Russian culture weighs heavily at this gym
By Anonymous Monday, May 14, 2007, 01:10 AM EDT
BEAR OF A WORKOUT
Just a tough-looking Russian guy and some round things called kettlebells.
"Go ahead," Dmitri Sataev said, pointing to one. "Pick it up."
Right.
What's Russian for hernia? Or: What's Russian for, "Meet my personal injury attorney?"
Just when you thought you've heard of every conceivable method and machine made for working out, another one pops up. This one dates back, oh, about a century.
Meet Russian kettlebells.
They're solid, iron balls, with handles on them.
They can be heavy.
Really, really heavy.
The ones men use in competition weigh 70 pounds. In one routine, you are supposed to lift two - one in each hand - as many times as possible over your head within 10 minutes.
What fun.
Cultural exchange is normally wonderful, great, fantastic. Tacos are a fine example of this.
Kettlebells? The Iron Curtain, which kept Russia shrouded in mystery for so long, apparently did have some benefits after all.
Sataev, 45, is a charmer. He likes to show people just how shallow their conditioning is by making them hoist kettlebells.
"People come in here - big guys, too - they think they're in good shape," he bragged.
"In 20 seconds, they're whipped."
He'll even take it a step further and let his wife, Elana, show how it's done. She outperforms most men, he said.
The two are muscled, compact, broad. Put them on top of a wedding cake - the icing made from melted Power Bars.
And talk about a love story. They met 26 years ago, after Sataev got his teeth knocked out in a fight. He asked her for directions to a hospital. They talked for a bit. And three hours later they were married.
That has nothing to do with kettlebells, but what a cool story.
In 1987, Sataev, by then a world-class power lifter, defected to the United States when competing in New York. Elana soon followed. Now they are in San Diego, where they own a gym and run the Russian Kettlebell Academy.
The gym is two years old and boasts hundreds of clients, Sataev said. The kettlebell workout area is Spartan, but the facility also boasts pools, saunas, Olympic weight training and cardio machines.
Sataev strives to teach people the proper kettlebell-lifting techniques - particularly to protect the back, so nobody needs a stretcher. Novices use lower weights until they get the hang of it.
Kettlebells could be the next big thing in the exercise scene. There's already a place in the upscale San Diego community of La Jolla, called Iron Core, which also teaches kettlebell lifting.
But Iron Core seems a bit more, well, Americanized. The founder, Sarah Lurie, who discovered kettlebells through her years in the weight-training world, also produces slick DVDs on kettlebell workouts.
Lurie, who is not Russian, said Sataev's gym is a bit more intense than hers.
"We try to appeal to the masses," she said. "We have a much different atmosphere."
Sataev doesn't deny that. For $50 to $150 per hour, he trains average, everyday people for whatever fitness goals they desire. But he also helps people prepare for kettlebell competition, which is called Girevoy Sport. Kettlebells, in Russia, are called girya. The next world championship will be held in San Diego in November and hosted by Sataev's academy.
Sataev's clients swear by kettlebells. Tim Perram, an engineer, had never heard of kettlebells before walking into Sataev's gym. Now he's hooked.
"It's the toughest workout I've ever had," said Perram, 25.
Giving people the ultimate workout is what Sataev shoots for.
You can be strong, he said. But that alone won't do it - when it comes to kettlebells.
"You've got to have guts."
