Editor’s note: The following is a continuing journal of a fictional college student. It is intended to be a humorous and enjoyable feature about an average Joe. Though written by Iowa State’s own Scott Jacobson, a Daily staff writer, people, places and events detailed below are not analogous to a real student.

January 21, 2000

So there I was, veering off the track after finishing my second mile of the night when I ran into — and nearly over — Walt’s little brother Ted.

“What the Sam heck are you doing?” a very startled Ted snapped at me.

“Sorry, man, I didn’t see you there,” I replied.

“No, I mean, what are you doing here? This is the Rec Center, and you are, well, you,” he clarified as tactfully as possible.

“Well, can’t a guy just come and work out without getting harassed by his roommate’s cousin’s little brother anymore? And did I hear you say ‘Sam heck’ just now?”

“Well, I guess it’s cool that you’re at the Rec and all, but it just surprised me a bit. And yes, you heard right. I gave up swearing for New Year’s.”

Now this intrigued me.

First off, Ted doesn’t swear much as it is, so I didn’t see this being a big problem in his life.

He says “Bulldog” when he doesn’t believe something you say, refers to butts as behinds, yells “Judas” when being emphatic, and when he flat out refuses to do something, he’ll tell you “No freakin’ way.”

But Sam heck?

That brings me to the other branch of our conversation. Why is it that just because a guy likes to bowl and eat frozen pizzas, it’s a complete shocker when he shows up at the Rec? Can’t a guy just hope to be a little less chubby?

Here’s the deal. Ted is a freshman and is coming off a senior year of cross country, basketball, track and soccer. In other words, he’s in shape. I’m an old guy who’s coming off seven and a half years of mug nights, FAC’s, spring breaks, “Real World” marathons and naps.

For him, an off day is only running three or four miles without lifting or biking. For me, an off day is when they’re showing “Gattaca” for the eighth time this week on HBO.

But I’ve decided to change all that. Or at least some of it.

Three days after New Year’s, I was laying around, being not-so-skinny, when Pablo stopped by to return Chet’s power drill, Eddie’s blender and my Tuff ‘n’ Stuff duffel bag. Long story.

Pablo was on his way to the Rec Center and told me that if I wasn’t doing anything, I should come along to try to work off some of my holiday heft. I have to admit I was a little hesitant. But since my only excuse was trying to figure out why Chachi was on the same PAX show as Dick Van Dyke, he was able to convince me to go.

On the way there, I thought back to the last time I’d been at the Rec Center.

It was my freshman year, and I lived in Larch Hall. After the first week of classes, I had worked out almost every other day and I bet myself I could stick with it since I lived so close.

Nearly eight years later, I realize I really shouldn’t gamble like that.

So there I was, jogging with Pablo around the upstairs track when I saw Melissa and a couple of her friends on the Stairmasters. Then I noticed Carl and Hank working out on the free weights. And in the corner I spotted Chelli and Nikki doing some aerobic-type stuff that required far more flexibility than my belly will allow.

That’s when it dawned on me. The Rec Center is just like People’s, minus the beer. And Paul Wright.

So that’s my new thing. Besides the fact that I can’t see anything without my glasses, I’m having fun working out. I’m kind of getting into the running and I still can’t lift very much, but I try, darn it. And at the end of the day, I feel a little less unfit. And it’s a helluva lot better than watching “Gattaca” again.