Words by Oliver Rind and Sara Buzzell

That's what it says on the carpet outside Jacky Hunt-Broersma's door. She had it custom-made, for the pleasure of seeing people’s reactions when she opens the door with her prosthesis. Jacky is a world record-holding ultra-distance runner, marketing consultant, mother, wife, and leg amputee—and it's just her kind of humour to have an entrance mat that gently laughs at her condition. It’s February, and I’m in Phoenix, Arizona, where she lives with her family, to have a little confab about running, life, and the things that keep us going.

Hundreds of marathons

“I never get used to the landscape, even though I come here so often.” Jacky greets us in the middle of rocky hills and cacti under the 9 a.m. sun, in San Tan Mountain Regional Park. The dry heat is already searing. The desert changes aspect depending on the temperature, going from green when it's wet to arid oranges when it's dry. This is her turf—just 20 minutes from her home. It was here, among other places, she ran many of the kilometres of the 104 marathons completed over 104 consecutive days in 2022, a world record she still owns. She raised funds for Amputee Blade Runners, which provides running prostheses that are not covered by US insurances—certainly a cause close to her heart. As is cancer research, where she ran 250 half-marathons in 250 days—a feat somewhat overshadowed by her world record.

Jacky now calls Phoenix home, but she was born in South Africa. She lived in the Netherlands, the UK, and North Carolina before settling in Arizona, attracted to its weather, evocative of her native home. She has two teenagers, and has been married for 27 years to husband and now running coach and technician, Edwin, who meticulously adjusts her running blade and changes the sole underneath every 800 kilometres.

Of sport and adversity

In 2001, at 26, Jacky was diagnosed with Ewing's sarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. A week later, to save her life, her left leg was amputated below the knee. “It was the only option. There was no time to think. I went into survival mode,” says Jacky candidly. The way she tells it, the way she stays positive—laughing—reveals a joyful determination that gets to me. I’m 26.

Running only entered her life some fifteen years later. By her own admission, Jacky had never been much of a sporty person, nor attracted to the outdoors: “I was the kid that would hide in the bathroom when we had athletics at school.” But at a certain point, seeing her husband get into the sport, and feeling at grips with the limits that seem to be intrinsic to being an amputee, her fighter spirit got the better of her. “I don’t think I would have started running if I hadn’t lost my leg. Starting running was definitely a rebellious act because I didn’t want to fit in some amputee box, and just do something I thought I couldn’t do.” 

First, she had to get a custom-made prosthesis. Then it was a matter of adapting, getting used to running with it and adjusting it properly, so that the hips were even and the rebound matched the stride. Today, Jacky's prosthesis is even more sophisticated, better adapted to the trail running she prefers, and to its unique challenges. “Only my right foot gives me real tactile feedback from the terrain,” explains Jacky, who adds that the Altra shoes she uses help in this regard with their zero drop and wide toe box. For those wondering: yes, she wears the left shoe on her everyday prosthesis.

New projects, same intensity

This week, Jacky is in recovery mode. She ran 80 kilometres a few days ago—the first time she's covered this distance in training. She’s preparing to take part in The Speed Project, a 540-kilometre race between Los Angeles and Las Vegas. The Speed Project was originally conceived as a relay race, but in recent years, it's been increasingly tackled solo. That's what Jacky is going to do, and she'll be the first amputee to take part in the event. If, like me, you're already a little blown away and even a little intimidated by her determination, consider that for her, this is a step towards her next goal: seven marathons in seven days on seven continents, to raise money for victims of human trafficking, as part of the World Marathon Challenge. The event takes place in November.

Why all the extreme projects? Because she loves it. After going through her illness, she learned of life’s fragility, and why we have to make the most of it. Embrace imagination. Show that she's more than just an amputee. Prove that being an amputee doesn’t limit access to sports. Draw attention to the fact that running blades aren’t accessible, even though they can completely transform the life of someone who needs one.

Athlete(s) of the mindset

We cross the entrance mat at Jacky's, and we’re greeted by two family dogs, enthusiastic about meeting visitors. Her daughter is recording a video for her violin lesson. She also does horseback riding. Her son rides mountain bikes two evenings a week. Jacky works from home as a freelancer, which leaves her the flexibility to train, and to be very involved in her children's lives. 

They, too, are deeply involved in her projects. When Jacky ran her 104 marathons, they came home from school every afternoon to check on her performance, and when she lacked motivation, they were the first to remind her to persevere. It’s a busy life: between sport, work, and family, Jacky’s managing several fronts. 

We're in the garage, and she's showing me her Altra collection, shelves of well-worn shoes. She's been using them since before she was a brand athlete. I'm trying to find out more about her preparation for The Speed Project. Nutrition, game plan, equipment—you'd think these would all be top of mind for an athlete like Jacky, but how can I put it? Not so much. Her approach, serious as it is, is quite casual, in the most positive sense of the word: “At the end of the day, all we can do is our best. Show up, do as many miles as we can, and the rest, we’ll see on race day. Running has just always been mental for me, more than physical. I learned to kind of just embrace the gratitude for running and knowing that I get to do this, and I’m lucky to do it. And that really helps.”

It's not the first time I've had this thought: many endurance athletes, it seems to me, share this mindset that leaves plenty of room for the unexpected—that stays flexible rather than trying to anticipate everything. I'm thinking of Lael Wilcox, the cyclist who holds the women's record for biking around the world, or ultra-trail champion Marianne Hogan, whom we met in Cape Town last year. 

Athletes whose good spirits and endless adaptability seem to be as much the source of their astounding performances as their meticulous physical preparation.

No need to run

That’s what I take away from this encounter. Life is fragile and unpredictable, and you have to love it that way—welcoming it as it comes, actively, with commitment and determination. You have to do everything you can to live in the moment. No need to run. 

Except when you do, in which case I wish us all to approach it with as much passion and lightheartedness as Jacky Hunt-Broersma.