My Comments on the Wall Street Journal article "If Marathons Aren’t Enough Suffering for You, Behold the Backyard Ultra"

Since absolutely nobody asked me for it, here's my "Fact Check" of a recent Wall Street Journal article about backyard format races...

Article excerpt: 

"Last month at Big Dog’s Backyard Ultra team championships, Megan Eckert, a 38-year-old middle-school special education teacher in Santa Fe, N.M., made it 362.5 miles. That’s more than three days of continual running—alleviated by, she said, a grand total of two hours of sleep—“at most.” The distance gave Eckert the women’s world record by more than 50 miles.

For her trouble, Eckert received $0 in prize money. In fact, it cost her $250 to enter the race."

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While I found it to be mostly true, the author fails to recognize the true "prize" of performing well at a backyard race. Not only did Eckert receive $0 in prize money and have to pay a registration fee ($269.75 with the processing fee) to run as a member of the USA National Team, her impressive performance has most likely earned (although not guaranteed) her the opportunity to do it all again at the 2025 Big's Backyard Individual Competition, a race that sets an extremely challenging qualification standard. Yes, that is correct. If you do well enough you get the opportunity to enjoy an uncertain number of days and nearly sleepless nights of running a 4.167 mile course repeatedly until you can't do it anymore or everyone else there DNFs, whichever comes first. I write that in a somewhat facetious manner because I have witnessed Laz saying something along those lines. I believe he's used the phrase "and now you get to do it again" in a tone that seems sarcastic to me. Whether it's intended to be sarcastic or not and although I am being a bit facetious, I do mean it seriously as I do consider the opportunity to run at Big's an honor and a privilege. On team competition years (even years) you are literally on a national team representing your country and competing against teams of runners all around the world. On individual competition years (odd years), you are still representing your country as an individual competitor; I guarantee that people are looking and tracking how many runners from each country qualified and how well they perform. I view both forms of the competition as a great honor in which to participate.

Lastly, what I would consider the greatest "prize" of backyard races is the essence and spirit of the race format: to push yourself to your personal limit, to know that you gave everything you had to a race and completely drained your tank. To know you pushed beyond your previously self perceived limitations to a new personal record that you had not thought possible is the ultimate prize of the race format. Which brings me to my final point. The victor of a backyard race, the runner that outlasts all other runners that started the race, does not receive that ultimate prize. The question of how many more yards was that runner capable of completing remains unanswered leaving the last one standing uncertain of what their limit was on that particular day with the given circumstances. To me, that is one of the most intriguing aspects of the backyard race format.

Full Wall Street Journal article available here ⤵️

If Marathons Aren’t Enough Suffering for You, Behold the ‘Backyard Ultra’

https://www.wsj.com/lifestyle/fitness/marathons-backyard-ultra-running-distance-fitness-5a3def48?st=iDTfk5&reflink=desktopwebshare_permalink&fbclid=IwY2xjawGz6G9leHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHRLOduwp-wj1JIHKKv75w_BI5rXcK1n4cZf3eHvaSGbtvvIFtIASlbmhAw_aem_IQuffXrJxqn8TsWeESL5lA

2024 Bob’s Big Timber Backyard Ultra

My motivation to run Bob’s Big Timber Backyard started out almost as a joke and I failed to hit the primary distance goal I had set for myself going into it, but all things considered, I am truly happy with how it turned out and so grateful for the race experience as a whole. The joke part started during a conversation between two sleep deprived, exhausted runners after their races ended on the 57th yard at the 2023 Big’s Backyard Individual World Competition. Those two runners, neither of whom were likely operating totally rationally or at full mental capacity given what they had just experienced for the last two and a half days, were Levi Yoder and me. Only a matter of hours after our backyard races had ended, we were already talking about which races we would be running next. That’s when Levi mentioned that the Race Director for Bob’s had gold belt buckles he had been waiting to hand out to anyone who ran 200 miles or more at his race. Thus far, he had not had the opportunity to do so. I immediately commented that if we both ran his race, I think he’d be handing out at least two of those buckles. And that’s how I decided I would sign up for and run Bob’s Big Timber Backyard, to get my hands on a silly gold belt buckle.

Truth be told, the belt buckle motivating me to sign up was mostly a joke. Sure, the special gold edition belt buckle would be cool, but there were other, more meaningful, reasons for me to run Bob’s. The first being the people. I knew Levi would be running it and I always enjoy sharing miles with Levi at backyards. Plus, with it being a backyard in a state where I have never run a race before, I’d get to meet new runners from a different area which is always a fun experience. Which leads to reason number two, it was a new backyard course for me. It had been a while (several years) since I had run a different backyard course, so I was looking forward to a bit of a change from races and courses that were starting to feel like a bit of a routine. The final major motivating factor that pushed me towards running Bob’s is that we were planning to make it a bit of a family trip, not just a race I abandoned my family to go run by myself. For the most part, all those motivating factors came to fruition, factors one and two completely. Factor number three with the family came about halfway to panning out. My wife and I decided that having her care for our younger boys (1 and 4 years old) while helping to crew me was going to be a bit too troublesome, so after a bit of debate I was able to convince her that our two older boys (10 and 12 years old) would be capable of crewing me on their own. Once she connected with Levi’s wife, Carolyn, and had a contact at the race, most of her major concerns were addressed and it was all systems go!

 

The drive from NJ to OH with my older boys made for a fun road trip. The drive wasn’t too far to make in one day, but certainly long enough that I was ready to be out of the car when we arrived at the Hunter Family Tree Farm where the race is held. Upon arrival, Levi greeted us, introduced us to some of the race organizers and volunteers, and even helped us get unloaded and set up at our aid station site he had saved for us. By the time we got everything to a point that I felt it was ready to go in the morning, it felt like it had been a long day. We were all ready to relax a bit and sit down for a good meal before heading to bed for a good night’s rest. We decided to head to the Buckeye Deli which is only about 15 minutes away from the race location to try out their pizza. The buffalo chicken pizza was delish (“bustin” according to my kids)! With full bellies, we headed back to our aid/camp site at the race venue and crashed for the night.

It had been a while since I had run a race where camping was offered right at the start/finish area. It was refreshing just waking up in a tent mere feet from the starting line knowing all I had to do was dress and prep myself a bit to be in the starting corral ready to go. My boys were excited for the race to begin and to be crewing me, so we got a few pre-race photos and videos. I was so excited to have them there with me and to have them crewing me, although a bit nervous about how it would go. The time between waking up and the ringing of the three minute warning bell (Race Director, Bob Hunter, rings a bell 3, 2, and 1 time in place of the traditional warning whistles) went by fast and before I knew it we were off on our first yard to start the race.

 

I spent the first few yards just getting to know the course and conversing with other runners. Early on in the first yard, I was a bit worried about what I had gotten myself into. After running a flat lap around most of the starting area, the course dips off into the woods for the biggest and steepest descent of the day or night course. It was a really fun downhill to run, but with it being a backyard race I was taking it as cautiously as possible to avoid unnecessary wear and tear on my quads. Once you reach the bottom, the trail heads straight back up the other side. My watch (Coros Apex 2 Pro) recorded an elevation gain of 48 feet for the first mile alone. Based on the rest of my watch elevation data, each yard on the day trail course entails about 110 feet of elevation gain, so nearly half of the elevation change occurs during the first mile of every yard. Running the rest of that first yard and learning that the remainder of the course was relatively flat was a bit of a relief to me.

 

The bulk of the first day went really smoothly. It got a little warm reaching a high of about 73 °F, but with the mostly shaded trail course it never felt hot to me. As the day went on and my boys prepped food for me and kept my water bottle filled, all of my worries (would the fight with each other, would they be ok using the camp stove, would they get bored and complain, etc.) about how they would do crewing me disappeared. They actually really surprised me at one point when I realized a nut had come loose from my zero gravity chair and had fallen off. I figured I would just have to be really careful with a loose bolt supporting a part of my chair for the remainder of the race, but at the next interloopal period I came back to find the chair fixed! They had found the missing nut and tightened in back on the loose bolt to give me a pretty proud dad moment.

The first night went as smooth for me as the first day. My boys took shifts waking up to crew me between laps so they could both get a decent amount of sleep. They impressed me again with how well they handled themselves for the overnight portion of the race and took care of me.

The night road course was relatively flat compared to the day trail course; my watch elevation data showed that each yard on the night road course has about 60 feet of elevation gain. It took a few laps on the course for me to get comfortable with it, mainly because of the multiple out and backs it involved. First there was a lollipop type out and back then a short out and back, both to residences. Following that there was a little distance on the country, two lane road followed by two more out and backs. It wasn’t a bad night course but following Bob Hunter as he led the group on the first night yard on his ATV I got a little nervous at how many opportunities there were to take a wrong turn or miss a turnaround if I wasn’t paying attention or was just extremely drowsy. After a few hours of running it though, I started feeling more comfortable and less worried and was able to just coast through most of the night.

 

Day two started feeling a bit tough. It got warmer reaching a high of about 77 °F and it felt much warmer than the previous day. The heat was manageable, but I was feeling the toll of the miles on my body. My boys did everything right to keep me going. They kept encouraging me, feeding me, prepping ice bandanas and cold towels, and staying positive throughout. Even though it was feeling like a struggle at times, I still thought I had a good shot of going far and possibly being able to outlast the rest of the field. It was at some point in midafternoon that I started experiencing just a bit of pain at the back of my lower, left ankle. I didn’t think much of it at the time and just hoped it would ease or disappear completely. As the afternoon wore on though it did not disappear, it only seemed to creep a bit farther from my ankle and up to my calf. It wasn’t worsening, but the fact that it wasn’t getting better and seemed to be spreading started to concern me.

With the majority of the trail laps done for the day, I hoped that when I switched surfaces for the night laps it would improve so I soldiered on for the rest of the day trying not to give the pain much thought. The first couple of road laps did give me hope as it seemed like the ankle/calf pain went away. But over night it came back and seemed worse than at any point during the day. We worked on it and did what we could between yards: CBD pain relief cream, icing, heat pads, and some theragun work. None of it solved the problem. Somewhere in the regime of treatments I did a sock and shoe change that seemed to help for one yard, but then the pain returned just as bad as before.

By the midpoint of the night I was weighing my options. The field had been reduced at this point to just me and two other runners, Ron Wireman and Michael Stutzman. The pain was bad, but it wasn’t preventing me from running and comfortably completing the yards within the hour. I felt like I could push through it. I also wasn’t sure what kind of damage I was causing and how that would impact my training leading up to Big’s Backyard which was only about two and a half months away. My biggest concern was that I would cause enough lasting damage that would not be able to get in the training I wanted for Big’s. I was assessing how both Ron and Michael were looking, neither were showing any signs of quitting. I figured they would both likely make it through the night and once the sun rose again, who knows how much farther they would both be wiling to push? But more importantly to me, who knows what kind of shape my ankle/calf would be in? With all those thoughts and a good degree of uncertainty, but firmly believing I was making the smartest, safest decision given the circumstances, I decided to end my race during the 44th yard. I completed less than half the yard when coming back from the second out and back I had made up my mind to turn back to camp and not complete the remaining two out and backs.

 

My walk back to camp was slow and painful. It was like once I made the decision to not suppress the pain anymore it had free reign in my brain. Michael and Ron both passed me looking strong as I walked back. I was happy to have one more opportunity to wish them luck before returning to camp myself. Levi was there to greet me when I hobbled back. Him and Carolyn had been helping my boys crew me since Levi ended his race at a little over 100 miles (this was a “long training run” to build up for Big’s). I chatted a bit with the race organizers before retiring to my tent to get some rest before the sun came up.

 

After waking up I was expecting the race to go on for a while longer, maybe even into a third night. I was surprised when Michael returned back to camp during the 49th yard. He had reached the 200 mile mark and decided that was where he wanted to end his race. Ron had no problem completing the yard to take the win and the silver ticket, securing his spot on Team USA at Big’s. When the race ended far sooner than I had expected (I only woke up maybe an hour before the end) I started questioning my decision. A big wave of regret popped up. I would have been in the final two had I just stuck it out for a few more hours. As I write this, several months later, that regret no longer exists and I realize it was impulsive and reactionary. Even if I had stayed in to be the assist and challenge Ron for the win, who knows how much longer we would have gone? Who knows how much damage I would have done to my ankle/calf and how that would have affected my training for Big’s? As much as I thought about it and questioned my decision following Bob’s, I was still confident that it was the smart decision to prepare for Big’s, so there was no where near the disappointment that I felt after ending my race at Capital. I also felt zero shame about it unlike my race at Capital. With the advantage of a few months passed and knowing how my training for and my race at Big’s all played out, I am so thankful I made the decision I did and when I did. While it didn’t end exactly as I had hoped and I didn’t go home with a gold belt buckle, I did have a great time, I got to run a new backyard course, meet lots of great folks, and made some wonderful memories with my boys.


Scott Snell                                                         
15 November 2024

                                   

2024 Capital Backyard Ultra

Antifragility When Facing Failure

After 175 miles of consistently running 4.167 mile laps (yards as us backyard folk like to call them) every hour on the hour for 42 hours, I laid down on my back on the hard concrete surface of the multi-use path that is the Capital Backyard Ultra night course and stared at the night sky. I thought about how my race was now over, my decision made to return to the start/finish area after only completing the first of two out and backs required for a full night course yard. I thought about how bad my body hurt, how tired I was, and how I just didn’t seem to be able to find the fight in myself to push on through it as I have at previous backyard races. I felt like a failure. I felt weak, insignificant, and disappointed in myself. I was a quitter. I was very aware at the time that I was experiencing all those feelings as a result of my free will, my choice to end my race when it got hard. I was not happy about it, but I just could not convince myself at the time that I wanted anything that continuing the race would lead to more than just being able to have the race be over.

https://youtube.com/shorts/o5guY6qUEog?si=KC4kze3K_Zg2ocWL

It was a bit of an experience to get to the point I was at when I was laying flat on the pathway with all those thoughts swirling in my sleep deprived brain. It has been an even longer process for me to get to a point where I want to put those thoughts and experiences into words and share them. Today (November 5th as I write this) it has been a little over 160 days since I forced myself back upright to make my slow walk back to the start/finish area to officially end my race.

The race started well enough for me. The first day was smooth and my body felt good. I enjoyed catching up with the runners I already knew and chatting with runners I had just met that day. The weather was a bit warm, but nice; I had no idea how bad my attitude would get as the race progressed. The first night went well with minimal sleepiness. I got some short naps, so I should have been set up well to have a good race.

Starting to get warm.

The second day started well enough. It is always energizing and rejuvenating when the sun comes up again and switching back to the trails for the day course. I felt positive to start day two, but that would all start to change early that afternoon. For whatever reason, the motivation just began to fade as the second day wore on. It was warm, but I don’t blame the weather. I usually handle the heat quite well. This was caused by more than just unpleasant running conditions. As I pushed on and tried to turn my attitude around, it just wasn’t happening. I kept sinking lower and lower mentally.

During some of the later afternoon yards, I got so low and negative that I started thinking about how all my training runs were a waste of time. I look forward to my normal 1-2 hour training runs. They are my time to decompress, sort through my thoughts and emotions, and invigorate me to continue facing daily challenges. Yet here I was viewing them as wasted time. I don't know how many times I have replayed conversations in my head while running and reevaluated things I've said and done, oftentimes attempting to view the situation from someone else's perspective. I've left for runs upset about a recent argument or heated conversation knowing I was right and after a long run analyzing the situation and what was said have returned home knowing that I was in the wrong and owed someone an apology. Any activity that can help you experience empathy and recognize your faults while motivating you to rectify them is by no means a waste of time. But that's what I was telling myself at one point before the sun had even set for the second night of the race.

Prepped for night miles, this is gonna be awesome!

Things didn’t improve for me when we switched to the paved night course and the second night set in. I tried to grind on and at least just embrace an attitude of apathy as it seemed like the lesser of two evils compared to the negativity I was feeling. It worked for a few hours, but it wasn’t enough. I went to my Hail Mary that has saved me at previous backyards and called my wife. She said the right things, but I didn’t want to hear them. It didn’t reignite my passion or fight, but just hearing her voice and efforts to motivate me were enough to keep me grinding on for a few more hours. Several yards later, after experiencing what seemed like the worst pain at the time and difficulty in getting my legs to move at the start of every yard, I started what would be my final yard attempt. I’d force my legs to start a run as they resisted and complained with every muscle and tendon only to inadvertently revert back to a walk after a few paces. After repeating this process many times for the first half mile or so of the yard, I began to realize my race was done. There was sadness and, I’m ashamed to admit it, but also a sense of relief. A short time later, I was flat on my back staring at the dark sky contemplating it all.

Why? It’s always the “why” everyone talks about in ultrarunning. “You must know your ‘why.’” We hear it and read it all over the place: podcasts, blogs, social media etc. Having had a few months to reflect on my race, I believe my “why”, or lack thereof, is the explanation for me having the performance that I was so disappointed with. A big part of why my race ended as it did, I attribute to motivation. Honestly, my heart just wasn't in this race. I registered for Capital pretty early this year because it was a silver ticket race and because I thought it'd be really cool to be the last one standing at a race of Capital Backyard’s stature for three consecutive years. Why would someone not want that? But it takes more than just wanting that outcome because it sounds impressive to do well in a backyard race. A competitive backyard is almost sure to have low points and the “why” is what provides the motivation to push on through them. For me, as amazing and cool as a threepeat of winning Capital sounded, it wasn’t enough to for me to push myself through that second night.

Comparing my race experiences running Capital Backyard in 2023 and 2024 is almost like a textbook case of intrinsic versus extrinsic motivations. My main motivation in 2023 was to prove to myself that I could still compete at a high level at backyard ultras after my wife and I welcomed our fourth son into our family. Being a bit older as a father this time around, having three older boys to attend to and care for, and having a two-month-old baby at home made me question whether I was going to able to be competitive at backyard ultras anymore. Thankfully, I got the answer I was hoping for and was the last one standing at Capital Backyard in 2023. Contrast that with my completely shallow and extrinsic motivation (it’d be cool to say I won this race three years in a row) for running Capital Backyard Ultra in 2024 and the results are not surprising to me. In fact, the contrasting forms of motivation and results encourage me. In a sense, I believe they provide some evidence that I am running these types of races for the “right” reasons. I’m not just chasing the fame, fortune, and all the other accolades that come with doing well at backyard ultras (yes that was sarcasm there) but am running these races for my personal reasons and motivations.



Scott Snell
5 November 2024

A prerace photo with the infamous Topher Swift.