2008 Woodie Awards
Seeing the city, one step at a time
Matthew D. R. Lehner
Issue date: 4/4/08 Section: Features
It was winter break freshman year when a friend sent me a message asking, "Hey, do you want to run the St. Louis Half Marathon with me?"
I had run throughout high school, but never competitively. The previous semester, I thought running from Saint Louis University to the Arch was an accomplishment. But 13.1 miles-that's out of my range. Nevertheless, we found a training schedule and, during the next 12 weeks, trained five days a week. After I crossed the finish line, I had the itch to go even further and do the whole 26.2. From that time on, I have told others: I'm a runner.
Over the years, I tried my luck at other sports-soccer, basketball and baseball-but I never excelled at them. None of them ever satisfied me, either. But my independent streak and running found companionship, one with another.
My running has taken me to the Chicago Marathon and to the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, D.C. These achievements have had their costs. The training course is long and time-consuming, with inclement weather (sometimes 84 degrees at 6:30 a.m., -6 degrees other times) and numerous falls. I have lost almost every toenail from the physical pounding my feet have endured.
But, despite the costs, my running has changed my perspective about the city I have called home for three years. My running continues to take me through the streets of St. Louis. I have discovered the great parks of the city: Tower Grove, Lafayette Square and Forest Park-not from behind the wheel, but with my feet.
Unlike so many other people in St. Louis, I continue to discover the city by running. Many people are often surprised when I mention some coffee shop tucked away in one of St. Louis' neighborhoods.
My mornings aren't complete anymore without seeing the sunrise reflected off the Central West End's glass buildings, the crisp accent of the BBC podcast filling my ears or feeling the pavement beneath my feet. I have memorized the order, both east and west, of the streets between SLU and Forest Park. And, even more importantly, I know where every water fountain and public toilet is in the city.
Every morning at sunrise, I have smelled the fresh coffee permeating outside 6 North Coffee and seen the old man in the park whom I pass at mile five. Along the way, I have looked up above the street windows and found a whole new world. I have discovered the decades-old gargoyles staring down at me from their perch on Olive Street downtown. The great masonry works of 19th century St. Louis (that haven't been torn down) have shown me the importance of buildings.
Running is about setting out on a path, hoping to achieve your own goal. The majority of the time, it isn't easy. The 18-week training alters life. My friends heckle me for going to bed at 10:30 p.m. every night of the week. But by 6:30 a.m. the next morning, my shoes are laced, and I am headed west.
Each person out there on Sunday will have his or her own reason for running. For some, they will be running for a cause. Others hope their times will send them to Boston. For me, it'll mark a point of reflection to look back at the challenge that was once 18 weeks ago.
Running, like life, has taught me that the first step is the hardest. After that, it's just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. When I cross the finish line Sunday morning, I hope that my body will have propelled me quickly enough to achieve a 3:20-finishing time. If not, that's OK. Either way, I'll continue to take the first step each morning when the sun rises, whether in running or in life.
Matthew D. R. Lehner is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences and will run the St. Louis Marathon Sunday, April 6.
I had run throughout high school, but never competitively. The previous semester, I thought running from Saint Louis University to the Arch was an accomplishment. But 13.1 miles-that's out of my range. Nevertheless, we found a training schedule and, during the next 12 weeks, trained five days a week. After I crossed the finish line, I had the itch to go even further and do the whole 26.2. From that time on, I have told others: I'm a runner.
Over the years, I tried my luck at other sports-soccer, basketball and baseball-but I never excelled at them. None of them ever satisfied me, either. But my independent streak and running found companionship, one with another.
My running has taken me to the Chicago Marathon and to the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington, D.C. These achievements have had their costs. The training course is long and time-consuming, with inclement weather (sometimes 84 degrees at 6:30 a.m., -6 degrees other times) and numerous falls. I have lost almost every toenail from the physical pounding my feet have endured.
But, despite the costs, my running has changed my perspective about the city I have called home for three years. My running continues to take me through the streets of St. Louis. I have discovered the great parks of the city: Tower Grove, Lafayette Square and Forest Park-not from behind the wheel, but with my feet.
Unlike so many other people in St. Louis, I continue to discover the city by running. Many people are often surprised when I mention some coffee shop tucked away in one of St. Louis' neighborhoods.
My mornings aren't complete anymore without seeing the sunrise reflected off the Central West End's glass buildings, the crisp accent of the BBC podcast filling my ears or feeling the pavement beneath my feet. I have memorized the order, both east and west, of the streets between SLU and Forest Park. And, even more importantly, I know where every water fountain and public toilet is in the city.
Every morning at sunrise, I have smelled the fresh coffee permeating outside 6 North Coffee and seen the old man in the park whom I pass at mile five. Along the way, I have looked up above the street windows and found a whole new world. I have discovered the decades-old gargoyles staring down at me from their perch on Olive Street downtown. The great masonry works of 19th century St. Louis (that haven't been torn down) have shown me the importance of buildings.
Running is about setting out on a path, hoping to achieve your own goal. The majority of the time, it isn't easy. The 18-week training alters life. My friends heckle me for going to bed at 10:30 p.m. every night of the week. But by 6:30 a.m. the next morning, my shoes are laced, and I am headed west.
Each person out there on Sunday will have his or her own reason for running. For some, they will be running for a cause. Others hope their times will send them to Boston. For me, it'll mark a point of reflection to look back at the challenge that was once 18 weeks ago.
Running, like life, has taught me that the first step is the hardest. After that, it's just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. When I cross the finish line Sunday morning, I hope that my body will have propelled me quickly enough to achieve a 3:20-finishing time. If not, that's OK. Either way, I'll continue to take the first step each morning when the sun rises, whether in running or in life.
Matthew D. R. Lehner is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences and will run the St. Louis Marathon Sunday, April 6.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
S D
posted 4/17/08 @ 10:16 PM CST
Wow, that made me feel like a lazy waste of space!
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