Kuviakangeiko – Day Five: Finally, to the Point

Tiffany Young writes about her experience finishing Kuvia, walking to the Point with some crazy house-members, and earning the coveted Kuvia shirt.

By Tiffany Young

It's been five days of getting up before dawn, five days of mustering up the energy to shake my tush, and after this morning's walk to the Point, I felt so accomplished: I finished Kuvia/Kangeiko.

It’s amazing to think that I had done so much—and seen Hyde Park from one of its most scenic spots as the sun rose—all before 9 a.m. I contemplated the merits of making this a regular routine, but that's more the spirit and energizy of Kangeiko, not the reality of an overburdened student.

I am a part of Dodd-Mead House (in B-J), and it’s a sturdy tradition that fourth-year members of the house—residents and ex-pats alike—remove a piece of clothing after completing each Friday morning salutation. This year, three of our own were brave enough to keep the practice alive, one zealous house member triumphant in nothing but tiny boxer shorts (no socks, shoes, or gloves) doing push-ups in the snow. Cameras clicked and groaning filled the air as we all felt the pain of just watching what they went through.

After buses took us back to Henry Crown, students swarmed around tables laden with bagels, hot chocolate, and, most importantly, the prized Kuvia t-shirts, special because they can only be earned, not bought. I’ll admit I was a little disappointed that the shirts this year aren’t the long-sleeved kind characteristic of the past few years’ Kangeiko ware. But I’m still proud to have this year’s Kuvia shirt to show for my dedication, its fire-breathing polar bear printed on the front an awesome memory of Kangeiko to hold onto until next year.

For myself, my housemates, and the couple hundred others who have participated, the past week has been marked by self-discipline and a “we’re in this together” closeness. Right now, I know everyone is fatigued and grateful for the three-day weekend ahead, but I don’t think I just speak for myself when I say that it’s been a worthy, memorable experience.