Stanislava Konstantinova: “Maybe that’s why I didn’t become an Olympic champion or a world champion – because enjoying skating and connecting with the audience was just as important to me as placements and medals.”
Big interview with Stanislava Konstantinova.
original source: Sports
In a big interview with Sports, former Russian single skater Staislava Konstantinova talks about her career, competition with Evgenia Medvedeva, not getting to Olympics, problems with nutrition and her works as choreographer now. Here’s a translation.
“Q: You recently became the host of the show “This is Hockey, Bro.” How did that happen?
Stanislava Konstantinova: It was pure chance. I got the offer, and I didn’t hesitate for a moment. I love working on camera, and I love hockey. It’s on the same ice, but compared to figure skating, it provides the audience with a hundred times more emotion.
I’m not a professional host, and previously, I only appeared on camera as a guest or an expert, not as the face of the program. So now it’s important for me to take things to the next level and learn how to present myself differently.
I’m working with a speech coach twice a week and constantly practicing tongue twisters. I’m also diving deeper into hockey as a subject.
Q: What else fills your time besides the hockey show?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I choreograph programs for young skaters, perform in shows, and even film reels at the rink. While I’m interested in media, my priority remains choreography. I feel like that’s where I truly belong.
Q: Do you see yourself becoming someone like Tamara Moskvina or Tatiana Tarasova in the future?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Right now, it’s hard for me to imagine handling that level of responsibility. Plus, I’m still a student — I’ll be graduating from university this year. At this stage, I see myself more in creative program choreography rather than as a strategic coach fully responsible for their students.
Q: Do you work with skaters who compete at a high level?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Yes, I work with promising junior skaters. In general, I try to listen to all the feedback I get. I attended test skates, and everyone joked, “Konstantinova, what are you doing here? Are you planning a comeback?” And I’d respond, “God forbid!”
I approached coaches and judges, asked for their opinions on my work, and tried to incorporate their suggestions. Choreography is such a creative process — adjusting all the elements to ensure it’s convenient for the skater while also appealing to the judges.
Q: How do you feel about programs like Elena Kostyleva’s, where the focus is on jumping from one element to the next without much attention to choreography, but they still score highly?
Stanislava Konstantinova: As a former skater, I understand that it’s hard to include a lot of choreography when you’ve packed in so many ultra-C elements. If a skater is landing difficult combos, like 3-3s in the second half of a program, it’s natural to minimize some of the choreography.
It makes sense to prioritize jumps — if you have a beautiful, complex program but don’t land your jumps, what’s the point? But it’s also important to have a balance. There will always be someone who can do both — skate with complexity and beauty. Sure, racing across the ice to land a quad isn’t bad because executing a quad is impressive on its own. But you can balance it out with an interesting program introduction or a musical highlight.
Q: You don’t work exclusively with any specific school. How do young skaters find you for choreography?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Word of mouth. I’m probably known in the skating world as someone artistic because choreographing programs and feeling music requires creativity at heart. People who stood out in their presentation on the ice often make great choreographers.
Typically, parents and coaches come to me with three common requests: they want something unique, feminine, or in my personal style. I’m incredibly flattered when they ask for “something like yours” because I don’t consider my skating to be some kind of standard.
Q: Overly involved figure skating moms have become a bit of a meme. Have you encountered anything like that?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Of course. I work at training camps where I see a large number of children, and, let’s just say, very invested parents show up often. From a human perspective, I completely understand it — every parent wants the best for their child. If I were them, I’d probably feel the same. How could you not?
But it’s also important to set and defend your boundaries. The most common scenario occurs when a child from another city comes to me for choreography. We work on the program, but there’s not enough time to fully practice it. Maybe they can perform it cleanly every other time. In such cases, I personally skate the difficult segments very slowly, explaining each movement step-by-step, and provide them with a video of me so they can polish those moments at home with their coach.
And then some parents will say, “Stanislava, can you perform the entire program so we can record it?” There was one instance where I had just recovered from a long illness and was struggling to skate at all, but a mom insisted that I perform a 4-minute Candidate for Master of Sports level program for her.
Q: How did you respond?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I said that a 14-year-old should be able to memorize the program themselves. If they really wanted, I told them I could record the skater going through it with my commentary.
People often think that if you’re kind to them, it means you owe them something. I’m an agreeable and flexible person, and if something is possible, I’m always willing to adapt.
Sometimes I manage to connect with children who are considered “difficult” and whom very few people are able to work with. I approach them as equals, supporting them rather than scolding. But that doesn’t mean I allow people to take advantage of me.
Leaving the World of Competitive Skating
Q: You ended your competitive career two years ago, but you only appeared in Plushenko’s show this past winter. Why not earlier?
Stanislava Konstantinova: When I left competitive skating, I was absolutely sick of figure skating. I had an injury that made it impossible to jump with my left leg, which ruled out the salchow, axel, and toe loop — everything essential for shows.
On top of that, I gained weight, caught COVID, and completely lost my fitness. I received invitations to perform, but I knew I wasn’t ready to appear in public in such a state.
Q: Almost every figure skater gains weight after retiring from competition.
Stanislava Konstantinova: Of course. While you’re in the sport, you keep yourself under strict control, but when those restrictions fall away, you think, “Okay, I’ll let myself relax for a bit, and then I’ll quickly bounce back and everything will be as it was.” But that’s not how it works.
You get used to eating as much as you want, and worse, you start to feel sorry for yourself. You think, “I’ve gone through so much; surely I can indulge myself now.” But at some point, food stops bringing pleasure. You step on the scale and see +15 kilograms. You put on your skates and realize you can’t do anything anymore.
What’s even worse is when people around you start pointing it out, as if you’re not already aware and struggling with it yourself.
Q: How did you overcome it?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Looking back, I’m grateful for the tough first year after I left the sport. It was important for me to shift my focus away from my body, which had been my top priority for so many years, and toward my overall life values. I wanted to stop judging myself so harshly and focus on trying to be happy.
But eventually, I realized I’d had enough indulgence. I started going to the gym and gradually losing weight. Around that time, Yana Rudkovskaya called and invited me to join a show. It was nerve-wracking because at my age, getting triple jumps back is, to put it mildly, not easy.
I’d taken nearly a two-year break, and my body was different. What helped was that regular gym sessions had put me in decent physical shape.
These days, I mostly jump the triple salchow. But it’s tough — it requires experience and consistent performance, which doesn’t combine well with my other activities. Surprisingly, even now, if my morning training session doesn’t go well, I’ll be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. For instance, if I have a photoshoot, I’ll just sit there thinking, “How could I miss that loop jump?!” It’s like I’m 12 years old all over again.
Q: You mentioned you felt depressed after retiring from the sport.
Stanislava Konstantinova: Depression is a medical diagnosis, but yes, it was very tough. Imagine this: for years, you lived on a structured schedule, worked toward a goal, and then suddenly realize there’s no goal anymore. You didn’t accomplish what you set out to do, and you never will. Life feels like it’s falling to pieces.
You cling to hope — “Maybe if I rest, I’ll come back? Maybe the pain in my leg will go away, and everything will work out?” Then you try to sweeten the pill with rest and fun.
About three months after I retired, a coach invited me to the ice to help choreograph for kids. And there I was, stumbling around in oversized sweatpants and a huge jacket, barely shuffling from one side of the rink to the other, realizing that I would never skate again. Others skated beautifully, while my role had become moving between the boards.
That realization crushed me. At that moment, I told myself I wasn’t ready to become a coach just yet.
Talking About Weight
Q: At age 16, you spoke about keeping a strict diet. When did this issue arise?
Stanislava Konstantinova: When someone says, “I don’t eat anything” or “I live on just salad,” yet still gains weight and looks chubby, they’re probably lying — not to others, but to themselves. If they started writing down everything they ate throughout the day, they’d likely see they’re overeating after all.
In 2019, after a good season, I started experiencing a strange physical problem. During the free skate, my legs would get extremely fatigued after the second or third jump, and I couldn’t do anything. People who understood such situations recommended that I take a break, rest, and check my health, but I was stubborn. My coaches told me that I needed to lose weight, claiming all my problems stemmed from excess weight. But I couldn’t lose weight no matter how hard I tried.
Q: Why?
Stanislava Konstantinova: At that time, I was already dealing with issues related to my cycle and was taking hormonal medications. Thankfully, the last shred of common sense told me that I couldn’t stop eating altogether; otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to function. So, I tried to stick to healthy eating habits and went running on the treadmill.
Then the pandemic began. On top of the stress, I gained a couple more kilograms, which was extremely critical for me. That’s when I really pushed myself — I ate only salads, trained heavily, and lost 5 kilograms in a short period.
While living with my parents in Saint Petersburg, they monitored my diet. But when I moved to Moscow to join Evgeniy Viktorovich (Plushenko) and started living alone, no one was there to control me anymore. That’s when all the craziness began.
Q: Is it true that on rest days, you would sometimes not eat anything at all?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Rest days without training were the hardest. I’d step on the scale in the evening, realizing there would be weigh-ins and training the next day, and see I’d gained 2 kilograms. I’d wrap myself in plastic wrap and go running.
Then came a “brilliant” idea: after Saturday’s training, I’d go to a café, eat syrniki (cheese pancakes) and coffee — because I wasn’t allowed to have coffee or syrniki — and then spend the rest of Saturday and all of Sunday without eating anything.
When it became unbearable, I might eat a tiny candy or an apple or drink Coke Zero. Sometimes, I couldn’t fall asleep because of hunger. But using this method, I managed to maintain my weight for quite some time.
Q: Did Plushenko scold you for your weight?
Stanislava Konstantinova: No, no one scolded me or kicked me out of training. But every morning, there were weigh-ins, and I convinced myself that I couldn’t weigh more than 55 kilograms. That number was already too high because my body is naturally prone to gaining muscle mass. My best results were at 52 kilograms; 54–55 kilograms was already my upper limit, and if I weighed more, jumping became difficult.
It’s paradoxical — you focus not on skating well, on jumps, or on other elements, but solely on the number on the scale. If you’re 300 grams over, you wake up earlier and go running before training. And then, even if you see your target number on the scale, you step on the ice, dizzy and lightheaded.
It becomes like an obsession. You restrict yourself to the extreme, then binge eat, berate yourself, and repeat the cycle. My diet became incredibly monotonous — I ate only turkey, chicken, buckwheat, eggs, and protein bars, and that was all. For several years, I avoided beef, as well as any side dishes other than buckwheat.
At events with buffet tables, you stand there calculating what you can eat. You think that taking a little of everything won’t hurt, but then you step on the scale and…
Q: Did all of these restrictions end once you retired from the sport?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Toward the end of my career, I started gaining weight. I realized that I couldn’t control myself anymore; it was beyond me. I started going out to restaurants frequently and making pancakes at home. Sometimes, I’d binge eat — ice cream, pasta, even though I don’t actually like ice cream or pasta. During that time, my taste preferences seemed to disappear. I constantly wanted to eat.
It was terrible — you knew you didn’t want more food and that it wasn’t bringing you any joy, but you couldn’t stop.
Q: Did you work with a psychologist?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Yes, but we didn’t touch on eating disorder issues because that wasn’t her specialty. One time, she said something like, “Why did you buy candy when you could have gotten apples or cabbage instead?” That’s when I realized I needed to stop working with her.
I started by seeing a nutritionist and getting some tests done. It turned out I had anemia —acute iron deficiency. That was months after I retired from skating, even though I was eating more than enough. So, I tried to establish a relatively balanced diet, incorporating soups, meat, and side dishes. My weight stopped increasing and settled, but at a number I didn’t like.
I tried to convince myself that it was okay, that my build was just naturally like this, and that I could embrace being natural. But eventually, something clicked: I didn’t want to look like this anymore. I disliked seeing myself in photos and videos, and I couldn’t skate to my full capacity.
That’s when I decided to go to the gym and train properly — not to starve myself again, but to approach it rationally.
Q: Are you happy with the results now?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Let’s be honest: you can’t completely get rid of an eating disorder; you can only achieve remission. But I’m happy that food and having an ideal, slim body are no longer my reason for living. People who are obsessed with their weight tend to be very boring, and I don’t want to be like that.
Am I satisfied with myself? Relatively. In the summer, I was in good shape, but now, because I’ve been so busy with school, I’ve trained less and gained a little weight. But it’s okay. I’m a healthy woman, not a doll or a robot. I can allow myself not to be perfect all the time.
I don’t think the extra kilos are very noticeable, although I fully understand what I want to achieve and keep the image of it in my mind.
Missing the Olympics and Failing at the World Championships
Q: You started taking figure skating seriously at the age of nine. By today’s standards, where children that age are already landing triple jumps, that seems incredible.
Stanislava Konstantinova: Well, I started skating at six, but it was just casual group lessons for health and fitness.
A big thank you goes to my coach, Valentina Mikhailovna Chebotareva, who saw something in me. Although, it wasn’t easy — by nine years old, some kids were already doing triple jumps, and the double axel, while I was barely managing a double salchow. Before Chebotareva, my parents took me for a trial with Alexei Urmanov. He just laughed and asked us not to come back.
But Valentina Mikhailovna accepted me on the very first day of training. Later, I asked her why. She said, “You were cute, had straight legs, and were artistic.” Her reasoning may seem simple, but I think it highlights an essential skill for a coach: seeing not just what a child can do now, but what they are capable of achieving in the future.
You can teach almost any child to jump a double axel sooner or later. But natural charisma and character aren’t something you can teach — they’re essential for succeeding in professional sports.
Q: What’s your current relationship with Chebotareva?
Stanislava Konstantinova: We didn’t talk right after I left her group. Of course, she was hurt —you raise a child, put so much effort into their development, and then they leave. I was upset, too, with unnecessary stubbornness and emotions I couldn’t handle.
But I eventually found the strength to reach out and talk to her, to apologize. After all, she did so much for me. Now everything between us is fine.
Q: You competed during the era of Evgenia Medvedeva and Alina Zagitova. What was that like?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Medvedeva was already on top, and Zagitova had just arrived. But back then, skaters weren’t doing quad jumps, so we all essentially had more or less the same technical content. It’s just that Valentina Mikhailovna and I were a bit too timid, perhaps… We worked hard, created interesting programs, but we lacked a bit of boldness.
It’s very difficult to compete when you’re from Saint Petersburg and not part of a star-studded coaching camp. I stayed at the junior level for quite a while, even though I wanted to move up to seniors. Competing against athletes like Lena Radionova and Anna Pogorilaya, I remember thinking: they were winning at juniors while I was still struggling to master triples.
But then, I stepped onto the same ice with them at senior nationals and even beat some of them. That was happiness!
Q: Did you ever think you could beat someone like Medvedeva?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Of course, I knew it was possible, but only if she made some major mistakes. Still, when you’re at a competition, you don’t think about that.
I went out onto the ice with the goal of skating a clean program. After all, what’s the point of beating someone if both of you make so many errors that you end up at the bottom of the rankings?
Also, when you’ve been behind everyone since childhood, constantly losing, no competitor becomes your “red flag.” Maybe that’s why I didn’t become an Olympic champion or a world champion —because enjoying skating and connecting with the audience was just as important to me as placements and medals.
I didn’t start my performance with my first jump — I started with my first gesture. I tried to find inspiration from that and let it carry me forward.
Coming Close to the Olympics
Q: You finished fourth in the qualifiers for the 2018 Olympic Games. Was it painful?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Strangely enough, no. That Russian Nationals was a turning point for me — I started the season as a junior, and for the first time, I realized that I could actually compete at the senior level for podium places. My goal for that event was simply to finish in the top six; I didn’t even consider qualifying for the Olympics. I objectively understood it was unrealistic.
Q: Why not?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Maria Sotskova had been skating steadily for two senior seasons, rarely making mistakes, and she had even switched coaches to Elena Buyanova — clearly with an eye on the Olympics. It was obvious that if she didn’t fail at Nationals, the spot would be hers.
At that championship, I skated such a poor short program that I immediately eliminated myself from contention. I landed a great combination but failed the flip at the end. What made it worse was that I had been in the best shape of my life leading up to it. I was so ashamed of that popped jump that I cried the entire evening.
Still, I promised myself: no matter what, I would deliver in the free skate.
I went out for morning practice before the free skate — angry, sleep-deprived — and fell hard on my hip. The pain was unbearable, I had to use ice packs, couldn’t put weight on my leg, and was crying again. During the warm-up before the program, nothing was going well. I remember Valentina Mikhailovna shouting at me furiously, but I was so out of it that I didn’t even hear her or take it in.
I approached the ice feeling like I was heading to an execution. But then, I looked up at my parents in the stands — and skated cleanly! When the music ended, I was sobbing. That was probably one of the most emotional moments of my career. To finish fourth after being 16th in the short program!
Some may say being an Olympic alternate isn’t much of an achievement. But for me, the important thing was overcoming myself.
Disappointment at the World Championships
Q: That same season, you competed at the World Championships and finished 19th — one of the worst results in history.
Stanislava Konstantinova: This topic is still hard for me to talk about. I was fairly well-prepared, but I developed sinusitis. I seemed to recover, performed well in test skates for the federation, but the flight to the competition completely destroyed me. On the plane, I had severe sinus pain, toothaches, one ear was completely deaf, and I had an excruciating headache.
Q: Was withdrawing an option in that situation?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Of course not. I wouldn’t have withdrawn even if I’d gone blind — this was “just” a headache.
The arena was huge, and the crowd was screaming. It was my first senior-level international competition — I hadn’t competed in Grand Prix events, the European Championships, or previous Worlds. Something just came over me; I don’t know how else to describe it. I’ve never rewatched that free skate. It was such a disaster that it took me two months to recover emotionally.
Q: Did you read what people wrote about you online afterward?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Of course, there were plenty of nasty comments. In some ways, they were warranted, but on the other hand — we’re not robots. I was 17 years old at the time, traveling to the Championships with my mom. I remember lying in my hotel room, sobbing. It was unbearable to think that I fought all season for the right to compete at Worlds, earned my spot with my performances, and then fell apart the moment I arrived.
Leaving Competitive Skating
Q: In early 2020, you joined the “Angels of Plushenko” academy, leaving Valentina Chebotareva, who raised you as an athlete, and your hometown. How did you make that decision?
Stanislava Konstantinova: At that point, I desperately wanted a change — new choreography, a new coach, new techniques.
My first thought was to join Alexei Nikolayevich Mishin’s camp, which meant I could stay in Saint Petersburg. But then, I reasoned that I was already 19, mature enough to adapt to life in a new city.
Q: Did the transition work out as you’d hoped?
Stanislava Konstantinova: During my first six months at Plushenko’s academy, I felt like a completely different athlete. With Valentina Mikhailovna, we worked at a comfortable pace.
Here, they told me, “Stasya, you’re not the big star here. Training starts at 7 a.m. — so be ready at 7 a.m. Skating three full free programs back-to-back? You do it. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done before or what you’ve won; here, everyone pushes their limits.”
Honestly, without that kind of pressure, I wouldn’t have recovered. Because almost immediately after transferring, I tore ligaments during a practice session.
Imagine this: a new coach, the pandemic begins, I can’t get an MRI, and I somehow managed to visit physiotherapy ten times. Yet I still went to training — two hours of ice time daily.
Q: What did you practice on ice with such a serious injury?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I couldn’t even step on my right leg. But I worked on back spirals, loops, spins, and choreography — all on my left leg. I also did off-ice training constantly: stretching, core exercises, back strengthening.
I had an overwhelming motivation to prove I could still do it. I’m deeply grateful to Evgeniy Viktorovich and Alexander Sergeyevich Volkov, who supported me through it all.
Pressure and Transition to a New Coach
Q: Volkov is said to be exceptionally skilled in teaching technique. Is that true?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Absolutely. He and Martine Dagenais (Volkov’s wife) pulled me through everything — injury recovery, technical issues, and even struggles with weight. They gave me so much individual attention, and as a result, I got into very decent shape.
At that time, Sasha Trusova and Alena Kostornaia were both training in Plushenko’s group. Maybe if I had been in peak condition, I could have trained with them, but after tearing my ligaments, skating alongside Sasha felt like losing before even starting. So, I requested to train with Volkov’s younger group, which also had older skaters like Katya Ryabova and Artyom Kovalev.
Q: Why didn’t all that effort lead to better results?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I did achieve good results but only at three competitions total. I think the mistake was peaking too early. By August, during closed test skates in Saint Petersburg, while others were still ramping up, I was already in top form.
But then issues started cropping up again. I lost too much weight, switched skates, and my technique fell apart. Judges didn’t score me generously. The biggest blow was the risk of not qualifying for the Russian Championships — the first time in my life I faced the possibility of missing the event entirely.
Everything piled on — grueling training sessions, the difficulties of living alone in Moscow, health issues. Plus, motivation waned; even in top form, I knew it would be hard to make it into the top three.
Final Retirement
Q: Why didn’t you retire then and instead switch to Victoria Butsaeva?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I wanted to quit. But I had friends in Butsaeva’s group who asked about me, and she said, “Tell her to call me.” After speaking with her, I was impressed. She competed successfully as an older skater, tall, elegant, with techniques taught by Viktor Kudryavtsev himself. I realized I wasn’t ready to leave figure skating entirely.
But Butsaeva’s training was grueling. For instance, warmups felt like full-on fitness sessions with speed drills, weights, and hurdles. Then, on ice, every training session had a strict plan. In Saint Petersburg, we spent 20 minutes just gliding, but here everything was fast-paced: five clean 3-3 combinations, then moving on to other elements.
For her team, those workloads were manageable, but I wasn’t in shape to keep up. While they gave me some leniency, the competitive spirit pushed me not to lag behind.
And it seemed like things were starting to work out, but then problems with my skates began, my leg started hurting, and my weight began fluctuating up and down. One day during a summer training camp in ‘Sirius,’ I could easily land triple-triple combinations and perform my free skate, but the next day, I couldn’t even land a simple solo triple.
Then my feet started hurting constantly. By that time, my working weight was no longer 55 kg but had climbed to 58–59 kg. Imagine the strain on your ligaments from doing a massive number of jumps at almost 60 kg. First, I missed two weeks to recover, got better, then got injured again, and eventually, I just realized: that’s it, I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Q: Did you decide to retire from figure skating suddenly, or was it a gradual process?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I thought about it for a long time. For many days, I forced myself just to leave the house and go to training. I’d put on my skates, and there’d be a lump in my throat. Victoria Yevgenevna (Butsaeva) couldn’t understand why I kept missing the start of practices. After weekends in Saint Petersburg, I’d sit on the train back to Moscow and cry, “Mom, I don’t want to go back. I can’t do this anymore.”
Q: And what did your mom say?
Stanislava Konstantinova: “Honey, if you’re sure, of course, don’t go. But you always wanted this, didn’t you? Wasn’t this your dream? Are you really going to give it all up?” She thought I could still pull myself together and achieve everything I’d wanted. She worried I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I stopped.
Training with Rafael Arutyunyan
Q: In 2018, you trained with Rafael Arutyunyan. What was he like?
Stanislava Konstantinova: We went there in the summer with Valentina Mikhailovna (Chebotareva) and Misha Kolyada. For me, it was my first season as a senior, and I was already struggling. My jumps were starting to deteriorate, and I was having difficulty finishing programs.
What struck me about Rafael Arutyunyan was how simple the exercises he gave us were. He taught us to jump using the same steps and basic positions. I listened to every word, tried to memorize everything, and even wrote down notes. He completely changed my jump entrances and practically restructured my lutz technique.
It was scary — my lutz had been relatively stable, but suddenly, I had “broken” the jump, and doing it felt wildly uncomfortable. But Arutyunyan was adamant: “Stasya, if you keep jumping the way you are, you’ll ruin your leg within a year.” My leg was already hurting, so I trusted him.
At first, nothing worked with the new technique. Especially when compared to Misha, who picked up new movements effortlessly. But Misha didn’t apply all of Arutyunyan’s recommendations — he’d follow some and dismiss others. I, on the other hand, was determined to do everything exactly as he said.
Within two months, I’d learned all the new jump entrances. I’m really proud of myself for that. And the new technique saved me many times afterward — before, I had a lot of failed jumps and popped elements, but after working with Arutyunyan, my jumps became more stable. With proper positioning, you naturally go up rather than lose balance, which made it easier to jump even in the second half of programs.
Short Careers in Figure Skating
Q: One criticism of current female skaters is that their careers are too short. You competed until you were 22, which is relatively long. Do you think it’s realistic for longer careers to become the norm given the new age eligibility rules?
Stanislava Konstantinova: It’s hard to say. I always thought I’d have a long career. If one competition didn’t go well, it was okay — I’d do better at the next. But in reality, you need to deliver results here and now. At some point, your body just can’t take it anymore, and you hit a “stop.”
I’m in favor of raising the age limit. I want girls to compete longer and not be considered “veterans” at 18 or 19. Personally, at that age, I felt like I had plenty of energy, as long as I wasn’t dealing with injuries.
Watching the Grand Prix Final, I felt so bad for Sonya Akatieva. It’s tough when, just a couple of years ago, you’re winning everything and landing multiple ultra-C elements, and then new stars emerge while you’re going through a rough patch. You need to approach your body and career with care and appreciation.
Love, Friendship, and Loneliness in Figure Skating
Q: Can you call yourself and Evgenia Medvedeva friends?
Stanislava Konstantinova: We’re not friends in the childhood sense of being inseparable, but we have a good relationship. I respect Zhenya a lot, and I hope she feels the same about me. We have plenty of shared topics and support each other. It’s what I’d call an ‘adult friendship.’
Q: You’ve vacationed together.
Stanislava Konstantinova: Yes, along with Nastya Skoptsova. But that was a while ago.
Q: Don’t you think figure skaters are often very lonely?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I think it’s the opposite. You’re constantly surrounded by peers, and there are so many opportunities to socialize before or after competitions. I never felt lonely, at least. Maybe it’s because I was older and naturally sociable. It’s never been hard for me to meet people or join a group.
The only thing missing was a personal life. While you’re in the sport, you can’t really allow yourself to have one.
Q: Seriously?
Stanislava Konstantinova: For me, it wasn’t something I could imagine.
Q: If female skaters start competing until 25, what then?
Stanislava Konstantinova: Maybe that’s why my career was so short, haha.
But seriously, when I was competing, I couldn’t even think about relationships. It distracted me too much. I wasn’t interested in partying or hanging out with someone if I knew it would directly affect my performance. I wasn’t willing to trade my passion for skating for fun.
And honestly, where would you find the time or energy for a proper relationship during your career? You’re entirely consumed with yourself — how much you slept, what you ate, whether you’re hurting or not. There’s no room left for someone else.
Q: Are you private about your personal life now?
Stanislava Konstantinova: I joke that the first photo of my boyfriend on social media will be from our wedding. Maybe I’ll change my mind eventually, but for now, I don’t want unnecessary attention. I just want love and something pure and bright.”
Related topics: Stanislava Konstantinova
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