They called her the Croatian queen of heights, a sky jumper, an athletic heroine, a woman who defies gravity, and the world watched her breathlessly for years as she used her 193-centimeter puma gazelle body to transform a jump into a perfect elegance of movement. She jumped 208 centimeters – the second best jump in the women’s history of this sport – won two world golds, silver and bronze from the Olympic Games, the Diamond League, European titles and the status of one of the greatest female athletes of all time. But what has always distinguished Blanka from others was not only the height of the flight but the emotion. Joy. Charisma. The way she danced after victories as if the stadium was not an arena, but an extension of her personality. For years, she lived under the spotlight of the world, between adrenaline, injuries, expectations and perfectionism, and then – quietly and without much announcement – she entered a completely new era of life. Today, she is an entrepreneur, a mother, a woman who talks about peace, body, vulnerability, faith and success without having to prove anything to anyone. We met Blanka as we have never seen her before: gentler, deeper, more relieved and perhaps more powerful than ever. This is not a story about sporting heights. This is the story of a woman who, after all the ups and downs, has truly come to her senses.
You grew up in a family where sport was the air you breathe – your father is a world-class decathlete, your mother is an athlete, training is a daily ritual. What was your personal, internal deal with that heritage? And is there a version of Blanka who wanted something completely different – something that wasn’t a high jump? What were you like as a girl and can you tell us about your upbringing?
– Sport, that is, movement, was our way of life. Every extracurricular activity had to do with some kind of sports challenge, whether it was racing, learning gymnastic elements, football, basketball, “little” tennis with plastic rackets, and even skiing during the winter holidays at Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Delnice. My brothers and I didn’t know any other way to spend our free time. In addition, we were constantly “outside”, in the neighborhood. We were the generation that mother calls home for dinner from the balcony. Even as a child, my dad took me to the stadium where he had his own group of athletes, and I trained with my peers. After training, we would definitely go for ice cream. On Sundays, dad and I would take a basketball and go around the basketball courts, looking for a duo to play against. I was only seven years old. But I felt like an equal teammate. By the way, I never liked to be indulged, nor to be excluded from the game because of my age and gender. I was quite a strong and determined character, I liked to win in everything. This was not a desirable feature when we played board games, but it helped me a lot on my sports journey. Because there is no athlete who likes to lose. Over time, however, I learned to reduce the experience in some less important competitions, although monopoly still remained a sore spot for me. Today, mom and dad live in Kaštela, where dad, in addition to the family house, also built his own sports center for working with athletes. In addition, he has his own garden, olive trees, fig trees, and he is building a special playhouse for his grandchildren. Children love to come there, and so do us elders. There is always something good to cook, and anyone who wants to can do a workout, which is still an indispensable part of our everyday life. From this perspective, the sacrifices I had to make on the way to achieving my sporting goals are really minor compared to everything that sport has given me. I traveled the world, made valuable acquaintances and friendships, experienced unforgettable emotions… But, above all, it brought me a sense of peace and satisfaction in the daily knowledge that once, in what I invested my whole self, I was the best in the world. Maybe, as a teenager, it was difficult for me to give up time and outings with the team or carefully watch every bite, but the responsibility and desire to develop my talent was always stronger. I did not perceive the physical and mental efforts as a sacrifice, but as an integral part of the journey that I truly enjoyed. When I put everything on the scale, I can say with certainty: it was worth it!
That adrenaline when you entered full stadiums and that incredible silence before the jump. How would you describe that feeling to us observers and mere mortals, and can anything replace it in life?
– The ability to concentrate is something that is learned and developed through experience. It took many years for me to learn to turn off the noise of stadiums and events around me and focus only on the bar, on the present moment, without the “what ifs”. When the competition was over and the emotions were drained, I wouldn’t even remember half of it. It was as if I was in another dimension. That’s the power of focus. Amazing, isn’t it? I remember the Continental Cup in 2010 in Split. I come out in front of a crowded Poljud. Everyone stands up and claps. Every hair on my body stands out, deeply moved, I think to myself – how am I going to jump now? And now, as I write this, I have goosebumps from head to toe. There were many such moments. But I loved them very much. Because I felt the support of the people who came to cheer me on and that, even though I am alone on the field, I am not jumping alone and I am not jumping just for myself. I met people on the street who told me their experiences while watching the competitions, their emotions. Even today, people remember… And that is exactly what is more important than all the gold medals. That togetherness that only sport can achieve. For complete strangers to connect because of a common desire, because of pride, because of the beauty of the game. For a long time I thought that nothing could do me. Conversion was the moment when, as I like to say, my soul remembered God. It seemed to me as if someone turned on the light and suddenly I could see everything clearly’ 58 ‘I thought for a long time that nothing could fill me like that feeling after a victory, adrenaline, celebration, sharing joy with the audience. And then I became a mother’ 59 Clothes: private property 60 61 fill like that feeling after a victory, adrenaline, celebration, sharing joy with the audience. And then I became a mother. And realized that the greatest things happen precisely in silence. In the tectonic disruptions of being, when everything shifts to permanently make room for another. And that second, unobtrusively and naturally, becomes the first. And everything makes sense. Sport has brought me a lasting sense of peace that I once gave my whole self to something I love and believe in and that it was returned to me in the same measure. And motherhood fills me with gratitude in such a way that I permanently feel immature in the face of the fact that every day I get back a hundred times more than I invested.
