Backyard ultramarathons are a weird type of last man standing competition. It’s a battle of never-ending endurance. The strategies required to succeed defy all traditional “racing” ideologies. I ran my first backyard ultra recently and failed to get anywhere near my planned goals. I had a difficult time trying to grasp the format and still have mixed feelings about the whole thing. This is a post about my experience running a backyard ultra and my thoughts on the format. I have no desire to do another one anytime soon, but I keep finding myself thinking of improvements and strategies that could help me last longer. I will never say never, one day I may return to the torture chamber for more punishment.

The Event

There had never been a backyard ultra in Tassie. One was planned a few years back then cancelled. When the Greenvale Backyard Ultra was announced it caught my interest. It came from a place of curiosity. I have seen and heard so much about these events and was interested in seeing what it was all about. Ziggy was also interested so we both signed up. There was $5k prize money up for grabs that also enticed us up until Ryan Crawford who has a PB of 95 laps entered and we lost all hope of winning. When race week finally arrived I felt quite unprepared having focused all of my training on the GPT Stage Race. I was neither mentally nor physically prepared for the challenge of the backyard ultra.

Planning

Ziggy and I thought a backyard ultra would be an “easy” way to run 100 miles in 24 hours, so this was our initial goal. But then we both started thinking that running 200km would be awesome. Goal posts moved to 30 hours. Having not put much thought into the event or preparation I was starting to worry that I was majorly underestimating the difficulty of what I was about to undertake.

✅ Performance Goals

• 24 laps (100 miles)
• 30 laps (200km)

We packed an assortment of camping gear; a gazebo, esky, camp chairs, sleeping bags etc. I asked Dad to come along as crew and Ziggy had the support of Miranda for the initial stages of the race. A smorgasbord of food was brought. I planned to drink a flask of water and eat a gel while running then eat extra food between loops. I now know that a more robust plan is required to succeed in these things.

The Course

When we signed up there was no course information available. We had suspicions that it would involve laps around a paddock but we didn’t anticipate the shape of the course being so repetitive. When the course was revealed our worst fears were realised. It was likened to an airport queue.

Race Day

Driving into Forth we are surrounded by rolling grassy hills, it is picturesque. The weather is favourable, sunny, clear and still. Ziggy and Miranda arrive shortly after and we setup our base camp amongst the gazebo jungle. It reminds me of setting up at Falls festival, there is a good vibe amongst the campers. There’s even a guy next to us with enough alcohol to last a full festival. We feel good and exited, many of us first timers unaware of the suffering we are about to endure.

Lap 1: Initiation

The race starts with the ring of a bell. It is the most subdued start line I have ever been on. There are no prizes for winning a lap so no motivation to go fast. Everyone just jogs extremely slowly and soon we are walking up the first hill towards the big paddock. Atop the first climb we get awesome views out to Bass Strait and back inland we see Mt Roland, Black Bluff and the Dial ranges. At least the monotonous course provides nice scenery.

There’s a little out and back that looks out to the water. Ziggy and I entitle this high point Greenvale summit. Then it’s onto the many avenues of the paddock. We name them 1st to 9th Avenue and get to know each avenue intimately.

I chat with runners as we make our way around the first lap. It is a struggle to maintain a sensible pace. A 6.7km lap doesn’t seem like much but it’s not an insignificant distance when you’re out there running it. The paddock is incredibly rough under foot. I run along at a super slow pace which feels easy but I am actually starting to feel uneasy about the challenge ahead. This first lap is a glimpse into what lies ahead and I am already starting to psych myself out.

Lap 2 – 6: Easy Going

These early laps go by slowly and monotonously. Ziggy and I finish most of our laps in under 45 minutes which gives us a lot of time to sit around. We get impatient while waiting and while running but the hard part is that no matter how fast you run you still have to wait till the hour to start another lap. Our long rest times allow us to eat and drink a lot. The slower pace and time of day makes me feel ravenous and I am shovelling in the food at each rest.

Laps go by slowly and we feel bored by the slowness and easiness knowing we have to get through this stage before the challenging stuff truly begins. Each lap I drink my flask, eat my gel and stop to do a wee in almost the same place. Ziggy starts speed running laps and he wins the laps and I come second. The faster running feels more natural than slowly plodding but I wonder if people are judging us as idiotic for running too fast, it probably wasn’t the wisest strategy.

As we speed run our laps our campsite neighbour, Craig (Craigscans), is running them super slowly. He is drinking an alcoholic beverage on each lap as a fundraiser for Tasmanian Land Conservancy. If someone donates $50 they are allowed to choose his next drink. We see him drinking cruisers, a pint of Guinness, beers and even chocolate milk with Baileys. We are all dubious of his strategy but he will go on to prove all of the naysayers wrong.

Lap 7 – 10: Getting Harder

At lap 7 we are still in the early days of the event but the fatigue is already setting in. We have been running for 7 hours and are approaching the 50k mark. I find it hard to maintain motivation and there is still so much further to go if I want to achieve what I set out to do. This is my greatest challenge for this event, I cannot find a source of motivation.

Our feet are starting to feel the impact of the paddocks. We both do multiple foot lubrication and self preservation attempts in our mid lap breaks. People have started dropping out by now and I am already feeling jealous of them. I start to feel nauseous on one of the laps. Ziggy feels fine and I feel nauseous. Then the next lap I feel great and Ziggy feels nauseous. We seem to be alternating having good and bad laps. Thankfully after each bad lap we are both seemingly able to recover. Running a slower lap seems to revive me temporarily.

I think I am overhydrating and overeating so I start drinking a little less each lap and holding back on the food during the mid lap breaks. It’s a funny event where I spent much of the time running near or ahead of Ryan Crawford. Knowing his history I know he is probably going to win and is probably winning but technically no one can be winning in this event till the end. It’s a weird feeling running alongside the winner who actually isn’t the winner yet.

Ziggy and I both start running with headphones to help find motivation and disassociate from the drudgery. I find it helps a lot and I enjoy running to different genres each lap then having a lap of silence every now and then. When we pass the 64km mark I am running with Luke Budd who ran the Bruny ultra a few weeks earlier in under 5 hours, he says this 64km is way harder than Bruny. I agree, it feels like a tough way to run the distance. The stop start nature of each lap is no good. I would rather continual movement. The rest between laps isn’t rejuvenating but rather stiffness inducing.

Lap 11 – 17: Riding the Rollercoaster

Looking back I struggle to delineate between each lap. They blur together in my memory. Just before sunset we had 3 minutes till the start of the next lap when a lady came around telling us that there were pizzas at the start line. The prospect of pizza was enticing, Ziggy and I foolishly grabbed a piece each to carry into our next lap. The pizza tasted amazing but it did not sit well. Despite the discomfort this was one of my more memorable laps. The golden hour sunlight was glorious and the initial stages of the lap were enjoyable but everything went downhill as the pizza rattled in my stomach.

I limped back to the finish, stumbled to the gazebo and straight onto the ground putting Dad to work trying to revive me. Once I was laying down I started to feel better and was even taking photos and posting on Instagram. When the three minute whistle blew I was able to get going again. Getting up from the ground was extremely hard. I grabbed my headtorch and headed into the night.

I was in a cycle of good lap bad lap, Ziggy was the same. My first night lap is a lot better than the pizza lap. It is a tough cycle. Each bad lap makes me consider calling it quits, but I am still so far from any of my goals. It’s hard to conceptualise running so many more laps to reach the goal. Each time I fight the urge to give up is a little victory but I wonder how many more of these I can endure.

The night time laps remain difficult but the cooler conditions suit me. It is nice while running but we freeze when resting between laps and our legs and hips seize after sitting or laying down. I run some laps with music again and others in mostly silence. The chatting amongst runners has reduced significantly now we are all feeling the effects of fatigue. There is a particularly enjoyable night time lap where the full moon emerges from behind the clouds and we can see fireworks from Ulverstone.

Eventually we set off on our 15th lap, this is a milestone for many because it is the lap that takes us over 100km. One bloke speed runs the lap, he is obviously going to pull out after this one. I continue plodding and fighting the urge to drop out. Determined to run at least a few more laps.

My 16th lap is a major struggle. I had been fighting the internal desire to stop for so long and the laps kept getting harder. I think about the futility of this event. The laps are endless and seem pointless to me. My internal dialogue was arguing about whether to continue towards sunrise or just stop and lay down. I started telling myself that I don’t need to keep going.

I manage to survive the 16th lap and get back to camp. Ziggy is going through a similar race existential crisis. We have lost our way. Dad remained encouraging saying we only had a few more laps till sunrise. We agree to head out for another lap. When the whistle blows getting myself up off the ground is a painful task. My hips hardly move. The rests between laps was making me worse than if I could just keep running. Once we got going again my legs remembered how to work again. My main issue was GI distress. My stomach was painfully sloshing around and the nausea is coming in waves.

I considered stopping at the midpoint portaloo but opted to continue onwards. In retrospect I probably should have stopped to ease the pain but I stubbornly pushed on. As the lap progressed I gradually started to convince myself that it would be my last lap. It was a funny lap. We ran in a group of about 6 other guys, all bunched up and in complete silence. Just grinding it out. We even ran up all of the hills we would usually walk up. It was like we were in a trance. A painful trance that I wanted so badly to end.

Pulling the Pin

Just before finishing my 17th lap I stopped into the portaloo and experienced an explosive outcome. I finish with 5 minutes till the next lap. I told Ziggy and Dad that I was done, neither of them tried that hard to convince me to keep going, they understood.

When the warning whistles blew Dad suggested that I at least head out on the lap then turn around. This was a smart tactic because once I was up there I briefly considered heading out again but the temptation of bed took over and I turned around and officially withdrew. I thought I would have felt disappointed but I mostly felt relief. At the time I was totally happy with my decision, my suffering had mostly ended. Now I was just left with the lasting pain and fatigue of running 115km. Ziggy headed out on another lap but dropped out after that one. He said once I dropped out he lost motivation.

We were both going into self preservation mode and decided we’d rather not ruin ourselves for a whole week just to get a few more laps. At least this was one of the ways we justified our decision to drop. I put myself to bed on the ground under our gazebo and lay with my legs throbbing before drifting into a delirious slumber. I vaguely recall Ziggy finishing but I woke many times not knowing if he was finished or not and waking when I heard the whistles, bells, runners and cheers.

Aftermath

Ziggy and I woke with the brightness of sunrise to see many battlers still out running. Ryan Crawford was still running strong. Markus who I have shared many miles with in the past was still smashing it and John Cannell our gazebo neighbour was still cruising. We were incredibly surprised to see Craig still going, he would go on to make it to 24 laps and 100 miles ran, proving his unorthodox nutrition and hydration strategy to be viable.

Ziggy, Dad and I slowly packed up our gear and left with our tails between our legs. I was actually so happy to be leaving, looking at the other runners still going made me feel sick. I was in a pretty rough state and the prospect of running more paddock laps was repulsive to me.

Over the day we continued to watch updates to see who was still going. It ended up being down to three runners; Markus, John and Ryan. Markus made it to a super impressive 32 laps. John continued into the second night and dropped out after 36 laps with Ryan taking the win with 37 laps. In the world of backyard ultras these numbers are quite low, but to me after experiencing the event they are still impressive. And it makes the world record of 110 laps seem absolutely unreal.

My Thoughts on Backyard Ultras

I have mixed emotions about this race format. In the latter stages and after finishing I was certain that I’d never do one ever again. Unlike most races this one brought me little joy. I like running at my own pace which is generally faster than what is wise for this type of competition. The slowness with no end in sight really messed with my head.

I kept thinking about what people say about ultras being ‘all mental’. I’ve always considered this to be a cliché and that fitness, training, motivation are all essential components to running ultras. But with this type of event I think the mental aspect is the most important. In a normal race there is a distinct finish line. Knowing there is a finish in sight gives me a purpose to my suffering and I can internally bargain with myself to push on to the end. When there is no end my normal hard bargaining does not compute.

Ryan Crawford seemed to cruise through the event, consistently getting lap after lap done. After the event I followed him on Strava and watched this documentary (link) about his running. He has become somewhat of my running guru. He has a massive focus on training his mind. His Strava activities are more than just a run, they are a run with meditation and visualisation. I am inspired by his holistic and methodical approach.

I finished saying ‘never again’ but spent the whole week after thinking about things I would do differently to improve. The race that tortured me so much is now firmly implanted in my mind. There will likely be another attempt. I need to train my brain and see what is possible. Having conviction and grit is essential to succeed at these events.

Tired but Inspired

I make this event sound bad but despite my suffering I did enjoy the experience. It is such a social event and the start line area has a festival vibe. I think variety in the events I run keeps the sport interesting and helps me stay motivated to train. It reduces the monotony of training and running the same events all year round.

In the week after I was inspired to hit the trails again and found so much joy running on trails rather than on a paddock. A backyard ultra is a true stoic challenge and there is much to be learned from participating in them. Hopefully at my next one I run a few more laps.

Photo Credits: Cover photo by Val Warwick