While Lakeside students were packing up their last class of the day, the air was electrifying at Tahoma High School. Anvi B. ’27, state javelin athlete, waits by the sidelines, jumping briskly to keep warm in the cool air, wearing her lucky outfit: black Lakeside sweatpants and a black North Face puffer jacket. Once Anvi gets called on hold, she de-layers down to her Lakeside track and field jersey and begins her final warm-up. She’s now on deck. A cheer bubbles from the field’s edge as a junior from Liberty High School shuffles down the runway and throws. The throw soars past her personal best, putting her in a winning position. But now, it’s Anvi’s turn. She strides up to the runway, pauses to take two deep breaths, while her brother is yelling from the sidelines. “We need a big one now,” echoes in her mind, as she draws her two-meter long orange javelin back, tip to her eye. Then, she dashes down the runway and flings her javelin into the cloudy gray skies.

Anvi’s javelin flies 38.63 meters, breaking her personal best by a whopping 1.6 meters and landing her silver. The only underclassman on the podium, she competed alongside a field of mostly upperclassmen at Washington’s 3A State Track Meet in the Women’s 600g 3A Javelin. Twenty-three and a half hours later, a different Bhatia would be stepping up to the same runway where Anvi competed: Manav B. ’25, in the Men’s 3A Javelin 800g. His javelin traveled 48.51 meters — four school buses in length — winning a sixth-place finish.

One would think these siblings come from a lineage of star track athletes, but as they say, it was classic sibling rivalry that got them into javelin.

Basketball, not track, runs in the Bhatia/Bahl family. As a seven-yearold, Anvi was also an avid basketball player. However, she’d always end up playing her older, stronger brother Manav. “Every time, I would lose, and seven-year-old Anvi did not like that,” Anvi recalls. That’s how she found and fell in love with track and field. Since “seven-year-old Anvi was not very fast,” throwing events ended up being her bread and butter.

Then their mom said to Manav one day “Manav, Anvi’s going [to track], you’re a little chubby, you can lose some weight.” Calorie-burning aside, he knew track helped his basketball career, so Manav decided to join. In fact, basketball was his main thing. “Until six months ago,” he states, somber.

Their siblinghood dynamic is well intertwined with javelin. One early autumn morning, before any students are on campus, on the second floor of the library, everything is dark, quiet, and empty, except for a lone hanging light. Anvi says to me, “If you think about just going to a field and throwing by yourself, that doesn’t sound super entertaining, right?” She adds that “with my brother, it’s so much more fun because […] someone’s always there, to see when you have a good throw or pick you up when you don’t.”

The javelin siblings have a game they used to play with each other. Their coach would set a mark down on a track, and they had to land javelin past the mark; the impact point became their new mark.

“We’re very competitive with each other,” they both echoed to me. “We’d keep inching forward, and it would be the biggest competition ever. [Anvi] rarely won, but when she did, she’d always go home and brag about it,” Manav laughs. “Those are bigger wins than the track meets that we go to.”

Back to the present, Manav explains that track was never his main sport: he was a competitive basketball player since 2nd grade. Mix the intensity of a high-level sports with injuries, and things just didn’t work out for him. But luckily, he admits, he had track and field to fall back on.

Perhaps the track was an upgrade. Anvi describes that Manav is “so much more passionate” about track. “It’s a super primal thing,” Manav says. “It’s really fun to see [the javelin] fly far.” He also adores the accountability and individuality of the sport. “It’s about you performing every time,” he explains. “The technique and satisfaction that comes with a great throw is an unbeatable feeling.”

Through javelin, the siblings have grown closer in ways they weren’t before they got into track — for example, hopping fences at practice (a shortcut, not trespassing, Manav explains). “I always say we literally do everything together,” Manav emphasizes. “No matter when, at any point in life, if I need to call [Anvi] or I need something, she’ll always be there, and I’ll always be there for her.”

With each other cheering from the sidelines, the pair breezed through districts and qualified for the 3A State Championship Meet.

Anvi remembers that the 75-minute minibus drive to State was mellow. Her favorite memory? Photo Roulette. But that relaxed vibe melted into nervousness when her driver, Lakeside’s track coach, announced that they were ten minutes away. As she set her foot down on the makeshift parking lot: an expansive grass field, the exhilarating thrum of the packed stadium hit. “Everyone’s cheering. Everyone’s screaming,” she recalls.

The nerves didn’t last long. After Anvi checked in her javelin, claimed her watermelon green wristband, and reviewed her bib, her instincts clicked in. “As soon as you start warming up, you listen to your music, it just feels like any other track meet. Yes, you know it’s a bigger stage, but at the end of the day, it’s a runway. It’s the same job.” Soon, her event gets called and she lines up by the sidelines, awaiting her toss.

Manav is excited to keep throwing for Amherst College. “The big thing in my college decision was where I was going to enjoy throwing the most,” he says. The downside to college, though, is leaving his little sister. “It’s going to be very different without him,” Anvi comments. “I’m really happy for him, but it’s also going to be really different for me.” In classic sibling fashion, Manav points out that Anvi can always stay in his dorm.

Looking back on all these years though, one more question remains: does Manav feel bad for not going easy on his sister when they were younger and sparking the chain reaction that led them to who they are today? Not really.

“She’s honestly tough as nails,” he firmly states. “I take so much pride in watching her. I’m at all her games, all her meets and stuff […] She’s a beast, too.”

Anvi pitches in “I’m glad he did it. It made me better. He won’t take it easy on me in anything.”

“She hasn’t even seen me go hard yet,” Manav replies with a laugh.