There was a real cult of sport in the USSR. In courtyards, athletes performed Giant (on the horizontal bar) on horizontal bars, women learned aerobics from television in their apartments, and factories always had workplace gymnastics...

The image of the Soviet citizen was inextricably linked to sports. Sports were present in every courtyard, in every home, surviving in basements and flourishing on sports fields. In the USSR, almost every courtyard had a “hockey rink,” which turned into a soccer field in the summer, and horizontal bars and parallel bars were found almost everywhere.

On the other hand, bodybuilding enthusiasts, or as it was then called, athletics enthusiasts, had to break into basements and set up underground weight rooms there. On the surface, ideologically correct athletes did pull-ups on the horizontal bar and did sit-ups on the wall bars. But in the basements, the first Soviet bodybuilders “worked out” with homemade barbells, dumbbells, and other exercise equipment made from whatever they could find.

One way or another, sports were an integral part of the Soviet citizen's consciousness. This was due to widespread propaganda by the Soviet Union. Posters encouraging people to participate in sports looked down on workers doing calisthenics. The day began with the radio program “Morning Exercise,” and schoolchildren were forced to pass the GTO standards. And in general, what kind of man are you if you can't do a “Giant” on the horizontal bar?

Workplace calisthenics, like many things in the USSR, was a voluntary-compulsory activity. All workers, from milkmaids to welders, were forced to squat and run on the spot to commands coming from a radio.

The “five-minute cheerfulness break” killed several birds with one stone. First, people became healthier and more resilient. Second, if workers were given time to stretch their legs, there would be fewer defects in their work. And, of course, as Stalin said, “it is necessary to raise a new generation of workers capable of defending the country with their lives from enemy attacks.”

After the publication in 1956 of the Presidium of the All-Union Central Council of Trade Unions' resolution “On the Organization of Workout Programs at Enterprises and Institutions,” everyone was required to participate in sports, regardless of their desire to do so.

They approached the issue seriously. Doctors examined the premises for suitability for gymnastics—they studied the level of gas contamination and the efficiency of ventilation, methodological recommendations for industrial gymnastics were formed, and the active part of the workers published wall newspapers.

Before lunch or at the end of the shift, each enterprise held a 5-10 minute exercise session. Workers performed physical exercises without leaving their machines, under the careful guidance of public instructors. Local authorities also got involved. Here is what a secret instruction on conducting workplace gymnastics at the Yauza Radio Technical Institute says: “To avoid damaging the stucco, instead of running in place, perform the exercise ‘running in place’ without using your legs.” In the mid-1980s, workplace gymnastics fell out of favor. On the one hand, the authorities began to turn a blind eye to it, and on the other, it seemed outdated after rhythmic gymnastics appeared on television.

Rhythmic gymnastics first appeared on television in 1984, and according to Alexander Ivanitsky, editor-in-chief of the Central Television's main sports program editorial office, it “failed miserably.” Soviet citizens were not ready for change. For half a century, the same voice had been leading the nation in exercise at the same time every day, and the people were satisfied. The first broadcast was met with a barrage of angry letters from pensioners accusing it of “mimicking” and imitating the West.

But a little later, the creators of this program stumbled upon a videotape with recordings of lessons taught by the famous American actress Jane Fonda. They suddenly realized that they had recently aired practically the same thing.

After refocusing on a female audience and changing its broadcast time, the program returned to television screens. It is worth noting that the Soviet program had a very strong methodological basis. The program was developed by professionals from the All-Union Scientific Research Institute of Physical Culture (VNIIFK), and the show was hosted by distinguished Soviet athletes. Rhythmic gymnastics, which was increasingly referred to as aerobics in the Western manner, swept the country. Beautiful women set to rhythmic music encouraged viewers to repeat their movements. Demand for gymnastic leotards, neon leggings, and woolen leg warmers immediately skyrocketed. The latter even became part of everyday fashion, worn anytime, anywhere.

The music featured in the episodes was similar in style to synth-pop. In 1984, Melodiya released a record called Rhythmic Gymnastics with music and the voice of the announcer who led the exercises. The popularity of aerobics prompted the band Display to record the cult song “The Joy of Movement.” Later, rhythmic gymnastics faded away, replaced by other types of aerobics.

With the rise of active sports in the USSR, a lot of sports equipment was produced for home use. Even now, many people can find a Gracia fitness disc or a metal hula hoop in their garage.

The ideologically correct name for it is a hoop, which is what sports announcers called it. In the 1960s, everyone was spinning hoops. It became especially widespread after the release of the film Welcome, or No Trespassing. After the scene where the heroine of the film deftly spins a hula hoop, the metal ring became the dream of every Soviet girl.

The name came from English: “hula” is a Hawaiian dance based on swaying the hips, and “hoop” is a hoop.

Hula hoops were everywhere: at circus performances, at home in front of the TV, and in city courtyards. Women saw the iron hoop as the solution to all their figure-related problems. Plastic versions of the hula hoop appeared, even with a ribbed inner side. But some people said that the hoop loosened the bones and led to kidney disease. Over time, the metal circle migrated to the balcony or behind the wardrobe, and the particularly skilled turned it into a television antenna.

Another piece of exercise equipment designed for body shaping was the health disc, also known as “Grace.” It consisted of two discs that were attached to a single axis and could rotate relative to each other.

Women spun around while standing on the disc. Children sat on the disc and spun each other around until their heads spun. Men found the most original use for it: they placed a TV on the disc and could easily turn the screen in any direction.

As with the hoop and hula hoop, the gymnastic roller became popular among women. Men exercised more outdoors; cities had many outdoor exercise machines, horizontal bars, and gymnastic rings. Women, on the other hand, exercised at home, squeezing in a few minutes between household chores. However, only trained people could master the roller, and few could manage even 10 repetitions.

An exclusively male exercise device, the expander, came in several varieties during the Soviet era. First, there was the hand expander, which all men used to squeeze. These also came in different types, the most common being a regular black or blue rubber “donut.”

Each generation used it in its own way. Grown men stretched their arms behind the wheel while waiting at traffic lights, or exercised at home, staring pensively at the television. Young people, especially athletes, squeezed rubber “donuts” everywhere: girls had to see how athletic they were. But boys, tired of squeezing the expander with all their might, realized that they could just as well play soccer in the school hallway. There were different types of hand expanders—the rubber ones mentioned earlier, plastic ones, and even metal ones. There were also hybrids—1-2 kg dumbbells divided in the middle by springs, a kind of dumbbell-expander.

Secondly, expanders were stretchable, and the main users were older men. Younger people went to sports clubs, while the older generation exercised at home or in the yard. Wearing track pants and a T-shirt tucked into them, the men stretched the equipment, alternating between behind their backs and in front of their chests. Expanders are dangerous things; they can slip out of your hands and injure someone in your household, and they have to be kept away from children. But the most unpleasant thing was that the springs, like a hellish epilator, pulled out the hair on the athletes' necks and the backs of their heads.

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Artemus Vazhui