The death of marathon runner Ryan Shay in Central Park during the Olympic time trials on November 3 disturbed many New Yorkers. But there was news of the death of another runner the next day. It was someone who actually finished the marathon — my high school classmate, Matthew Hardy. His story should matter to New Yorkers because he lived in New York since 1991, loved New York, and embodied the city’s quest for achievement.

Matt and I attended Sidwell Friends School together in Washington, D.C., where we both graduated in 1975. At that time Matt was interested in science, yet equally consumed by art, literature, philosophy, and music. Matt’s love of running blossomed during his teenage years as well: he ran on our high school’s cross-country team. For Matt, running was not just a physical experience, but also a moral and spiritual one.

Matt went on to Oberlin College, where he majored in biology and philosophy. Then, off to the University of Virginia to get a doctorate in biology and where he started the research that would make him famous in the world of science. An internationally-acclaimed biologist, he authored three books and almost 100 papers and articles.

The details of the story are simple. Matt died of a heart attack after returning to his home on the Upper East Side. It was his 11th New York City marathon. He completed it in 4:48:21. He walked into his apartment, asked his beautiful wife, Dianne Hardy, also a biologist, for a glass of orange juice, and died while she was fetching it.

Matt was 6’2″, lean, ran every day with his dog in Central Park, and raced regularly. But he never knew that he had arteriosclerotic heart disease. After the race, a clot formed in the coronary artery, leading to the heart attack.

It’s distressing to know that a person can lead a healthy life, run a dozen marathons, and then, out of nowhere, die of a heart attack at the untimely age of 50. As we look forward to the holiday season, we should remember Matt and be thankful for every minute that we have.

Dianne told me, “I am grateful that Matt had a job that he really loved. Not everyone has that. Matt was successful, internationally recognized, with many friends in the scientific community, and traveled all over the world to deliver papers and participate in conferences.”

The memorial service at the John Krtil Funeral Home on First Avenue was packed, with far more mourners than chairs. Matt was praised by friends and family as a warm, humble person, who, despite his prodigious output, had time for everyone, even to write a note to friends on the death of their pet bird. His father, Richard Hardy, came from Florida to mourn the loss of yet another of his five children. His eldest son, Rick, perished in an accident at the age of 18, and the second, Chris, died of lung cancer.

Eulogizing his son at the funeral, he said “Matt, the scientist, I understood a little and admired a lot. Matt, the warm caring wonderful person I’m proud to have given life, I have loved as much as I ever loved another human being. I’m not sure he knew that as much as I feel it, and I’m sad I didn’t give him more cause to know it.”

Much of Matt’s scientific work at the Population Council and as an adjunct professor at Rockefeller University was based on solving problems of male infertility and documenting substances that make toys dangerous to children. According to his colleague and friend, biologist Gary Hunnicutt, “Matt approached science with a contagious, child-like excitement that infected all those around him. Whenever I would ask Matt’s advice on a scientific problem, Matt’s eyes would light up as if I had just asked him if he could play, and in a way I guess I had.”

Matt’s research centered around Leydig cells, named for the German doctor Franz Leydig, who discovered them in 1850. These male cells produce testosterone. Problems in these cells are linked to infertility.

One of his recent major achievements was the discovery of the Leydig stem cells. The implication of the research is that a person’s stem cells could be transplanted back into his own body, causing testosterone generation to resume after chemotherapy or other problems.

Another major accomplishment was investigating how testosterone can be affected by factors such as stress and environmental pollutants. Matt analyzed a compound in common use, phthalates, and found that it can affect testosterone production and therefore male fertility.

Phthalates are used to make plastic toys softer and more flexible, and are found in bath toys, such as rubber ducks. They are also used in medical tubing and fluids bags used in hospitals, including neo-natal wards, which was a source of concern to Matt.

Partly due to Matt’s contributions to scientific research, last month Governor Schwarzenegger signed a bill banning six types of phthalates in childcare products and three in toys. Mr. Schwarzenegger declared, “These chemicals threaten the health and safety of our children at critical stages of their development.” The same ban was implemented in Europe, temporarily in 1999 and permanently in 2005.

As a teenager, Matt was known among his friends for his poetry and artwork. One of the poems he wrote contained the lines:

The light from lofty reaches
Pours through the rose window
Down to us in the aisle of this road
Whose direction may lead us yet
To some unknown grace
Some glory yet unfelt

After his lifetime of achievement and friendships, I hope that Matt has now found the grace and the glory he wrote about over 30 years ago.

Ms. Furchtgott-Roth, former chief economist at the U.S. Department of Labor, is a senior fellow at the Hudson Institute. She can be reached at dfr@hudson.org.