Apparently, what we call the ‘edge of space’ right now is the Kármán line, a paltry 62 miles or so (100 km) above sea level. That’s roughly the point where the atmosphere has become so thin a craft at that height might as well not have wings at all: It would need to go fast enough to orbit the Earth to maintain its altitude. (To fly in an atmosphere you need to go fast enough the wind beneath your wings supports you, which is a function of how dense the air is, with thinner air requiring higher velocity; to orbit, you need to go fast enough your momentum counters the force of gravity such that you’re constatly falling and always miss the ground, which is a function of the acceleration due to gravity, which decreases as the inverse square of your distance from the ground (don’t make me go into barycenters or I swear to Gődel I’ll make you compute the gravitational attraction between Uranus and mine). The Kármán line is roughly where those velocities are equal, rounded to a nice number of kilometers.)
(There are other definitions, such as the one we use to determine who gets to be called an astronaut.)
By comparison, a geosynchronous orbit is about 22,236 miles (or about 35,786 Canadian) above mean sea level; this is an orbit such that the craft goes around the Earth at the same speed the Earth itself rotates, maintaining a fixed position in the sky.