Produced by: Manoj Kumar
Vladimir Putin doesn’t even think about breakfast until midday—and when he does, it’s an elite, protein-packed feast sourced from handpicked Russian farms, featuring quail eggs and curiously timed coffee.
For up to two hours, Putin swims laps not just for fitness, but to untangle “Russia’s problems” in solitude—turning chlorinated waters into a geopolitical think tank.
Forget treadmills. Putin’s post-swim ritual is iron-heavy: relentless weightlifting sessions designed to sculpt strength and reinforce his rugged image to Russians—and the world.
Though he’s long past competition age, Putin still spars in judo, the sport that gave him discipline as a teen and a black belt that he proudly weaponizes in both diplomacy and photo ops.
He learned hockey in his 60s. Now he glides across rinks with security guards and pro athletes—part endurance drill, part propaganda stagecraft, all under freezing floodlights.
From snow rubdowns in Soviet childhood to today’s contrast baths, Putin’s cold exposure rituals are less wellness trend, more war-hardened resilience playbook.
Vodka might be a Russian stereotype, but Putin defies it—rarely drinking and avoiding hard liquor, attributing his robust health to restraint, not revelry.
No smartphone. No scrolling. Putin's rigid routine includes strict tech avoidance during work—echoing a Cold War-era mindset in an age of hyperconnectivity.
His day runs like clockwork: same meals, same workouts, same time. A lifestyle designed not for novelty but for control—a window into the psyche behind the power.