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There are sporting records that leave us amazed, and others that make us reflect on life.Yesterday, October 8, 2026, at the World Freediving Championships in Cyprus, Alexey Molchanov descended to a depth of 137 metres on a single breath, using a monofin. It was a new world record. But meeting him after he surfaced reminded me of something far more important than a sporting achievement.

It reminded me of my mother.

When his mother, Natalia Molchanova, disappeared in 2015, many believed Alexey would give up freediving. It was difficult to imagine how he could continue pursuing a sport that had connected him so deeply with her. Yet exactly the opposite happened.

Alexey continued diving, breaking records, teaching others, and developing the educational system his mother had established. He also built his own brand of freediving equipment, now used by divers around the world.

Perhaps this was his way of keeping his mother alive. Not only in his memories, but in everything he does.

What Do Our Mothers Leave Behind?

As I spoke with Alexey after his record-breaking dive, I found myself thinking about how much we owe our parents, often without even realising it.

My mother, too, passed away far too early.

I believe she would be proud if she could see everything I have accomplished in medicine. In fact, I never seriously considered any other profession. Growing up beside her, I somehow always assumed I would become a doctor.

But medicine was not the only thing she passed on to me.

She taught me to love brisk walking, to read, and to remain curious. Even the fact that I am writing these words today probably has much more to do with her than I once understood.

That is why I believe our parents do not shape us only while they are alive. They continue to live through our habits, our choices, and the way we see the world.

Watching Alexey, I thought that perhaps this was the most important legacy Natalia had left her son.

Natalia Molchanova – The Woman Who Changed Freediving

Natalia Molchanova was not simply Alexey’s mother. She was one of the greatest athletes in the history of freediving.

She only began seriously pursuing the sport around the age of forty. By the time of her disappearance in 2015, at the age of 53, she had won 23 world championship titles and set an astonishing 41 world records.

She was the first woman to dive beyond 100 metres using a monofin and the first woman to hold her breath for more than nine minutes – an incredible 9 minutes and 2 seconds.

But Natalia’s greatness was not measured by records alone.

She systematised training methods, developed freediving education, and demonstrated that freediving was not merely a contest of endurance, but a complex skill in which physiology, technique, mental preparation, and understanding one’s own body play equally important roles.

Alexey grew up with a mother like that.

It is difficult to imagine a better teacher.

The Son Who Continued Where His Mother Left Off

Alexey Molchanov is now one of the most successful freedivers in history.

His 137-metre dive in Cyprus marked the 46th world record of his career.

To appreciate what this means, imagine someone taking a single breath at the surface, descending to a depth greater than the height of many skyscrapers, turning around, and returning along the same route – without taking another breath.

And he must do all of this while maintaining precise control over his movements, oxygen consumption, pressure equalisation, and the physiological limits of his body.

As a sports medicine physician, I understand just how complex such an effort is. Yet what fascinates me most is not merely Alexey’s physiological ability, but the calmness with which he approaches something that most people would consider unimaginable.

His achievements are not limited to warm tropical seas.

In March 2026, he descended 91 metres beneath the ice of Lake Baikal, in water at approximately two degrees Celsius. Above the surface, the temperature was minus 23 degrees.

Ice diving presents additional dangers. The cold, restricted access to the surface, and the need for flawless orientation make such an undertaking particularly demanding.

When I read about that record, I thought that, in some way, his mother was with him then, too.

Fourteen Years for Twelve Metres

After Alexey broke the world record, I had the opportunity to speak with him briefly.

He was smiling, relaxed, and surprisingly modest for someone who had just accomplished something no one had ever done before.

At one point, we remarked that freediving is an unusual sport because world records seem to be broken all the time.

Alexey looked at us and replied:

“It took me fourteen years to improve my own record by twelve metres.”

Only later did I fully appreciate the significance of that statement.

In 2012, he had dived to a depth of 125 metres. Now, fourteen years later, he had reached 137 metres.

Twelve metres in fourteen years.

That is less than one metre per year.

Of course, records do not improve at a constant rate, but behind those twelve metres lie thousands of hours of training, countless dives, continuous refinement of technique, and an ever-deeper understanding of the physiological limits of the human body.

And probably many sacrifices we will never know about.

Our conversation then moved in a completely different direction.

We asked him how well known he was in Russia. He said he was recognised, but nowhere near as famous as, for example, the country’s leading tennis players.

I wondered whether the news of his world record would appear on Russia’s evening television news.

“Maybe,” he replied.

Another Russian competitor, whom we spoke with later, was much more definite. He was convinced it would not.

I found myself thinking how extraordinary it was that a man who had set 46 world records was not a global sporting superstar.

Had he achieved similar dominance in tennis, football, or athletics, hundreds of millions of people would probably know his name. His achievements would make headlines, and every new record would become a major media event.

But Alexey competes in a sport that does not attract that kind of audience.

We also asked him where he lived. He explained that Moscow was officially his home, but that he spent no more than four months a year there.

The rest of the time, he travels around the world. He often stays in Miami and Dubai, but his sport takes him wherever the conditions for freediving are favourable.

Throughout our conversation, I never once had the impression that I was standing before someone who expected special admiration or recognition.

Perhaps that was what impressed me most.

His achievements are extraordinary, yet he speaks about them simply, without any need to exaggerate their significance.

And I found myself thinking that popularity and sporting greatness are not the same thing.

Sometimes the greatest achievements take place far from the spotlight.

And perhaps that is precisely why the people who accomplish them manage to preserve something that many famous athletes eventually lose – the ability to remain simply who they are.

More Than an Athlete

Alexey did not simply continue breaking records. He also carried forward Natalia’s belief that knowledge about freediving should be shared with others.

Today, the Molchanovs educational system is used by freedivers around the world. His name appears on monofins, wetsuits, and other equipment, but what matters more is the teaching methodology behind that name – a methodology that his mother began developing.

In many ways, I consider this perhaps his greatest achievement.

One day, someone will break his records. That is the nature of sport.

But the knowledge we pass on to others can endure much longer.

Today, Alexey also faces an exceptional rival in Croatian freediver Petar Klovar, whose achievements demonstrate that the limits of this sport continue to be pushed further.

Their rivalry makes freediving even more exciting. After all, an athlete’s greatness becomes even more apparent when someone else is there to challenge him to become better.

His Mother Would Be Proud

Perhaps it is unusual for a portrait of a great athlete to turn into a personal memory of one’s mother.

But that is exactly what happened to me.

I was watching a man who had descended 137 metres into the depths of the sea, while thinking about how deeply the people we have loved remain within us.

Natalia Molchanova disappeared at sea in 2015. But something of her lives on in every one of Alexey’s dives, in every student who masters a technique she helped develop, and in every new record.

And my mother?

She probably lives on in my medical career, my books, my brisk walks, and these very lines I am writing.

I do not know whether our mothers can really see us.

But if things are as we would like to believe, then I know that yesterday, somewhere, two mothers were proud.

One because of 137 metres beneath the surface.

The other because, in that dive, I recognised something far more important than a world record.

♥

Postoje sportski rekordi koji nas zadive i oni koji nas navedu da razmišljamo o životu. Aleksej Molčanov je juče, 8. oktobra 2026. godine, na Svetskom prvenstvu u ronjenju na dah na Kipru zaronio do 137 metara dubine, koristeći samo jedan udah i monoperaje. Bio je to novi svetski rekord. Ali mene je susret s njim nakon izrona podsetio na nešto mnogo važnije od sportskog rezultata. Podsetio me je na mamu.

Kada je 2015. godine nestala njegova majka Natalija Molčanova, mnogi su verovali da će Aleksej prestati da roni. Bilo je teško zamisliti kako će nastaviti da se bavi sportom koji ga je toliko povezivao s njom. Međutim, dogodilo se upravo suprotno.

Aleksej je nastavio da roni, da obara rekorde, da podučava druge i razvija sistem edukacije koji je njegova majka započela. Razvio je i sopstveni brend ronilačke opreme, koji danas koriste ronioci širom sveta.

Možda je upravo to bio njegov način da sačuva majku. Ne samo u sećanju, već u svemu što radi.

Šta nam ostaje od naših majki?

Dok sam razgovarao s Aleksejem nakon njegovog rekordnog zarona, razmišljao sam o tome koliko toga u životu dugujemo roditeljima, a da toga često nismo ni svesni.

I moja mama je otišla prerano.

Verujem da bi bila ponosna kada bi mogla da vidi šta sam sve uradio u medicini. Zapravo, nikada nisam ozbiljno razmišljao o nekom drugom pozivu. Odrastajući pored nje, nekako sam podrazumevao da ću biti lekar.

Ali nije samo medicina ono što mi je ostavila.

Od nje sam naučio da volim brzo hodanje, da čitam, da budem radoznao. Verovatno i ovo što danas pišem ima mnogo više veze s njom nego što sam ranije razumeo.

Zato mi se čini da nas roditelji ne oblikuju samo dok su živi. Oni nastavljaju da žive u našim navikama, izborima i načinu na koji gledamo svet. Kada sam posmatrao Alekseja, pomislio sam da je možda upravo to najvažnije nasleđe koje je Natalija ostavila svom sinu.

Natalija Molčanova – žena koja je promenila ronjenje na dah

Natalija Molčanova nije bila samo Aleksejeva majka. Bila je jedna od najvećih sportistkinja u istoriji ronjenja na dah.

Ozbiljno je počela da se bavi ovim sportom tek oko četrdesete godine života. Do svog nestanka 2015. godine, u 53. godini, osvojila je 23 titule svetske prvakinje i postavila 41 svetski rekord.

Bila je prva žena koja je zaronila dublje od 100 metara koristeći monoperaje i prva koja je zadržala dah duže od devet minuta – neverovatnih 9 minuta i 2 sekunde.

Ali Natalijina veličina nije bila samo u rekordima.

Ona je sistematizovala metodiku treninga, razvijala obrazovanje ronilaca i pokazala da ronjenje na dah nije samo takmičenje u izdržljivosti, već složena veština u kojoj fiziologija, tehnika, mentalna priprema i poznavanje sopstvenog tela imaju podjednako važnu ulogu.

Aleksej je odrastao uz takvu majku. Teško je zamisliti boljeg učitelja.

Sin koji je nastavio tamo gde je majka stala

Aleksej Molčanov je danas jedan od najuspešnijih ronilaca na dah u istoriji.

Njegov zaron od 137 metara na Kipru predstavlja 46. svetski rekord u njegovoj karijeri.

Da bismo razumeli šta to znači, treba zamisliti čoveka koji na površini udahne, zaroni do dubine veće od visine mnogih nebodera, okrene se i vrati istim putem, bez novog udaha.

I sve to mora da uradi uz preciznu kontrolu pokreta, potrošnje kiseonika, izjednačavanja pritiska i sopstvenih fizioloških granica.

Kao lekar sportske medicine, znam koliko je takav napor složen. Ali ono što me posebno fascinira nije samo fiziološka sposobnost, već mirnoća sa kojom Aleksej pristupa onome što bi većini ljudi izgledalo nezamislivo.

Njegovi uspesi nisu ograničeni na topla mora. U martu 2026. godine zaronio je 91 metar ispod leda Bajkalskog jezera, u vodi temperature oko dva stepena Celzijusa. Na površini je bilo minus 23 stepena. Ronjenje pod ledom donosi dodatne opasnosti. Hladnoća, ograničen pristup površini i potreba za savršenom orijentacijom čine takav poduhvat posebno zahtevnim. Kada sam pročitao vest o tom rekordu, pomislio sam da je i tada njegova mama, na neki način, bila s njim.

Četrnaest godina za dvanaest metara

Posle obaranja svetskog rekorda imao sam priliku da kratko razgovaram sa Aleksejem. Bio je nasmejan, opušten i iznenađujuće skroman za čoveka koji je upravo uradio nešto što niko pre njega nije uspeo.

U jednom trenutku prokomentarisali smo kako je ronjenje na dah neobičan sport, jer se čini da se svetski rekordi stalno obaraju.

Aleksej nas je pogledao i odgovorio: „Trebalo mi je četrnaest godina da svoj rekord popravim za dvanaest metara.“

Tek kasnije sam shvatio koliko je ta rečenica bila važna. Godine 2012. zaronio je 125 metara duboko, a sada, četrnaest godina kasnije, stigao do 137 metara.

Dvanaest metara za četrnaest godina.

To je manje od jednog metra godišnje. Naravno, rekordi nisu rasli ravnomerno, ali iza tih dvanaest metara stoje hiljade sati treninga, bezbroj zarona, usavršavanje tehnike i sve bolje razumevanje fizioloških granica ljudskog organizma.Verovatno i mnogo odricanja o kojima nikada nećemo saznati. Razgovor je zatim krenuo u sasvim drugom pravcu.

Pitali smo ga koliko je poznat u Rusiji. Rekao je da jeste poznat, ali ni približno koliko, recimo, najbolji teniseri.

Zanimalo me je da li će se vest o njegovom svetskom rekordu pojaviti u večernjim televizijskim vestima u Rusiji.

„Možda“, odgovorio je.

Drugi ruski takmičar, s kojim smo kasnije razgovarali, bio je mnogo određeniji. Smatrao je da se to sigurno neće dogoditi.

Razmišljao sam koliko je neobično što čovek koji je 46 puta postavljao svetske rekorde nije planetarna sportska zvezda. Da je sličnu dominaciju ostvario u tenisu, fudbalu ili atletici, verovatno bi ga poznavale stotine miliona ljudi. Njegovi rezultati bili bi na naslovnim stranama, a svaki novi rekord velika medijska vest. Ali Aleksej se bavi sportom koji nema takvu publiku.

Pitali smo ga i gde živi. Rekao je da je zvanično u Moskvi, ali da tamo provodi najviše četiri meseca godišnje. Ostatak vremena putuje po svetu. Često boravi u Majamiju i Dubaiju, ali ga zapravo njegov sport vodi svuda gde postoje uslovi za ronjenje.

I dok smo razgovarali, nijednog trenutka nisam imao utisak da stoji ispred nas čovek koji očekuje posebno divljenje ili priznanje.

Možda me je upravo to najviše impresioniralo. Njegovi rezultati su izuzetni, ali on o njima govori jednostavno, bez potrebe da ih dodatno uveličava. I pomislio sam da popularnost i sportska veličina nisu isto. Nekada najveća dostignuća ostaju izvan svetlosti reflektora.

A možda upravo zbog toga ljudi koji ih postižu uspevaju da sačuvaju nešto što mnogi slavni sportisti vremenom izgube – mogućnost da budu jednostavno ono što jesu.

Više od sportiste

Aleksej nije samo nastavio da obara rekorde. Nastavio je i Natalijinu ideju da znanje o ronjenju na dah treba prenositi drugima.

Sistem edukacije Molchanovs danas koriste ronioci širom sveta. Njegovo ime nalazi se na monoperajima, odelima i drugoj opremi, ali je važnije što se iza tog imena nalazi metodologija učenja koju je započela njegova majka.

U tome vidim možda i njegov najveći uspeh.

Rekord će jednog dana neko oboriti. Tako funkcioniše sport. Ali znanje koje prenesemo drugima može trajati mnogo duže.

Aleksej danas ima i izuzetnog konkurenta, hrvatskog ronioca Petra Klovara, čiji rezultati pokazuju da se granice ovog sporta neprestano pomeraju.

Njihovo rivalstvo čini ronjenje na dah još zanimljivijim. Jer veličina jednog sportiste postaje još vidljivija kada pored sebe ima nekoga ko ga tera da bude bolji.

Mama bi bila ponosna

Možda nije uobičajeno da se portret jednog velikog sportiste pretvori u lično sećanje na majku. Ali meni se upravo to dogodilo.

Posmatrao sam čoveka koji je zaronio 137 metara duboko, a razmišljao o tome koliko duboko u nama ostaju ljudi koje smo voleli.

Natalija Molčanova je nestala u moru 2015. godine. Ali nešto od nje ostalo je u svakom Aleksejevom zaronu, u svakom učeniku koji savlada tehniku koju je razvijala, u svakom novom rekordu.

A moja mama?

Ona je, verovatno, ostala u mojoj medicini, mojim knjigama, mom brzom hodu i ovim redovima koje pišem.

Ne znam da li nas naše majke zaista gledaju.

Ali ako je onako kako volimo da verujemo, onda znam da su juče, negde, dve mame bile ponosne.

Jedna zbog 137 metara dubine.

Druga zbog toga što sam u tom zaronu prepoznao nešto mnogo važnije od rekorda.

 

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