The Finnish Line

The institute, when it finally comes into view, is a welcome sight. Timo Vuorimaa and Tommy Ekblom, two track coaches, are waiting for me beside a potted palm in the lobby of the administration building.

"We're fairly unique for this far north," says Vuorimaa. The sprawling complex is both a year-round fitness resort and a practice facility for Finnish Olympic teams. The golf course is buried under two feet of snow, but the indoor tennis courts, swimming pools and riding stables are open; so is a training center where sisu is tested.

Vuorimaa proposes lunch, and on the way to the cafeteria we stop at a statue of the institute's founder, Lauri "Tahko" Pihkala.

This looks like a man with sisu. Ekblom agrees. Pihkala's nickname, he says, means "grindstone" in Finnish.

Over herring and rye crackers washed down by several rounds of coffee, I learn that Pihkala also is the father of Finnish baseball. The sports-minded Finn traveled to the United States early in the last century, got hooked on the national pastime and brought it back to Finland, where it's called pesapallo.

Curious to know how the Finnish version compares to the American game, Ekblom draws a pesapallo playing field on a napkin. Pihkala obviously took some liberties with the traditional baseball diamond. First base is where third base should be; second base is where first base belongs; and third base is in left field. The terminology is different, too. A strike is known as "a wound," and when you're out, "you're dead."

Ekblom suspects the emergency-room expressions may have something to do with the Finnish siege mentality. Pesapallo, he says, is a rural game in Finland, played during the spring and summer months in small towns, where fans yell and scream and drink lots of beer. He's happy to hear that's what fans in America do, too.

Baseball season seems a long way off as we trudge through the snow to the training center, and I'm handed over to Matti Heikkila, head of physiological testing.

According to Heikkila, Finns are physical fitness nuts. At an early age, children are introduced to rock climbing, hiking and other activities that many will pursue throughout their lives. Like health care and education, athletics are seen as a necessary component of Finnish life. Every February there's a one-week national holiday when Finns of all ages take part in a 50-mile ski race. Thousands participate, and, in a countrywide demonstration of sisu, most cross the finish line.

Given the interest in endurance sports, it makes sense that Finnish trainers would know something about how to prepare. Heikkila says sisu plays a definite role, but then so do dedication, commitment and all the other qualities coaches everywhere talk about.

Right now he's putting a group of business executives through their paces. Companies in Finland regularly allow their employees time away from the office to take part in three-day workout retreats. Six men and women are riding stationary bikes, while Heikkila sits behind a computer monitoring their vital signs. Later, he has them scheduled for gym exercises and outdoor activities. This time of year most people hit the golf course, which has been converted to a Nordic ski track. At the end of the program each person will get a complete record of his or her progress.

When I tell Heikkila that, earlier in the day, I walked all the way from the bus stop, he nods without comment. Finns frown on bragging about personal accomplishments, and an hour's walk in a snowstorm, by Finnish standards, doesn't qualify as an accomplishment anyway.