This past weekend, I participated in my second backyard ultra marathon. It was a test of physical endurance, mental fortitude, and adaptability. While I finished with 7 loops (29.16 miles or, if you’re counting, over 60,000 steps), which matched my performance from last year, this race was different. I completed my loops faster, and more importantly, I felt a sense of growth, particularly in my mental approach to the race. But let’s be honest, not everything was a win.
Reflecting on the Experience
One of my biggest takeaways from last year was the importance of mental endurance. Backyard ultras are as much about the mind as they are about the body. This time around, I approached the race with a refined strategy: more focused training on mental resilience and preparation for those tough moments. Whether it was the monotony of running loops (and, wow, did those loops get boring fast) or the challenge of making the most of short rest periods, I felt more in control. I even managed to keep my inner monologue in check. There was much less grumbling about the race director’s reminders to line up and more focus on the task at hand. Yes, sometimes I would yell at myself to focus as I got mentally tired.
A Musical Trick
A trick I did mid race was to switch to music I don’t normally listen to. I generally have a playlist of music I turn on when I run, but as my mind started getting the better of me, I changed to new music I haven’t heard before. It forced my brain to listen to the music and distract itself from the pain in my legs, or the pain in my head having seen that tree 6 times before already. It was a win in its own way, even though the elusive 8th lap slipped away once again.
“Flat” courses
As a newer ultra runner transitioning from road running, trail ultras continue to be a steep (sometimes literally) learning curve. The terrain challenges are no joke. On the course, I witnessed several runners tripping over roots or stumbling on rocks hidden by slippery leaves. Most popped right back up, but I one of them appeared in pain as he stepped off the course. I yelled asking if he was ok, and he replied he was, but he appeared injured as I passed him. It was like a scene from home alone with booby-traps all of the course out there. I had no falls, but did have a few stumbles (1 rock got be twice on two separate laps) and a twisted ankle. And let me tell you, “flat” in trail running doesn’t mean what you think it means. In road running, flat means no hills at all. In trail running, “flat” means “more likely to make you question your life choices as you crest the second tallest of a bunch of small climbs on the course.” Now, we aren’t talking mountain trails like you get out west, but still, flat? Nope.
This year’s failure to reach an 8th loop came down to a trifecta of challenges: mental fortitude (light-years better than last year, but still a work in progress), training (or rather, a lack thereof, thanks to job changes, kids’ activities, and generally spreading myself thinner than a pancake), and, lastly, the weather, which was truly the star villain of this year’s race.
Weathering the Elements
The weather threw its own challenges into the mix. The race started in freezing temperatures of 24°F, which made the first few laps feel more like survival training than running. While the day warmed up slightly into the low 30s, the cold stuck around like that one runner who insists they’re just “taking it easy” but somehow still passes you. Managing body heat became a constant battle. Warm while running, shivering during rest periods; rinse, repeat. It was like my body couldn’t decide whether it was training for an ultra or starring in a new clockwork orange reboot.
One thing I don’t normally do, but worked great on this race day was using hand warmers. I put them in my gloves at the start. As I mentioned in my winter running post, typically when I keep my extremities warm, the rest of my body would follow. At times, I would get so warm I’d take my gloves off to vent through my hands for 5 minutes before throwing the heaters back on. It was a win to have them, but added additional things to think about while traversing the super cold course.
And then there was the breeze, which seemed determined to remind us that yes, 9 mph is enough to feel like you’re running through a freezer aisle. With all the layers, it was sometimes hard to know it was even there, which was another of Kevin’s booby traps, I’m sure of it. Stabilizing my body temperature became almost impossible. By the time I dragged myself through my 7th loop, the cold had drained whatever energy I had left. My body was begging for a warm blanket and a hot bath. Looking back, I can’t help but think this post-race cold was a foregone conclusion. It was an upper respiratory cold. Mostly in the throat and lungs. Mucus for days. Away from the gross…
A Glimpse at the Stats
Here’s how my race unfolded:
- Total Distance: 29.16 miles (7 loops) and another .5 miles total in walking during rest periods.
- Average Pace (Running Laps): 12:18 per mile
- Max Heart Rate: 165 bpm
- Elevation Gain: 1,148 feet (only 100 feet shy of the Empire State Building)
Each loop posed its own challenges and opportunities for improvement. Early loops were crowded and the first mile of each loop included choke points when a roadway turns into a single track trail littered with roots and rocks. This meant, the first 1 mile was a lot of stop and go. The miles after offered better, but still very challenging terrain, allow you to run as much or as little as you, or the clock, dictated.
Here’s a breakdown of my pacing and effort:
| Lap | Distance (mi) | Time | Avg HR (bpm) | Avg Power (W) |
| 1 | 4.16 | 49:08 | 147 | 264 |
| 2 | 4.17 | 48:13 | 152 | 272 |
| 3 | 4.16 | 49:44 | 150 | 257 |
| 4 | 4.18 | 50:12 | 152 | 258 |
| 5 | 4.20 | 50:30 | 152 | 252 |
| 6 | 4.18 | 52:03 | 146 | 245 |
| 7 | 4.20 | 56:59 | 145 | 220 |
My goal was consistency, and I’m proud of the pacing improvements compared to last year. I was a little faster each lap, but I felt better each lap. You can see as I began to falter on lap 6 and how I barely trudged out lap 7.
A Stronger Community
One of the highlights of this event was the camaraderie. Backyard ultras create a unique atmosphere: part competition, part collective perseverance. Watching others push their limits, recover, and start again was inspiring. I didn’t stick around all night, but did keep close eyes on the results each hour from my warm clothes, inside my house, with the heat on.
This year’s winner completed an astounding 27 laps (112.5 miles), with consistent pacing that showed he still had more left in the tank. His lap times remained impressively steady, even speeding up toward the end. Ultimately, he probably could have kept going if he had to; a testament to his incredible stamina and mental toughness.
To put this in perspective, the current world records for backyard ultras are truly awe-inspiring. In October 2024, Belgian ultrarunners Merijn Geerts, Ivo Steyaert, and Frank Gielen each completed 110 laps (458.33 miles or 737.61 km) during the Backyard Ultra World Team Championships, setting a new benchmark for endurance in this format. Reuters
On the women’s side, Megan Eckert set a new world record by completing 87 laps (362.5 miles) at Big Dog’s Backyard Ultra in 2024, surpassing the previous record of 74 laps held by Jennifer Russo. Outside
These records highlight the sheer grit and resilience of ultra runners and serve as a source of motivation for anyone stepping into this unique and grueling format.
Personal Community
I always preach how you need to have a good personal community around you, a race crew. This race was no different. Kelly would massage my legs after a yard was completed, which was a total necessity, of which I’m forever thankful. Billy would greet me at the finish with a hug asking “Are you going to quit?” I’d tell him “No, not yet”, and his response would be a great big cheer. Ben and Charlie were always available for a run by high five, a wave, and a “go Dad”. These are the moments that make all of the hard work and heartache worth it.
Looking Ahead
This race reinforced that there’s always room for improvement. Whether it’s better preparing for weather, refining nutrition and hydration strategies, or simply working on mental grit, every run teaches you something new. As I recover and reflect, I’m already looking forward to my next adventure on the trails and maybe the roads too.
To all of you out there, keep pushing, learning, and embracing the journey. And if you’re considering your first backyard ultra, my advice is simple: plan meticulously, stay adaptable, and trust in your ability to overcome. The rewards far outweigh the challenges.
