On Walking, Geese, and Implicit Contests

I typically spend my workdays slogging through various layers of nearly impenetrable corporate bureaucracy, and once noon rolls around, I usually feel the need to get away from it all. After a quick lunch at my desk, I head outside for a quick stroll.

Walking in Minnesota during the summer months is quite enjoyable, although there are a few things I need to watch out for.

Geese – Born with a sense of entitlement that all city property is theirs, they like to block the sidewalks as they perform their daily duty of pecking the grass, leaving behind an astounding number of droppings, and occasionally crossing the road at an incredibly slow pace in order to create large traffic backups. Very territorial, they hiss vehemently at anything they believe poses a threat, such as pedestrians, cars, wind, blades of grass, sticks, figments of their imagination, etc.

Sprinkers – Placed by the city to keep the grass flanking the sidewalks green, they make it interesting for walkers who’d rather not come back from lunch soaked to the bone. One way to avoid this is to just stay out of their wake, but that means walking on the road, which may not be the best idea, since vehicles stop for geese and nothing else. If the sprinklers are of the rotating variety, good timing and fast running will allow one to slip through unscathed, although one risks twisting an ankle and going down, leaving them helpless as they watch the line of water slowly creep towards them. (This also makes one highly vulnerable to pecking geese.)

Sweating – In the Twin Cities, the average humidity in the summer is approximately 834 percent. You do the math from there. (Also, feel free to add your own goose joke, too, if you’d like.)

But now summer is long gone, and winter is fast approaching. As the temperatures have plummeted, I’ve noticed that there are fewer people out walking, as most work-walkers are fair-weather in nature. For some reason, call it my competitive nature, or simply brain freeze, I’ve decided that there’s an implicit contest of will occurring to see who’ll be the last one of us to call it quits in the face of Mother Nature.

Ever since the contest began, when I walk past somebody on the sidewalk, instead of nodding politely, I glare at them in what I hope is an intimidating manner. (It may just look like I’ve got something in my eye and can’t stop twitching, but that’s beside the point.) I also feel like I should break out the trash talking pretty quick here: “I’ve seen plenty like you before. You’re a dime a dozen! You’re all bluster now, but you’ll burn yourself out halfway through December!” “You call that a walking style? It’s more like shin splints waiting to happen!” “What’s that, a glacier impression? Eat my dust!”

Overall, I’m fairly confident in my chances of winning, mainly because I’m the only one who’s actually aware they’re in a contest. However, there’s one wild card that concerns me. Occasionally I see people out walking who are obviously not affected by temperature. I’ll be wearing a jacket, hat, and gloves, and still shivering, and they’ll be wearing next to nothing and appear completely comfortable. They are obviously freaks of nature who have, for one reason or another, become immune to coldness. It appears that these people could walk around in mid-February, when it’s ten below, in a t-shirt and shorts and not suffer even the slightest of shivers. They’re my main competition, and I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out a good way to give myself a “competitive advantage.” However, I’m not very good at evil planning, and I’m not quite sure how to proceed.

For example, if I pass one of my main competitors on the sidewalk and then push them into a snowbank, hoping to break their spirit, what exactly are the implications? Would it be ethical? I’d say yes, since I’m on lunch break and not being paid, but others may have different opinions. Also, would it be smart? I’m not what you’d consider a brawler, as I’ve lost many a physical confrontation to a tight lid on a jar. Plus, I usually only consider physical confrontations as a last resort, after I’ve tried running away and bribery. So, wouldn’t pushing somebody into a snowbank just be an invitation to something I want to avoid? But, what if I pushed and ran immediately? Would that give me enough of a head start?

As you can see, many questions abound, and I’m not sure how it’ll all turn out. However, I do know that it’s going to be into a contest of cunning, strategy, sheer will, and guts. Stay tuned.

Also, if I dressed right, would anybody actually believe they got pushed into the snowbank by a snowman? Or would a goose costume be a better idea?