The pristine walls embraced the sweet scent of sweat, students wandered with eyes of wonder, and there were plenty of raffle tickets to go around. After over four years of anticipation, the Gary M. Sumers Recreation Center opened its doors to the public Saturday.

After 48 hours of festivities and opening ceremonies, the Gary M. Sumers Recreation Center has finally been christened as the newest building on Washington University’s campus. Tens of millions of dollars, two years of partial closures, a presidential debate and a few patched renovations later, the student body has been rewarded for their patience.

Teams of construction crews have spent the past week constructing podiums, building a fence and planting shrubs—all to turn the Athletic Complex into the biggest media venue in the entire country for one raucous night.

Press your face up to the glass and gaze in wonder—just be sure to wipe away those nose prints. After more than two years of construction, the Gary M. Sumers Recreation Center will officially open Oct. 29.

So you want to get huge? This isn’t a job for the South 40 Fitness Center. You won’t make gains prancing on an elliptical. You need to head over to the Athletic Complex weight room where the big boys play.

After uncovering a time capsule placed in the original Athletics Complex nearly 113 years ago, Washington University announced that it would place a time capsule in the cornerstone of the new addition to the Athletics Complex.

Due to the current Athletic Complex renovations, Dance Marathon and Wednesday’s Fall Career Fair are moving to the Danforth University Center and Mallinckrodt Center, respectively.

The proposed Student Union budget for 2011-2012 will be presented to Senate and Treasury on Wednesday for a vote. The joint SU session will be held in Simon Hall at 9 p.m. and will be open to all students.

After a sleepless night of studying and a caffeinated day of classes, you bundle up your willpower and drag yourself to the Athletic Complex. After passing through new glass-paneled turnstiles that inspire vague associations of Mr. Spock and dystopian fiction, you find yourself waiting in line for a treadmill that may or may not work, flipping through an issue of US Weekly from two weeks ago and thinking about how you could be more productive if only you had joined Bally’s like your roommates did.