The Toughest Race

For most long-distance runners, a marathon is the crown jewel – the pinnacle of human endurance. But Correspondent Lesley Stahl reports on runners who are tackling five marathons in a row.

They're called ultra-marathoners, and in their world, the toughest race of all is the Badwater Ultramarathon through a scorching desert and halfway up a mountain, all without stopping.

Last summer, 72 runners from 11 countries qualified for the race. 60 Minutes focused on the two favorites, who have had a most unexpected rivalry.

Dean Karnazes, 41, at 5'9", and 155 pounds, is a real contender. His big competition is Pam Reed, 44, who is just 5'3", and 100 pounds.

Karnazes and Reed start the race at 10 in the morning at Badwater. It'll be a 135-mile course that winds through Death Valley , a stretch of the Mojave Desert that is considered the hottest place on the planet. Temperatures can reach over 130 degrees.

The asphalt gets so hot here – up to 200 degrees - that runners stick to the white line to keep their shoes from melting. How do runners keep their feet from blistering?

"You don't," says Reed. "Part of long-distance running for me is just, it's pain management. Just, you know, you're going to have it."

"You'll get a little calf pain, and then your knee will bug you a little," adds Reed. "And then your neck will hurt, and you'll get a headache, or that'll go away. And it just, it moves around."

So you just move through it? "Yup," says Reed.

The race goes on for 30 non-stop hours. The Badwater race starts below sea level and goes up 8,400 feet to the finish line halfway up Mount Whitney, the tallest peak in the lower 48.

"Badwater has pounded me into submission," says Karnazes. "I mean, it just dropped me to the pavement at mile 70 the first year I tried it."

Why does he feel the need to put himself in conditions that a normal person wouldn't even survive? "I think it's exploration," says Karnazes. "I mean, I have a-- just a desire to see how far the human body can be pushed."

So how do you train for a race like this?

Reed, from Tucson, Ariz., has an unorthodox approach. With no coach, no nutritionist and no training schedule, she simply runs as much as she can – up to five times a day. For a mother of three, that means in the middle of the night, in between errands, or during her son's soccer practice.

In San Francisco, Karnazes trains just as hard. On weekdays, he runs up to 30 miles before his wife, a dentist, and their two kids get up and around 100 miles on weekends.

"Most people, when they hear that I've run 100 miles, the most frequent reaction I get is, 'I didn't know human beings could do that,'" says Karnazes.

It is hard to believe, as is just about everything these ultra-marathoners do. When Karnazes trains, he's out the door before dawn, running through the city streets, over the Golden Gate Bridge and into the hills.

It's believed that Karnazes has run farther than any other living person -- 262 miles in 76 hours. That's three days without sleep. But this is actually his hobby. He's president of a health food company, and sometimes, he even does his business in the middle of a run.

At the 20-mile mark, Karnazes stopped at a 7-Eleven and he wasn't the least bit out of breath. "I usually can go maybe 10 hours without feeling too much," says Karnazes. "And then, after that, it goes downhill."

At this stop, Karnazes only bought coffee. But on runs where he can burn up to 30,000 calories, he's been known to down an entire cheesecake. And get this: He's even ordered in.

"I run with a credit card and a cell phone, so when there is not a 7-Eleven around, like some of the country roads out there, I can get him to deliver a pizza to me. And I kind of give them a coordinate, a corner," says Karnazes. "It happens quite often, actually."

At Badwater, Karnazes covers up in the scorching noonday sun. He and all the runners have their crews follow along in air-conditioned vans, handing out everything from baby food to Red Bull.

By afternoon, everyone is suffering. Two runners have dropped out, and ambulances patrol the course, looking for runners in trouble.

Karnazes' blisters got so bad in one race that he had to stop for some first aid. "He [the doctor] lanced my blisters … and he stuck in a tube of Krazy Glue into the lance, and just pushed it down, and then put a piece of duct tape over it. And said, 'OK, get up soldier. Seventy more miles to go.'"

By sunset, temperatures fall into the 90s, but the course will climb a grueling 7,000 feet. You'd think that a strong, fit man would have a huge advantage over a skinny little woman like Reed. But guess what? She won this race in 2002.

"I would love to have won the women's race, so that's what I was looking for," says Reed. "And then, when I won the men, the overall, it was shocking, you know?"

It was so shocking that people thought it was a fluke, until she did it again in 2003. And that year, she beat the man everyone thought would win: Dean Karnazes.

"Coming in second is the worst thing you could ever do," says Karnazes. "Because no one said, 'You had a great finish at Badwater. You came in second. You know, you beat 76 other people.' They just say, 'You lost to Pam.'"

Reed's husband, Jim, and sons Jackson and Andrew, all agree she's a better athlete than Jim, who introduced Reed to endurance running 13 years ago.

"Slowly, but surely, she passed me by. Actually it wasn't slowly, it was probably quickly," recalls Jim Reed. "I had my problems with it, at first."

"He was not happy. He was not happy," recalls Reed. "He was mad at me. We've struggled for years with that. But now, he's OK with it."

By midnight in Badwater, 14 hours into the race, with 60 miles to go, Karnazes is ahead of Reed.

But Karnazes knows better than anyone that it's way too early to think victory. Seven more runners have dropped out by sun up, and for the survivors, who've run straight through the night, things are getting pretty dicey.

Has anyone ever studied Karnazes to see what actually goes on when someone's been physically pushed as far as he has? "They've looked at my blood," says Karnazes. "And if you just put this in front of a physician, they'd look at it and say, 'Oh, this person has had a massive heart attack."

In a heart attack, the damaged heart muscle releases an enzyme called CPK into the bloodstream. Doctors say that during a race like Badwater, runners damage so much muscle tissue in their legs, they get greatly elevated levels of CPK, too. Given the punishment, it's curious that you don't see any young people in these ultra-races.

Why isn't this a sport for 20- and 30-year olds?

"I think the best word is patience," says Reed. "When you're younger, you're going to go out like a racehorse. For this type of thing, it's not going to work. You have to be really smart and patient."

After running for 24 patient hours, every step is an agony. So why does Reed do this? "I don't know," she says. "At this moment, I love to run. But this is hard."

"I don't think I'm nuts," adds Reed. "I think I love to run. I know I do. And I have more energy for my family and for my children."

What if Reed took a day off? What would happen if she didn't run? "She gets really irritable when she doesn't run, even for a 5-hour stretch," says her husband, Jim. "Like say, we have to sit in the car for a while on a drive, she can't do it. If we stop for gas, I say, 'OK, go ahead. Go for a run. We'll get the gas and we'll maybe stop and get something to eat, and then we'll pick you up three miles down the highway.' And then she can settle down."

Reed is one of seven women in the Badwater race, which is remarkable since just 30 years ago, women were considered too fragile for long-distance running. The Olympics didn't allow a women's marathon until 1984.

But now, some researchers actually think women have some advantages in the sport. First, it's a theory that women have a higher tolerance for pain. They also metabolize fat more efficiently.

For Reed, however, being a woman had its disadvantages this time around. "In the middle, at mile 90, you know, I'm a woman, and I got my period in the middle of the race," says Reed.

After 120 miles, Karnazes needs some fuel – so he places a breakfast order with his father, for a burger and chocolate milkshake. "I guess I shouldn't tell you I own a health food company," says Karnazes. "Cholesterol, fat, bring it on."

And after the power breakfast, it's the last leg of the race up the side of Mount Whitney. Karnazes slows to what looks like an agonizing death march. But he is re-energized when he's the first to cross the finish line -- after running for 27 hours and 22 minutes.

Karnazes kisses his medal at the finish line. "I've never worked so hard," he says. "That was the hardest race I've ever run."

There's no prize money at Badwater, just a belt buckle and a pat on the back.

"In other sports, there really is a payoff, either in terms of money or fame – recognition," says Stahl.

"It's definitely below the radar for the general populace," says Karnazes. "Maybe at some point in history, ultra-running will kind of get to that level where people recognize there are humans that are really, really pushing it here. And a marathon is not the limit. You can go farther."

Pam Reed got a disappointing fourth place -- behind two men and another woman. Out of the 72 starters, 13 dropped out. All the women finished.

Both Reed and Karnazes say there will be a rematch this summer.