Reflections of a Cirque du Soleil Artist — From Adrenaline to Awareness

When you perform every day in front of 2,500 people who stand up and applaud you, it’s like a powerful wave of energy. You feel alive, electric, unstoppable. For many years, that was my life — as a gymnast, and later, as a Cirque du Soleil artist. Every day brought adrenaline, pressure, and the reward of human connection. But what happens when the lights go off? When you leave the stage?

This question became deeply personal to me. After decades of chasing perfection, applause, and the next performance, I found myself in silence — no lights, no crowd, no show. And suddenly, the same adrenaline that once gave me life became something my body missed. It’s a strange emptiness, like you’ve lived in high speed for years and then someone pulls the brakes.

At first, I thought I wanted peace. I dreamed of staying in one place, sleeping in the same bed, having a routine. But when that became my reality, it felt… boring. I realized how hard it is for people who lived in intensity — athletes, performers, artists — to truly slow down. You start missing that “drug”: adrenaline, movement, energy, applause. It’s not about ego. It’s about rhythm. Your nervous system has been trained for years to live at full capacity.

I’ve met athletes who couldn’t handle that transition. Some escape through alcohol or distractions. Others reinvent themselves.

That's what I've been doing. Transforming. Step by step. Learning to live differently, building a new "stage" based on my sense of mission, energy, and meaning.

Transition from a Big Sports Career to a Different Role and Lifestyle

When I look at people who managed to move from fame to purpose, I admire them deeply. One of my close friends, Oleksiy Torokhtiy, Olympic weightlifter and champion, made this transition with incredible grace. He turned his athletic fame into a coaching empire — mentoring new generations while keeping his identity alive. His journey inspires me a lot because it shows how energy can be transformed, not lost.

And David Beckham — he’s another great example. He found ways to stay connected with his beloved sport, but in a different role. And in my opinion, he shines and influences the world even more now than he did during his active playing career.

But I also know a different story that touched me recently — Víctor Valdés, the famous goalkeeper of FC Barcelona. We met in 2012, when I was performing in Barcelona with Cirque du Soleil Alegría. He came to see the show, already one of the best goalkeepers in the world. He played for the best team in the world — alongside legends like Lionel Messi. I still remember the energy of that time — Valdés was at the top, admired by millions, a true symbol of excellence.

But I lost track of him for a while. Then this week, I saw the news that he had stepped away from public life. Valdés deleted all his social media accounts, saying he wanted to “turn off the lights” on his public persona and dedicate himself completely to his family. Now he lives somewhere in the mountains, doesn’t answer calls, and seems to enjoy a quiet, private life. Maybe he found peace. Maybe he doesn’t need the applause anymore. Nobody knows, because he doesn’t write books or share updates. But it made me think deeply — about this different kind of transition, from the bright spotlight to a quiet, healthy, and mindful silence.

The transition from a big sports career to a different role and lifestyle is one of the biggest challenges I’ve ever faced. It’s not just a story for others — it’s something I want to explore for the rest of my life. Every story of athletes reinventing themselves inspires me, and I’ll keep learning from each one I find.

Leadership Style Beyond Performance

In my years as an athlete and coach, I’ve seen many leadership styles. Some coaches inspire with humor and positivity. Others with professionalism and discipline. For me, it’s not about choosing one or another — it’s about balance. Some athletes need energy and laughter. Some need silence and structure. Great leadership is emotional intelligence — to feel the team, to adapt, to connect.

I believe two very different leaders can work perfectly together — if they share the same core values. You can have different styles, different tempers, but if your goals align and your respect is real, you can build something powerful. Because we all see the world through our own lens. When we combine perspectives, we see the full picture.

Old Traditions, New Science

In sports, there’s always a tension between old traditions and modern science. I think both matter. Science gives us structure, data, recovery, performance. But tradition gives us spirit. I still remember tying my shoes in the same way before every performance. Was it superstition? Maybe. But it helped me feel grounded and confident. If something works — even if it’s just mental — it deserves a place in training.

My Belief

After the stage lights fade, the real journey continues. Something new begins when the show ends. If you take everything you’ve learned from the stage — from competition, from discipline — and use it to create something meaningful for others, maybe it will have an even greater impact on the world.

That’s what KONONOV Club is about. It’s not just workouts or challenges — it’s a space where people transform. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s where we learn to channel our energy not only into performance, but into purpose.

I believe the true measure of strength is not how high you jump or how long you balance — but how long you can stay active in your own game.

I Believe in You. Just Do It 💪