of our neighbours have stayed behind judging by whether their lights are on, and there are very few people who have stayed,” he tells me solemnly over the phone.
Shymko, a Kyiv Polytechnic graduate, too, hopes that his running raises people’s morale. “I can’t go to fight at my age, there is an army for that, but we will see how the situation continues – maybe everyone will be forced to fight.”
Konstantin Bondarev, 61, is based in the south of the city with his wife and two other friends who have come to shelter in his house. He has been running long-distance since 1983. “Now that there has been war, I’ve been running non-stop; it makes things feel a lot easier during such turbulent times,” he tells me. Since 24 February, he has clocked 73km in running distance. “Right now, thoughts of war keep going round and round in my head; from the moment you wake up, you start ringing all your friends, asking if everyone is alive and well over the messaging app Viber. When there are always attacks, you wonder if anyone has been bombed.”
Shymko’s daughter and his grandson have fled to a part of the country that has now turned into a hotspot for Russian attacks. “They want to get out, but they can’t right now. I’m really worried about them; it’s a very grave situation.”
Still, Shymko continues to run. The trained engineer, who is now a pensioner, has been a keen athlete since the 1970s. “I’ve run 40 marathons, and I’ve been in Berlin, Prague, Bratislava, Poland, Belgium, all around Ukraine.” And what would stop him? “Only if someone was to shoot at me multiple times,” he says macabrely.
I spoke to everyone in Russian, as it was the only language we had in common, and I later translated the interviews to English. Listening back through the recordings, I could hear how much the men I spoke to really wanted to tell the stories of their lives and their runs. With a real possibility of Russian occupation, they were worried that their histories would be overwritten. When I asked for photos, they sent me dozens of images, some taken now and some taken when they are looking much younger. A horrible thought occurred; did they think this might be one of the last chances to be heard and to be seen by the rest of the world?
More information: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/mar/10/ukrainian-men-running-marathons-russia-invasion