Reed - The extra mile: one womans personal journey to ultra-running greatness

I want to dedicate this book to my husband, Jim, and my kids.

First, this is for Jimif it wasnt for him I wouldnt even have tried ultrarunning. I also wouldnt be director of the Tucson Marathon. Those were both Jims ideas, and I just ran with them. He has made a lot of sacrifices for me and for our family. He really is one of the hardest-working and most energetic people I know.

My kids, Timothy, Andrew, and Jackson, have had many times when their mother has not been around. I hope that they can see that through hard work you can accomplish just about anything. All three of my kids are really good people. I cant wait to see what neat things they will do when they grow up.

I nspiration and guidance are often sought in the pages of books, and on rare occasions a volume will generously reward the reader with a sense of comfort and direction. On the surface, Pam Reeds accomplishments would seem to be anything but comfortable. And Pam really only knows how to move in one direction: forward. So where does that leave the reader of these words? On the edge of his or her seat, anxious to find out what happens next. Ultimately, though, the reader will be comforted and inspired by Pams matter-of-fact approach to running and to life.

Pam Reeds story is important for many reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with running. She has proven time and again that gender, age, and physical stature are minor factors when compared with determination and sheer will. In a world where many mothers use having a family as an excuse to quit exercising, Pam is driven to show that being married and the mother of three boys (stepmom to two more) is a reason to start running. She understands that the best way to inspire ones children is by being a good example. Dont just tell them what to do, show them.

Does Pam Reed have an ego? You bet she does. Does she enjoy winning and setting records? Of course. But winning and records are not enough to explain Pams drive and determination. This book gives some insight into the intangible personality traits that push Pam beyond her own physical limitations.

I met Pam several years ago at a prerace party for Badwater, the 135-mile Death Valley ultramarathon. She was the defending champion and I was a race rookie. I watched her from a distance as she mingled with other runners, and I was struck by a very specific thought: She doesnt want to be here! By here, I meant at that party. She would have much preferred to be running. At that moment, I realized that she was very much like meinsecure, uncertain, driven. Outwardly confident, yet tormented by doubts. I liked her. Ultimately she won her second straight Badwater and I barely survived.

Two years later, in 2005, I was back to try again and so was Pam. I was very anxious and hoped to finish the race without needing any serious medical attention. I started with Pam and about 25 other runners at 10:00 a.m. I used Pam as my gauge for pacing myself. In 2003, I was well ahead of Pam for much of the race and then fell apart while she went on to win. This time I decided that I would stay behind her. It turned out to be a smart decision on my part. My first 50 miles were very strong and I was feeling good. Only a big mistake on my part would stop me from doing well. That mistake came at about 52 miles, when I took off my hat. Sometimes runners in extreme conditions do stupid things. For some unknown reason, I removed my hat, exposing my head to temperatures well over 120 degrees. At about the 57-mile mark, I began to overheat. At the 58-mile mark, I passed Pam and her crew. Pam is very competitive and I am sure she did not like seeing me go past her. So what did she do? She told me to put my hat back on, giving me a brief but poignant lecture about keeping cool. She probably saved my race. I went on to finish a surprising third that year, actually beating Pam for the first time in any race. She didnt have to help me, but she did.

To a lot of people, ultrarunning doesnt make sense. I cant explain why someone like Pam Reed does what she does. She can give lots of reasons for it, but even she cant identify that part of her that forces her to keep moving forward, searching for the next life lesson. That is one of the things that make her special. Oh, and one word of advice to the reader: You might as well put on your running shoes now, because you will be running down a trail soon.

I t was 1996, the 100th running of the Boston Marathon, and I was all set to go! For long-distance runners, theres something absolutely unique about Boston. Thousands of athletes from all over the world first have to qualify for and then make their way to the mother of all marathonsand I would be among them. I was still relatively new to distance running, and I was really psyched to take part in the 100th running of the event.

But for me, getting into the raceaccomplished by running a qualifying time at a qualifying marathon elsewhere during the year before the Bostonwas not a foregone conclusion. In 1995, I was pregnant with my third son, Jackson, and while its true that I ran all through my pregnancy, I was not running long races.

Jackson made his appearance in the world on July 23. It probably goes without saying that just after giving birth youre not really in peak condition. Jacksons delivery had been a cesarean section, which I somehow didnt think of as major surgery. I then had to get ready for Boston because my last chance to qualify would be in Chicago in October. So, just to give myself a gentle workout, in late September I entered a 100-mile race, the Angeles Crest near Los Angeles. A friend of mine had told me about this racehed crewed it before and told me that it was a fun course.

Well, that wasnt my experience. By mile 50 my quads were shot. I was in so much pain that I started yelling at my friend, saying something along the lines of I cant believe you didnt tell me how tough this course is! When I think of this Im a little embarrassed because it is very out of character for me to yell at someone for something like that. I was actually mad at myself, not him. I was out of shape, and how stupid was I to run a 100-miler 10 weeks after having a C-section? Not to mention that I was dead tired since Jackson never let me sleep through the night!

But I had really wanted to do this 100-miler, just to show myself that I could still run that far. I felt that if I went too long without running an ultra, I might not get back into it again. Anyway, that was my practice run.

The Chicago Marathon was the first week in October. My husband, Jim, was in shape and wanted to do it, so we went together. (My sister, Debbie, came from Wisconsin to watch Jackson.) I needed only a 3:40 time to qualify for Boston, and I intended to pretty much hit that number and be satisfied. As it happened, I was running along with two guys, just keeping it steady, not thinking much about the time. When I finished, I was shocked to see that I had done a 3:18: I qualified with room to spare. And Jim ran an amazing 3:15.

The Boston Marathon is always on a Monday in April. I had made a plane reservation that would allow me to arrive a day early, meet my sister in Boston, and share a hotel room with her the night before the race. Jim had agreed to stay home in Tucson with Jackson and the other two boys, Tim and Andrew. (It was tax season and Jim is an accountant, so it was no small gift for him to assume full child-care duties!) Getting to the race was going to be a little complicated. Southwest Airlinesa sponsor of the Tucson Marathon, of which Im the directorhad given me a free ticket, so I was flying out of their Phoenix hub airport. Because Southwest doesnt fly into Boston, I had to fly to Baltimore and then figure out how to get to Boston. Everyone was saying, Take the train, but Id never taken a train in my life and didnt even know