Mud Month

It’s October here in Finland. Almost every day when I wake up, it’s wet.

That’s not surpising. The Finns don’t call October “Mud Month” for nothing.

This morning when I woke up, it was glistening outside. By the time I left, the sun was shining.

That’s a good thing, because I have gotten into some 15 minute cardio in the morning. It takes that long to walk to work, and I do it at a brisk pace.  

These days I am rocking my body trying to get into shape. Walk and lift. Lift and walk.

When the sun is out in these early October morns, the rays on the oranges and yellows of the trees make for a pretty picture. I’m not so lovely when I become a part of it, but the walk gets me in the zone for the coming day.

As I’m on the fly, I sometimes have to play some dodgeball. This morning it was a slow-walking student on my right, who I passed. Some mornings, it’s cyclists who whiz by me from behind, come close and scare the willies out of me.

My colleague tells me that’s normal. In fact, there has been some discussion in the media about these out of control bikers.

Maybe in the old days, I might have made a stink about these hell-on-wheel types. However, I’m trying to control my temper these days, so I don’t make a commotion. Why bother?

Coming over the hill and in sight of the front door of my building, I’m on fire. It’s a blazing finish as I come to the end of my jaunt. I’m not competing with anyone; I’m just trying to increase my metabolism.

In a previous tour of this place, I used to walk and pray. I still do a little praying on the way, but the flicks up to God are as fast as my pace. Oooh-Ahhh. Please, Lord.

I don’t want to let go of the fresh air, but I gotta go in. The office is ready to take me hostage, at least until the evening.

I head to the cafeteria, and my mind says,”Sell me some candy”. But that would defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it? I don’t need my metabolism to be that fast, nor do I need the fat.

But the caffeine. Ahh, the kahvia. That smell, even the stuff they dole out that will make your spoon stand up, is appealing.

I pass, though. I just had a cup at home. It’s water for me. I make the coffee odor go away without a word.

Friday can’t come soon enough. There’s a pounding in my head, but it isn’t from abstaining from the Joe.

Life’s a heavy hitter.  Move along, even when your hope is gone. Move along just to make it through.

 The All-American Rejects wrote those words. I can dig it. I am just the damned Yankee here-an American original reject myself.

The day comes to an end, and…

“Then there was rain. The sky wore a veil of gold and gray. At night there was the bright of the moon with me.  Time just floating…Oh rainy day come ’round. Sometimes I just want it to slow down.” (Cold Play)



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5 responses to “Mud Month

  1. Eddie Boylan

    Joy, Good News, fun, kiva, ihana, mukkava…
    Gloom despair and agony on me deep dark depression…… if it weren’t for bad luck I’d have no luck at all, Gloom despair and agony on me…
    one day to go before SETESOL-Richmond….What to do for the last class ??? Hum, Hum ???

  2. anonymous

    As a casual biker (very casual – no “proper” gear), I can tell you why I don’t always ring the bell on my bike.
    1. The bell sucks. It’s not the proper kind. It’s neither the kind you flick around with your thumb nor the kind with a spring inside. It’s a lousy small one that works by bending down and releasing a small piece of plastic. It says a dainty ping. No one hears it or recognizes as bike bell. It sucks.
    2. I have bad experiences with people not really getting the idea of the bell. It’s the polite equivalent of “Latua!“, not “look at me!” or something else.
    You see, some people feel the need to turn and see me first. I wouldn’t mind if they simultaneously didn’t block the opening that was there before I rang the bell. Some people puff themselves up to their maximum horizontal size while thinking they’re getting out of the way. Some start a virtual game of Pong using the whole width of the road, which, you can imagine, is really awesome for someone simply trying to get past.
    So, if there’s room it may be simpler or safer to just ride past without ringing.

    • It’s not the biker’s failure to ring a bell that bothers me.It is the biker who flies by me from behind and is on my shoulder even though there is plenty of room for them to give me some personal space.

  3. Eddie Boylan

    Body, mind and spirit

    could we speed up these slo, slo, slo news days?

    sending mo in xyzzzz mail 🙂

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