RUNNERS' TRAILS LEAVE A LEGACY.

Byline: Jill Painter

Staff Wrtier

Denny Smith is a beach volleyball player, but he couldn't resist the hype over the first L.A. Marathon 22 years ago.

It sounded fun, and he wanted to impress a woman, so he decided to run even though he didn't train for it. He made his way around the 26.2-mile course in deck shoes, which made walking excruciating afterward.

Somehow, he finished the race and even ran the following year.

Smith, an inner-city school teacher at West Athens in Los Angeles, was done with marathons at that point. When one of his students asked if he was running again, he said no. The kid called him a quitter.

Smith was stunned. He wanted to be a good role model for his students. So, Smith ran again and again and again. And that's how he became a legacy runner -- someone who has run each and every one of L.A.'s 22 marathons. It's an exclusive group of about 254 members, although it could be as many as 270 by Sunday's race day.

"It means there's a certain continuity in my life," Smith said. "It's a continuity of pain, but one that turns out to be a rich source of pride. It means a lot to the kids. It's a basic commitment. You set goals. I think it's part of being a good role model to them. I like that aspect of the whole thing.

"When one of my kids said, 'You're a quitter,' I was trying to explain how great it was to do one of these things. He still saw me as being a quitter. So, I figured I'd get to five. OK, 10. I would've quit if it wasn't for a couple of the kids at school."

Even though Smith isn't an elite runner, he is in an elite group.

The legacy runners take pride in their moniker and Smith and Lou Briones, another legacy runner, wanted to get to know the other members, so they helped organize activities. They have runs about once a month, where they meet in Pasadena or Marina Del Rey or Los Angeles and have brunch afterward. They celebrate together after the marathon, too.

Briones, who lives in Westchester, very much identifies with his accomplishment, so much so that he goes by the nickname, "Legacy Lou." That's his e-mail address, too. And, if you search among the 20-something thousand runners, you could spot him because "Legacy Lou" is on his race bib.

"There's no way I could stop now," said Briones, 60.

"I've got to keep going as long as I can. I don't want to start any other streaks. It becomes a real task to get up for this race every year after getting older and heavier and getting more aches and pains that I didn't have before. My hip joints have been bothering me. I look forward to the week after the marathon when I can stop running and put my feet up for a week."

Aimee Wyatt, 38, is the youngest legacy runner. She started running when she was 16, although she had to fudge her age on the entry form since she wasn't 18. Wyatt, who lives in Glendale, ran in four hours and 15 seconds last year. She jokingly blames a course reporter from NBC who stopped her for a three-minute interview, which she said caused her to miss breaking the four-hour mark.

As for the age discrepancy that first year, Wyatt said: "I have a feeling 16-year-olds are lying about a lot worse things."

She's happy she did and now has a special legacy bib -- No. 10,001.

"I think it's pretty neat to look back and have done 22marathons," Wyatt said. "Most of the gang does other marathons, but I might be the only one that doesn't. It's neat to look back at it as an accomplishment, and you know it's a goal for the next year and the next and the next."

Smith gets his class into the marathon each year, too. He has students do exercises for 26 days -- one for each mile. He asks them to set daily goals, like read a book, stay out of a fight or eat healthy for a day.

He said the kids really get into it, too, which is plenty of motivation to get him through the wall at mile 22, or mile 14, wherever it hits that particular year.

"I'll keep it up until something hurts," Smith said. "If I get any kind of injury, I'll give it up in a second. As long as the following week after the marathon I can go for a bike ride or a run, I'm OK. But it would be kind of great if the whole marathon ended. I wouldn't run another marathon, that's for sure."

As long as he can still get to school on the Monday after the marathon -- he rarely sits down for fear that he won't be able to get back up -- Smith will keep running.

Craig Chambers of Santa Monica, is another legacy runner who will embark on his 23rd anniversary.

Chambers would have an excuse not to do the marathon -- he's undergoing chemotherapy for melanoma -- but he's so determined that he'll walk the race this year.

"What else are you going to do?" Chambers asked. "It's a great thing. L.A. was the first marathon to pay attention to (legacy runners). They've done more over the years for us. ... L.A. is special. It's my city."

And that's why the Legacy Lous keep coming back for more.

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Photo:

L.A. Marathon legacy runners include, from left, Gunnar Nelson, Sandy Erickson, Tom Ouimet, Vincent McMillen, Aimee Wyatt, Mike Sheehan, Arlene Fichman, Denny Smith and Lou Briones.

Special to the Daily News