Being a non-athlete by university definition, I am one of those people who is athlete-like because I exercise on a somewhat sporadic basis. (By sporadic, I mean that I go every day for one week, three times during the next, miss six days and then come off the bench to play four days out of seven to polish off the month.)

Anyhow, I want to say the Rec has really been there for me during my years as a Cyclone student. The Rec is loaded. This place has every machine imaginable. What’s more, these machines include instructional diagrams for those people who are new to the fitness realm.

I admit that I have had to read one or two of these instructional stickers before subjecting my body to contortions it has never known. And, after looking at the little stickers to see how they work, I must also admit that I want to use the machine so I can become strong like the muscled man in the little picture. I give the sticker-making people credit for their motivational techniques.

For me, the Rec has been the location for making memories while doing sports-oriented activities. (Which is why I can write the following column that is not really related to athletics).

Some of these memorable Rec activities include chatting sessions while legging laps on the upper track, sweating through my sweatshirts on the stair master, shooting indoor track photos of my friends and my old boyfriend and gawking at the various people who walk by.

It is gawking at various people that I want to discuss with you today.

I share with you a triumphant, courageous move I once made at the Rec. It was a day I spent months preparing for. But by the end of spring semester ’96, I had mustered enough strength (thanks to the Cybex company and their hard-core equipment) to approach the victim of my sweaty stares.

It was May Day, 1996. I must have been delirious from the high level of activity, or maybe it was the altitude of the building’s third floor, I really don’t know. But with a ponytail atop my head, I approached the guy I had appropriately nicknamed “Hot Guy of the World.”

I don’t remember exactly how I made my way over to his bicycle or what I said to him, but I do recall the introductory phrases that marked the beginning of the somewhat embarrassing and unique conversation. It went something like this, “I know this is cheesy, but thanks for giving me something to look at while working out at the Rec all semester…”

I don’t need to say anymore about that incident (except for “hi and good luck to you” to the guy if he is reading this). I will say that it’s the gutsiest leap I have ever made socially.

And gutsy moves are occasionally required in this game we call life. At the Rec, on the court or in the classroom we never know what impact we can make unless we make our move. Sometimes we simply have to do something less safe in order to advance our character. Although playing it safe is safe, it is likely that there will come a time when you have to make that play, push past that runner in order to get beyond what you are comfortable with and gain something else.

In my case, I really didn’t want to gain anything from “Hot Guy of the World,” I just wanted him to know that he was appreciated. Luckily, he took it well. And thanks to the whole incident, I have a good story to tell, more guts and a finished column.

Amanda Fier is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Davenport.