But We're Never Gonna Survive Unless We Are a Little Crazy

At no point in my twenty-seven years on earth have I worn a bikini. My older sister gave me a little top with some boy shorts once; they sat in my dresser drawer. It was out of my comfort zone to wear anything less than a one piece swimming suit, being raised quite modestly in that respect. I never thought my first experience wearing a bikini would be in the middle of winter while running a Beat the New Year 5K close to midnight.

A year ago I started the race that would completely change my life. It was this 5K, held every year on New Year's Eve, which led me to do something new every week of 2009. It was the preparation for it in 2008 which laid the foundation for no longer feeling doomed to be a victim. The discipline and rewards from running led me to see myself differently and realize how much we are capable of becoming, and it is this realization echoed throughout my year which led to the natural conclusion to end the year as I had started, running the exact same race. The only problem was a 5K was no longer something new, and it had to be new in order for me to succeed in my goal. Enter the bikini. Most races require standard running attire, but this particular Beat the New Year 5K encourages runners to dress up (or dress down if you dare). So now the only question was, why not? Honestly, how did you expect me to end my book? By playing a new video game? Wearing mismatched socks? No, there was far too much effort and imagination put into every week in 2009 for me to end without a bang. I needed to do something that both fit within my concept and held its own shock value.

But wait, what about hypothermia and frostbite, you ask. I had a plan for that. There would come one problem, however, I did not anticipate.

Before I tell you about that, I had the task of finding a bikini. I didn't want to wear what my older sister gave me seven or so years ago because the boys shorts felt like cheating. Sure, it is a two-piece suit but it's not what comes to mind when hearing the word 'bikini.' I needed the authentic vision. My sister Tiffani, who had her part in fourteen entire weeks with me this year, let me borrow hers. She advised me to wear the boy shorts instead, but it was too late; I knew what I wanted to do.

And I did have a plan. After running this race a year ago and seeing a girl not much larger than me running in a red bikini and witnessing several guys in speedos, I knew this could be done without requiring a ride to the emergency room. Nevertheless, I didn't want to be foolhardy. Tiffani told me of a guy on her high school cross country team who caught hypothermia during a race, and that was during the day, not close to midnight like my crazy pack of runners.

The simplest answer in my opinion was to give myself enough time to transition between winter running attire and swimwear. By arriving forty-five minutes early, there was plenty of time to register with the other runners, begin walking and jogging and building heat, then slowly, conscientiously, remove layers.

When I was down to nothing more than the bikini, socks and shoes, and a scarf, I was surprised by how well my body was taking the cold. There were a few other runners in hardly any clothing this year, including a man with no shoes. Can you imagine going outside at night in the middle of winter and saying, "No thanks, just a pair of shorts will do." He ran the entire 3.1 miles barefoot.

People started to cheer, a signal the race had started. As I ran, the increased air against my stomach was a reminder of no longer being a sane member of society. Sure, perhaps I am a bit crazy to do this; perhaps crazy people have the most fun.

About halfway through the race, the problem I didn't expect occurred. Sometimes when I run I get the occasional side ache, but this is the first time it has happened during a race. Not the first I was hoping for! I slowed considerably while fighting this pain.

Looking back last year, I never stopped during the race. I decided I must not stop this year either. The cold might have had something to do with starting to cramp up, so I tried to relax my abdominal muscle and breathe through it, rather than against it.

Near the end of the race, the pain was gone, but so was some of my hope for beating the race in under a half hour. This race is set up to start a half an hour before midnight, and if you run the race in this time or less, you have "beat the new year." The finish line was quickly approaching when I saw flashing lights ahead. I thought, there I missed it. Yet I didn't let myself give up either. I had made it to this race, I was in a bikini, I had done something new every week in 2009. Was I going to bring in 2010 with a frown? Of course not. I pushed forward.

I saw some of my family members on the side cheering me on. I ran faster and without any pain. Just as I began to cross the finish line, I heard the countdown, "Five, four, three, two, one . . ." I hadn't missed the half-hour mark after all! The circumstance was the race started a few minutes late, so the New Year had already happened, but there was still a chance to "beat it." And I did that with about five seconds to spare.

What helped me most was my family cheering for me at the end. Seeing the amused and slightly bewildered smiles on their faces as I passed in a hot pink and white-sequined bikini was enough to push me forward. There is something about both the spectators and all these people who celebrate the new year by participating in a race, whether it was the guy dressed up as the banana being chased by the guy in the gorilla costume or the man who jumped in the snow when he finished, that is so life-affirming. And I did not get frostbite or hypothermia! Nor was I the least dressed there. You do feel a little crazy, until you look to your left.

I am so excited I have accomplished my goal. 2009 still passes with a flash, but I now have fifty-two new things I had never done. At this point I must push forward, not in the sense of my side ache but in a sense of duty, to work on this book and make sure, no matter what happens, I do the work to get it published. A year ago, I wasn't sure if I would be able to find a new experience every week. Now a part of me feels this same pressure regarding the steps ahead. But if I am feeling doubt at this point, all I have to do is stop and remind myself, "I ran 3.1 miles in winter wearing a bikini! Surely, I can anything I need to do in my life!"