I’ve been going to Kisahalli for 32 years. That is a huge stretch of physical culture tied to a place. The longest gap was six years, when I lived in Tampere and Tallinn.
In 1993 Saku took up boxing and Ari and I went with him to spar. Saku took it as an opportunity to display their growing strength. We complimented each other between rounds. Once, I wore socks because I didn’t own sports shoes. An older boxer who regularly coached younger, taunted me that I came from a rich family, because I could afford broken socks.
Around 1997 we went there both with school sports classes and with friends. I remember loading a leg press far beyond what I should. Four days after Anu asked why I didn’t get out of the car… I had to wait for them to go before crawling out.
After conscript service around 2000, I returned to Kisis with physical activity forced to daily routine. I remember being afraid that, even out of uniform, I might somehow still be recognized as a conscript.
In 2007 we went regularly with Kalle, who was working internationally as a model. We developed a solid routine. Pekka noted during an A4 photoshoot that we had real gains.
In 2014 I focused on becoming a better rider, I observed squats and dead lifts supported posture and performance. It felt like targeted preparation. Movement in one context translated into another.
Around 2017 the social atmosphere developed. There were young asylum seekers, more languages, and visible diversity. I was involved with two, and sometimes three, kettlebell groups as an instructor. Kisis had become culture with Kristian, Paula, Mia and Annina.
I fear my dead lift peaked in 2019 when preparing for trans-siberian rail travel. We trained with Arttu using 130kg sets… I think three reps.
In 2021 Jesse and I were working on an outdoor project. To maintain grip and hold tool pressure for long periods, I developed a kettlebell routine with windmills to build strength in unusual positions.
Returning after COVID around 2022 felt like arriving to a moon station.
Now in 2026 I move in Kisahalli with ease. I know the equipment, the layout, and the rhythm. I’m passing culture forward: clearing my bench between sets, so others can lift, sharing equipment and keeping the flow on. Presence there is like a form of collective bodybuilding. It’s choreographed around practical cooperation between strangers, who are actively not bothering each other, in the extremes of motion.
Today I noticed my limits. A hundred-kilogram set asks something different. There is a future dawning: I’m becoming one of the gray regulars praying to stay strong. Bodies change there and people come and go. I haven’t made any friends in Kisis but all are friendly.