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I say with certainty that I am the best dancer in the Daily Bruin sports section. Dave Regan might beat me out on a bad night – the kid is whiter than Wonder Bread but apparently loves DMX – but the others are more inclined to look up fantasy basketball stats than “shake it like a Polaroid picture.”

But this weekend, I took my love of dance to a new level, and I did so for 26 hours as a participant in UCLA’s Dance Marathon, held to raise money for the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation.

I think my fellow dancers thought I was crazy when I whipped out a tape recorder so I could chronicle my experience. Then again, we all danced for 26 hours, so maybe we were all a little crazy.

11 a.m.: Anxiously awaiting the top of the hour with the help of a projected countdown, and after the clock strikes 11 a.m., DJ G-Roy breaks out some OutKast. There is no turning back. Only 25 hours, 59 minutes to go.

2:03 p.m.: My feet hurt already, after only three hours on the dance floor. Baja Fresh for lunch, though, stamps out foot woes, and I show off some of my more classic moves with the “shopping cart.” If only you were there to see.

6:15 p.m.: Cameron, an AIDS patient recently hospitalized for weeks due to pancreatitis, comes to remind me why I am putting my feet through what ancient Chinese foot binding would feel like. At 22, Cameron looks as frail as my grandmother, but thanks us so many times for raising money to fund the research that is keeping him alive. An onset of tears puts me out of commission from the dance floor for a bit, but I pull myself together. Gotta keep dancing.

9:38 p.m.: After a scrumptious Damon & Pythias dinner – my absolute favorite Westwood restaurant – a second wind helps me dance into the night. News that the UCLA basketball team finally left Pauley Pavilion with a win also helps, although I think I spent the next half hour in a slight state of shock.

10:32 p.m.: Second wind is over. Luckily my roommate and some friends come to help cheer me on, and a PowerBar gives me the energy to keep on rockin’. The DJ finally plays my favorite song, “I Love Rock and Roll,” by Joan Jett – “... so come an’ take your time and dance with me!” Yeah, I can take my time; I’ve got 14 hours and 28 minutes to go.

1:30 a.m.: My feet hurt. That is all.

7:20 a.m.: During stretching with instructors from the Wooden Center, who first led us in a warm-up (apparently dancing for 20 hours didn’t count as a warm up), I realize that touching my toes is no longer a physical possibility. Good times.

10:30 a.m.: I have definitely hit the point of physical exhaustion. My crazy dancing moves are now relegated to shifting weight from foot to foot to avoid standing still and becoming aware of the severe throbbing pain in my feet.

12:30 p.m.: Two words – tootsie roll. Yeah, you remember that one. Only 30 more minutes to go!

1 p.m.: Finally ... get ... to ... sit.

Still, Dance Marathon was about more than dancing for a ridiculously long time. It was about coming together and making a statement. I challenge anyone who claims college students don’t care about the world to look at what 400 of my closest UCLA friends and I did: raise $110,782.80 – more money raised by any college dance marathon in its 16-year history. That’s caring.

Every day, 8,000 children up to age 24 are infected by HIV. That’s our future – individuals who, by no fault of their own, are infected.

Sure I was sore afterwards, but I’m fine today. Cameron and all the other young people who have HIV aren’t OK today, and they won’t be OK on Thursday. So dancing for 26 hours was the least I could do.

What can you do?

Newman challenges you to dance in 2005. She’ll be there. E-mail her at enewman@media.ucla.edu.