In Memoriam: Dr. Ralph Paffenbarger, Jr.

Dr. Ralph Paffenbarger, Jr., a pioneering researcher and runner whose achievements in both fields helped the world come to a better understanding of the aging process and to embrace the many benefits of a lifetime of physical activity, passed away on July 9 at his home in Santa Fe, N.M., at the age of 84.

Paffenbarger was a professor of epidemiology at Stanford University School of Medicine and the Harvard University School of Public Health.

Ralph Paffenbarger on Cougar Rock (click to enlarge)

His landmark College Alumni Health Study, begun in 1960, investigated the habits of more than 50,000 University of Pennsylvania and Harvard University alumni. The results of the study confirmed that an active lifestyle led to a lower risk of coronary heart disease and longer life expectancy.

His Harvard Alumni Study of 17,000 male alumni who graduated between 1916-1950 was particularly important for individuals over the age of 40. The study found that for those in their 40s, vigorous exercise predicted greater longevity and lower risk of cardiovascular disease. The study also found that as energy expended increased, the risk of heart disease decreased. Paffenbarger concluded that those who remained very active in mid-life could expect a better chance of surviving than those alumni who exercised either moderately or not at all.

Paffenbarger was more than one of the world's most influential epidemiological researchers, however. In perhaps the best personal affirmation he could find regarding his research, Paffenbarger himself began a running career in 1967 at age 45. That year, he finished the Boston Marathon in an unspectacular, if unsteady, 5 hours and 5 minutes. From that point on, however, Paffenbarger's running over the next 25 years would be marked by tremendous accomplishment, helping to re-define what constituted "old," both in the workplace and on the running roads or trails.

By age 49, Paffenbarger lowered his marathon time to 2:44 and ran 50 miles in 6:13. At 50, he ran 100 miles on a flat course in 16:42. Then, in 1977 at age 54 with his good friend Peter Mattei, 53, Paffenbarger became the oldest finisher in what is considered the world's most demanding test of running endurance - the Western States 100-mile Endurance Run.

Paffenbarger and Mattei, along with race winner Andy Gonzales, were the only runners from a starting group of 14 to finish the grueling northern California event, which takes runners from the home of the 1960 Winter Olympics in Squaw Valley through snow in the high country and then infernal heat in the canyons of the California Gold Country before finishing in Auburn, Calif.

The two friends' finishing time of 28:36 changed ultrarunning forever.

"When the Western States Endurance Run organization was formed in the fall of 1977 in the wake of the excitement following the first official Western States Endurance Run, we did feel that it must be the extraordinary YOUNG athlete who could finish in 24 hours," said race co-founder Mo Livermore, noting that Gordy Ainsleigh's historic first Western States Trail 100-mile finish was under 24 hours and run in conjunction with the Western States 100-mile Trail Ride in 1974. At the time, Ainsleigh, a gifted runner and horseman, was only 27 years old.

"It seemed obvious that the 'old guys' needed more time to traverse 100 miles in rugged country," Livermore continued. "I remember suggesting, 'OK, then how about 30 hours for our maximum time?' It seemed like a reasonable, good, round number, and everyone agreed, including Peter and Ralph, who were named to the original board."

Thus, the 30-hour cut-off for 100-mile ultramarathons was born. Today, it is considered the common cut-off for runners of all abilities whenever they tackle courses with challenging terrain, altitude and variable weather.

Livermore said the memories of Paffenbarger and Mattei's historic run in 1977 remain strong.

"Peter and Ralph were indefatigable during that first run," she said. "There was aid for them only at Robinson Flat, Last Chance, Devil's Thumb and Michigan Bluff."

The two 50ish runners arrived at the 55.7-mile mark at Michigan Bluff at 8:32 p.m., after more than 16 hours on the trail. Livermore remembered that their arrival was, "considered too late for a 24-hour finish."

But, they insisted on continuing on their own. Livermore recalled the dignified, determined strength that Paffenbarger displayed throughout the day and into the evening of the run in '77.

"Ralph would trot lightly in, big smile on his face, raving about the scenery and what a great day it was to be running the Western States trail," she said. "I believe it was one of the hottest days we've ever had, too."

Shannon Weil, Western States co-founder, said the finish of two men in their 50s, against all odds, drew a strong reaction from the horsemen and horsewomen who had finished the Tevis Cup hours before. She said their arrival at the race's formal awards ceremony was greeted with the appreciation and the warm acknowledgment of Western States Trail Ride founder Wendell Robie.

"An elated Wendell Robie stopped the program when the men arrived and profusely raved about the triumph of these two gentlemen to the point that many riders felt their own admirable accomplishments were overshadowed by Ralph and Peter's feat," she said. "It was a remarkable sight indeed."

After the race was over Robie received a thank you letter from Paffenbarger, who was known for having a gentle disposition, one that seemed perfect for either the intense quiet of a lab or the trail. The letter read: "I found it a fascinating and exhilarating experience, full of intrigue and mystique, that left me exhausted, but with fond, unforgettable memories. The conduct of the race was impeccable. The pleasantries, camaraderie, and sportsmanship of the riders was heartening. The grandeur of the trail, which must remain and be maintained in the public domain for posterity, was inspiring."

It should be noted that runners sharing the trail with riders was still considered something of a novelty. Both camps were not quite sure what to think of the other in the early years of the Western States Run. Paffenbarger's contribution - of showing that a 54-year-old Bay Area professor and MD could run 100 miles in a little more than a day and could do so with class and compassion - impressed Robie, one of the most powerful men in California and an admirer of any individual who could find ways to push limits of human endurance.

Robie reflected, in his somewhat brusque, straightforward, yet thoughtful manner, that he believed a strong sense of kinship had been formed: "Ralph stated that Peter Mattei, Paul Reese and himself would like to offer their services for future ride-runs. This is accepted. It did demonstrate the compatibility among runners and riders. Runners were viewed as heroes by the good-looking girls on horseback. There was dust by the horses and for a June Run event, the Foundation can provide equal trailside cooperation by horse-mounted helpers and staff, without mid-season dust."

"You can see how those first runners directly impacted the development of the Western States Endurance Run," Livermore said. "Peter and Ralph showed, more than any previous finisher, that it really could be done. Ralph's contributions were more, then, than just creating the prototype of the 30-hour finisher; it was much more about creating the whole race as we know it today."

Added Weil: "Ralph and Peter's performance set a new precedent and based on their 28:36 finishing time, we decided to include the 30-hour limit for slower runners who also wanted to enjoy the adventure of running across the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We have Ralph Paffenbarger and Peter Mattei to thank for creating that opportunity and that is the origin of the bronze buckle at Western States."

For Tony Rossmann, a Bay Area attorney, past president of the Western States Endurance Run, multiple finisher of Western States and friend of Paffenbarger's, there is one other Western States feat for which Paffenbarger should be remembered.

Paffenbarger's dear friend, Mattei, who passed away about 10 years ago, ran every step of the way with him in both 1977-78.

"At the Western States 100 we remember him fondly for creating two traditions: that of running the course in over 24 but less than 30 hours, and running the entire trail with a companion," Rossmann said. "Since his 1977 example more than half of the Western States finishers have been in the 24- to 30-hour range, and our two-tiered finishing order has become the national standard followed by other leading 100-milers created in our example. And just last month in our 34th running, two couples ran the entire 100 miles together."

In 1982, at age 60, Paffenberger established a Western States 60 to 69 year old age group record of 22 hours - good for a coveted sub-24-hour silver buckle. By 1993, he had finished more than 150 marathons and ultramarathons. He finished the Boston Marathon 22 times and Western States a total of five times.

Even with such great running accomplishment, Paffenbarger was not immune to health problems. He suffered a heart attack in 1990. In 1993, one week after walking the Honolulu Marathon, he suffered another heart attack at the end of an exercise-tolerance test on a treadmill. Paffenbarger was critically ill for several weeks due to complications from heart surgery. He remembered in an interview with fellow age-group running standout Paul Reese that six months passed before he was able to do daily walks of three miles again.

Yet, in characteristic fashion, Paffenbarger remained upbeat and optimistic. The researcher in him seemed to find the change from competitor to runner to recreational walker to heart attack survivor to be an interesting evolution not at all uncommon for human beings.

If anything, in his 80s, Paffenbarger sounded like a man at peace with himself, thankful that he could still enjoy the physicality and therapeutic value of a good walk.

"My not running came along suddenly," he said in his interview with Reese. "Illness demanded that I reduce my racing to running and in short order to walking. And as the months and now years have gone by, my walking has declined to the point where I am at a shuffle, three miles a day over a two- to two-and-a-half-hour period, a very sizeable change.

"My attitude remains good. My mood and thoughts are always good, and as I think about it, I get more thinking done when I am not competing and concerned about times. Walking gives me an opportunity to think about family, friends and every day events as well as my research studies. Walking is a relaxed time for me when I'm not distracted by anyone or anything, just lost in my thoughts. When I run or race, this would not come about."

In December, Paffenbarger, living in Santa Fe with his wife, Jo Ann, returned to the Bay Area for filming of a Western States oral history project. On hand were Livermore and Western States board member Doug Arnold. They both found Paffenbarger to be the same gracious, giving and good-hearted person that they had always known.

"Ralph's humility, gentle manner and inherent gratefulness for the opportunity of having been able to run on the Western States Trail came through clearly in the interview," Livermore said.

In an e-mail to friends in the hours following Paffenbarger's passing, Jo Ann Paffenbarger explained that her husband died after a long battle with congestive heart failure.

"I would love to call each and every one of you but it is just not possible at this time," Jo Ann wrote. "We are so very grateful for every one of our friends who helped enrich our lives and brought us joy."

Added Rossmann: "This is the passing of a great man, who lived a life of national significance."

In more ways than one, as a researcher, and as a runner.

Ralph Paffenbarger was a man who willingly leaped off into the unknown on a hot day 1977 on the Western States Trail, not fully knowing what would happen on that fateful day. The day was emblematic, though, of how every day of a notable life was lived.

He was a brilliant researcher, a man of science, yet his life was predicated on a much more simple premise: that for the human body to stay sound, it must have a human spirit that craves constant challenge. And because of this, his was a life of constant horizon, of constant hope, of constant friendship, of constant courage … a life of constant possibility.

Where finish lines are only in the mind, and never in the heart.

A memorial service will be held at 11 a.m. on Oct. 6 at the Stanford Faculty Club in Stanford.