Under an asbestos roof that rattles when the rain turns ambitious, Fitness Kochi exists in near seclusion. You don’t stumble upon it; you are led there, usually by whispers. This is powerlifting’s best-kept secret in the city, where iron speaks louder than geography, and obscurity has forged excellence.
Inside the modest facility, medals and trophies line up with almost military discipline, their gleam catching the light like quiet proof of rebellion against the odds.
Beena Mary Stephenson, a 60-year-old matron-like figure, watches closely; eyes sharp, voice calm, overseeing her ward grind through a bench-press rep that refuses to be easy. Earlier this month, this unlikely nerve centre briefly entered the national spotlight. Ten lifters from the gym travelled to the Bench Press Nationals in Faridabad, held from Jan 7 to 11. They returned heavier, not just with muscle, but with metal, claiming seven gold medals and two bronze.
At the heart of that success was Beena herself. Known simply as ‘Beena ma’am,’ she did what champions do when limits appear: She broke them.
Competing in the Masters 3 category, she lifted a personal best of 85kg to clinch gold, shattering her own record. For a moment, the small gym under an asbestos roof became a launch pad for national dominance. Here, far from the spotlight, greatness was never waiting to be discovered. It was already doing the heavy lifting.
“It all comes from passion,” Beena says. She opened the gym in 2018 and today trains about 20 students, ranging in age from 14 to 75.
The motley group includes Reeni Tharakan, 66, who drives from Cherthala to train at least three days a week. “On days she can’t make it, I take a state transport bus to her home and train her there,” Beena says.
Then there is 75-year-old Premachandran Nair, who rides his Bullet motorcycle from Piravom to attend sessions. “I may not have many students,” Beena explains, “but the ones who come are deeply committed.”
The Faridabad Nationals posed several challenges long before the first lift. Securing train tickets and accommodation was an ordeal. Once they arrived, the team had to contend with North India’s biting winter, conditions most had never experienced.
Temperatures dipped to as low as 3 degrees Celsius. “To perform under such circumstances speaks volumes about their resilience and temperament,” Beena says.
Former Air Force employee Johnny VJ recalls the journey. “The 10 representing Kerala from Ernakulam district were travelling in sleeper class, and their tickets were confirmed only at the last moment,” he says. “But as a parent of two teenage daughters, I wasn’t worried. I knew Beena ma’am would take care of everything.”
Johnny’s daughters, Jewel and Naomi, were among the competitors. Jewel won gold; Naomi finished seventh. “My daughters told me Beena ma’am didn’t sleep the entire train journey,” Johnny says. “She watched over her nine students like a mother.”
Beyond technical skill, he says, Beena understands human psychology. “That personal touch sets her apart from other coaches.”
At last year’s Nationals in Kozhikode, Beena rewrote the record books, setting new marks in squat, deadlift and bench press. The only lift that eluded her was her third bench-press attempt, where she managed 67.5kg. She returned stronger in Faridabad, breaking that record with a powerful 77.5kg lift. “You won’t find anyone like her,” Reeni says.
“To train relentlessly and keep excelling at that age is extraordinary.”
Yet Beena remains largely unknown outside powerlifting circles. “I hope Beena and her gym remain a secret,” says Mohan Peters, secretary of the Kerala Powerlifting Association. “She isn’t chasing numbers, only quality. Serious lifters will find her.”
The sport itself struggles with visibility and support. Athletes often travel in sleeper class to national championships, with little or no financial backing from state or national associations. While Alappuzha has long been the state’s powerlifting stronghold, Ernakulam and Kannur have gained prominence in recent years, largely due to Beena’s quiet perseverance.
A few lifters from the state have secured jobs with central government organizations following strong national performances, one of the few tangible rewards in the sport, but international competitions remain a distant dream for most, including Beena.
“We simply cannot afford it,” Beena says. A bench press event scheduled in Warsaw this March would cost nearly Rs 3 lakh per participant.
Johnny is unequivocal. “If Beena ma’am competed internationally, she would break every record.”
Sponsors, he notes, bring their own inherent complications. “They come with expectations and pressures that can distract athletes. Sometimes, competing with your own resources is more hassle-free.”
“Until just before the pandemic, the Sports Council of Kerala used to support powerlifters with their travel and accommodation. Since then, that funding has stopped,” Beena observes. Peters disagrees. “Only powerlifting competitions are recognised by the Sports Council of Kerala. Since the Faridabad event was a bench press event, it wasn’t recognized, and no grant was given. They didn’t even send an observer.”
Beena, however, calls for stronger and more systemic backing. “Everything has to begin at the grassroots, especially in schools,” she adds. As dusk settles, the iron inside Fitness Kochi keeps moving. Reps are counted, breaths are held, and belief is quietly reinforced. The world may not yet be watching, but in this hidden corner, strength is being built patiently, lift by lift.
Start a Conversation
Post comment