Christine Reed's favorite record-breaking memoirs by women on trails

I loved Thirst because it rebuts the common criticism in the trail-recording-setting world, “You can’t enjoy the beauty of a place when you’re moving that fast.”

Heather’s descriptions of the natural world beg to differ. She writes as poetically about stunning landscapes, wildlife, and foliage as she does about her screaming feet and her innate desire to push herself to extremes. As a reader, I felt like I was right there with her for the beauty and the pain. 

I loved To The Gorge for a lot of reasons, one of which was that Emily’s story resonated deeply with me for personal reasons.

I too lost my mother to cancer, and I too grieved on trail. But in as many ways as I felt our stories to be parallel, they were also disparate. Running was something she and her mother had had in common, and she went out to set this record in her mother’s honor, which I just thought was so beautiful and powerful.

I loved the way she told the story, which carried her mom’s memory so thoroughly, but which felt like it brought joy to that intention, something that can be hard to do during loss.

What I loved most about Unsupported is that it isn’t just a snapshot of the highest point in Bethany's trailrunning career. She shares the story of her two failed attempts on the route and all the self-doubt she carried on the final attempt.

I thought her vulnerability, even as a very decorated athlete in the sport, was so relatable—especially trying something for the third time. I also thought that her efforts to highlight mental health struggles and how they seemingly affect nearly everyone were poignant and often left out from stories like these.

This book stands apart from the rest of my selections because it isn’t a personal memoir, but a history of the sport—specifically a history of records held on the Appalachian Trail.

I loved getting a holistic top-down look at how records have been set and fallen in the last 40 years or so on one of the [now] most competitive trails.

I’ve always been fascinated by the cultural obsession with the AT, and it was my first trail love, so it was so interesting to read about legends of the trail whose names will surely have crossed your awareness if you’re a fan of BNOTs (Big Name on Trail) past and present.

I loved Mud Rocks Blazes because Heather is not just an amazing athlete who writes beautifully about the outdoors. She is also somebody who suffers from imposter syndrome and speaks in a way about her accomplishments that feels so relatable.

Like “Did I really do that?” and “Does it count if I’m not sure I could do it again?” I won’t lie, when I picked up this book, I wondered if it would be a rewashed-rerinsed version of Thirst—but was surprised and delighted to find such an evolution in Heather’s story.