With the recent passing of his best friend weighing heavily on his mind, Knoxville West star Matthew Sonnenfeldt persevered to capture the most meaningful of state titles
Some 20 meters from the finish, what should have been a celebratory fist pump morphed into one of the most emotionally inspired and genuinely heartfelt tributes you may ever witness.
His limbs, long-since Gumbyed by the hellacious start, not to mention the pep-sapping days leading up to the race, had yielded all authority to a heart that refused to fail. So as Matthew Sonnenfeldt approached a finish line that would proclaim him state champion for the first time in his career, he mustered up the remaining morsels of energy he had to produce one last meaningful gesture.
Raising his right arm to the sky in the same moment as he glanced upward, he pointed his index finger to the heavens.
Unlike some of the flamboyant Usanian moments witnessed at the finish line during races at the recent Beijing Olympics, Sonnenfeldt’s intention was not to declare himself No. 1.
“I was pointing up there to Markie, just to say ‘I love you,’ and thanking God for getting me through this race and through this week,” said Sonnenfeldt, who captured the Tennessee Secondary Schools Athletic Association AAA title in 15:42. “I was thanking Markie for always being there for me.”
At the very moment that should have been the pinnacle of his young career, the affable senior from Knoxville West was applying partial closure to what was surely the toughest week of his life.
For it was only six days earlier that Sonnenfeldt (TSSAA photos by Bill Luton) awoke to learn that his best friend - a fellow cross country competitor and recently minted district champion in her own right - had lost her life in a single vehicle accident.
Markie Voyles, 17, a state track and field champion and cross country standout at White County High School in Tennessee was killed when the car she was a passenger in slammed into a tree. The friend Sonnenfeldt had spoken to just hours before her death – ending that call as he normally did with a playful "I’ll talk to you tomorrow" – was gone.
What remained to be seen was how those who knew her so well, and loved her so much, could possibly move on following this tragedy.
One thing for sure, for one of the few times since Sonnenfeldt began running in earnest as a freshman, cross country had been demoted in terms of relevance and importance.
“It was a pretty tough week to say the least,” said Sonnenfeldt, often pausing long enough between words to maintain composure well beyond his years. “Winning state wasn’t about me at all any more. It was about Markie, and running for her family. I knew that Markie was going to be with me the whole race, so I just went out there and thought about her and ran for her. I was just happy I could win for her and her family.”
Sonnenfeldt had been chasing an individual state championship since he surprised everyone with a second-place state finish as a sophomore. He settled for runner-up status again as a junior when Sean Keveren, a repeat champion, who Sonnenfeldt had since befriended, beat him to the line again.
But with Keveren moving on to the University of Virginia, that left Sonnenfeldt as the odds-on favorite. This was going to be his year. This was going to be the year that he celebrated at the finish line. He had made the necessary sacrifices, hammering the workouts and running the miles. Victories at the Tennessee Classic and Region 2 Championship coupled with top finishes at the Great American XC Festival and the McDonald’s XC festival at Maymont were the result. With just one meet to go, seemingly, everything was in order and on schedule.
But nowhere under tapering in his final week training plan was it written that he would have to deal with the loss of his best friend. Suddenly, winning the state crown he had forever envisioned meant so much more than the simple fulfillment of a dream. It was no longer just a personal goal. Instead he hoped it could be the cathartic moment that so many were in sudden need.
“I know it was really hard for him because he has been so strong and focused this season,” said Chris Kane, a childhood friend, who now runs for the University of Tennessee. “So to all of a sudden to go from such a high, then he hits an immediate low.”
The morning following Voyles’ death, Kane returned to his hometown to console his friend. The day included a therapeutic 12-mile run, which at varying times included laughter, silence and, of course, tears. But what counted only as a pedestrian 12 miles in the training log, would become the first step toward acceptance, which was ultimately necessary in order to move forward.
“That’s what runs are good for,” Sonnenfeldt said. “They keep you in shape, but they also can clear your mind. It helped me to think of the good memories that we had. I was still hurting, but I knew that she was in a better place, and I knew that we had had good times.”
Still it was an unexpected blow.
Added Sonnenfeldt: “I didn’t know what to think. It was hard. I talked to her the day before, and to know that you are never going to be able to talk to her again …”
The sentence did not need completion. The circumstances were unspeakably tough.
Teenagers are not hardwired to deal with the passing of their peers. It’s just not supposed to happen.
So who could blame Sonnenfeldt if he had little desire to compete at the state cross country championships – a passion that he shared with his best friend – only 48 hours removed from helping carry her casket to her grave.
Somehow he summoned the strength.
“I was probably more proud of him the way he handled himself as a man versus what he dealt with as a runner,” said Marty Sonnenfeldt, who doubles as Matt’s father and coach.
Marty Sonnenfeldt also coached Voyles for a brief time, a relationship, which helped to cement what would become one of his son’s most poignant friendships.
You don’t have to speak with the younger Sonnenfeldt long to realize the importance of his friendships, especially those forged through the sport he loves. He met Keveren on the awards podium at states and nurtured that seedling of a meeting into a thriving relationship with repeated phones calls. He is just that kind of guy - very social - admitted Keveren. Sonnenfeldt made sure they became friends.
It was with that same selflessness and enduring spirit with which he began the healing process. After two days, he realized that there were others who could use his help. This was no time to think about himself, he thought.
“I knew I had to be there for her family, and for all her friends in their time of loss,” said Sonnenfeldt. “I knew I was eventually going to be ok, so I didn’t really worry about myself. I knew she would want me to keep running. She knew that I loved it. I knew immediately what I had to do was win states for her and her family.”
The running community is a tight-knit group. When Sonnenfeldt stepped to the line in pursuit of that elusive state title, Voyles’ family was present. As was Keveren and numerous other Sonnenfeldt cronies. As a group they were going to get through this day together.
Sonnenfeldt appreciated and acknowledged the Voyles’ presence. How they could be there only days after their daughter’s passing was beyond his comprehension. But he was very thankful.
“Right before the race I talked to him and he was calm – as calm as I’ve seen him before a race,” Keveren said. “I don’t think he was that nervous because he knew when that last mile came, he wasn’t going to let up. There was no way. He was so set on running that last mile as hard as he could.
“You could see that emotion when he finished. You could tell that he’d been crying a little bit. It was tough for him.”
The plan was for Sonnenfeldt to take the race out hard, to simulate the quick start he was sure to see later in the season at the Foot Locker South Regional. He hit the 800-meter mark in 2:14. Needless to say, he was emotionally charged. That’s an aggressive beginning to 5k Race. Could he hold on after establishing such a frenetic pace?
From what we have learned over the years about Sonnenfeldt as a competitor, few doubted he could.
“After the funeral, they got to Nashville a few days before states and they were just drained mentally and physically,” Kane said. “To go out there and not only compete, but run the way he did, that was impressive. There are only a couple of runners that I know that share his mental toughness. He’s definitely one of the toughest runners I know. There was no doubt in my mind that he was going to win that race.”
“I can’t even imagine what Matt was going through during that whole thing,” Keveren said. “ I think he definitely channeled all of that energy into his race on Saturday. He ran great. He ran for Markie, for sure. He’s one of the strongest guys I’ve ever seen, emotionally and physically. He doesn’t let circumstances get to him. If he goes out too hard, he’s not going to think about it and let it affect the rest of his race. Every single time, it’s a guarantee that he is going to give it all he can.”
***
It was at the Cherokee Challenge some years earlier when he first took notice of the striking blonde who was easily beating everybody in her race. Her name was Markie Voyles. At that moment, he just knew he just had to get her phone number.
So he did. And they were fast on their way to becoming friends.
Last July, Voyles, Keveren and Sonnenfeldt took a trip to the beach in South Carolina. It was an admitted blast. But the lasting memory - the Kodak moment that will forever find a place among his lifetime collage of successes and failures - is their final time together.
It was at the Great American Cross Country Festival in Alabama. Voyles was scheduled to head to the University of Southern Mississippi on a recruiting visit directly from the race. Before she did, she sought out her friend for a hug.
The words ‘I love you’ still reverberate in his ears.
To Sonnenfeldt, Voyles was not just an amazing athlete or an attractive teenage girl, to him; his best friend was a beautiful person.
“She just cared a lot about everybody,” he said. “She did what was right, because it was right, not because it was cool. She didn’t do stuff because it was the popular thing to do, she did stuff because it right thing to do. Now that she is gone, I try to be a better person. She made an impression on me. I miss her a lot. It is amazing how much a person can change your life in two years. She really became my best friend.
“I try not to throw the word love around. But now that she’s gone, I loved that girl with all my heart. Now that she’s gone, I realize what that is.”