The awe-inspiring Memorial Church, the world-renowned Widener Library, the glorious Sanders Theater, the magnificent domes of Eliot House and Lowell and the Malkin Athletic Center (MAC)... Can somebody tell me which one of these things is not like the others?

Harvard students and faculty alike take great pride in the scenic beauty pervading our campus, knowing how privileged we are to be surrounded by some of the most architecturally interesting and historically monumental of buildings. As upperclassmen stroll through Harvard Yard year after year, we witness with what great care the memorable first-year dorms are restored. I was fortunate to be a first-year in Weld the year following its renovation. It seems that no dorm is merely allowed to wither away for too long without undergoing some restorative treatment.

Memorial Hall is yet another prime example of a breathtaking work of architecture, currently under major construction. While the sight of tractors and the piles of dirt and rock may taint the picturesque beauty of our red brick, autumn-colored setting, we nevertheless greatly appreciate the tireless efforts dedicated towards the proper upkeeping of our collegiate kingdom.

Has anyone seen any tractors outside the MAC recently? Any work zone signs, such as "temporarily closed due to construction"? Have any of the weight rooms been sealed off, due to the delivery of new equipment?

The Malkin Athletic Center is essentially the ugly duckling among the many magnificent architectural swans. Granted, its facade is far from shabby. However, just as in the case of the John Harvard statue, looks can be deceiving. Once you get a little closer the pollution attacks your senses. You know full well what you're smelling, but you think to yourself, "No, it can't really be; I'm sure it's clean enough to use."

Well, for those of you who still hug the statue of John Harvard, fine. You won't mind the MAC's filth. For those of us who are a bit more concerned with out personal hygiene, the MAC is at the very least problematic and at the very worst fatal.

Let's look at how the MAC affects each one of our five precious senses, beginning with our ability to see. What is it we see exactly when we step into this center for physical improvement? Upon my arrival and my descent into the rooms of hell, I usually spot an arrangement of used paper towels lying all over the floors.

If you have never noticed them, try walking down the corridor adjacent to the Nautilus room and peek through the glass. You'll see them; they're the ugly brown colored ones and they make the room a rather unattractive place to exercise. Numerous other articles line the floors of the main workout rooms, such as newspapers, potato chip bags, soda cans and other really inspiring artistic pieces, creating an ideal exercising ambiance.

Then there is what we do not see. For those first-years who have yet to venture over to the MAC, you must be forewarned: there are no treadmills. Do not despair.

Although health clubs across the country have come to recognize treadmills as the preferred aerobic exercise machine, we at Harvard are not fooled by their deceiving advantages. They do not come close to the wonderful bikes whose seats collapse as you sit down. The timing of this embarrassing mishap usually occurs just as someone attractive steps into the room and glances your way.

Frustration with the absence of treadmills is initially relieved by the presence of the stairmasters. Yes, there are four downstairs, but you can count on one of them being broken. Three stairmasters for a supposed to serve an entire college, professorial and teaching staff and some graduate students.

Oh, I almost forgot, for those who love hikes, there is yet a fifth stairmasters located above the gym. Usually, just as you reach your last step and you're so excited just to finally get there, someone else has just gotten on. Now, you have nothing to do except think about how by now you probably missed your turn on the ones downstairs.

The other equipment is equally unsatisfactory. The "red room" where the stairmasters are located is also home to an ancient civilization of weight machines. We should be careful not to expose their whereabouts for they are undoubtedly an endangered species, unknown to the other gyms of the world.

While most health clubs are constantly upgrading their equipment, we at Harvard fervently hold on to tradition and resist the forces of modernization. And what is it we smell as we stroll through each room at the MAC? I would posit that it is the powerful aroma of perspiration and body odor. Much in the spirit of Harvard diversity, this scent usually seems to be a unusual mix of many different types of sweat.

Yes, ventilation will undoubtedly be a problem when an exercise room is located underground and is barely able to grasp air through its barred windows leading to the glorious outdoors. It sounds like a prison, but really it's great. Where else can you sample a bit of body odor from each of your schoolmates?

One's sense of hearing in the MAC is struck by some unusual noises. This is the sound of squeaking stairmasters, usually indicative of an imminent shut-down. One will also hear the grunts of one or two annoying people who have their walkmans on way too loud and cannot consequently hear the unattractive sounds they are making.

The ability to taste in the MAC is the only one of our senses that is treated well in this dungeon. I am referring to the consistently cold water fountain. I will give credit where it is due. Great job, guys. Keep up the good temperature control.

Lastly, there is that which we should never touch. Stairmasters users beware. Although it may seem as if the person who used the machine before you wiped off the drops of sweat they left on the handle bars, they did not. Like Ragu tomato sauce, "It's in there." Trust me.

Therefore, you may wish to consider wearing gloves while you work-out, unless you are a bit more laid back about these things than I. Again, maybe you're one of those who cuddle with John Harvard.

All kidding aside, the MAC is embarrassingly and inexcusably ill-equipped and poorly kept. For a school with as large an endowment as ours, we can afford to renovate the inside of the MAC and install some twentieth century equipment.

We must take the strict standards we employ in the academic sphere and bring into the realm of physical conditioning. Wasn't it Locke, who in providing instruction to educators, recognized that one is only properly and thoroughly educated 'when taught to value both "a sound mind and a sound body?"