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.

A Tale of Two Training Runs

After I was done pouting about what I considered a disappointing performance at Capital Backyard last month, I decided that I had become too comfortable with my training. I was no longer practicing “getting comfortable with being uncomfortable” or acclimating myself to the discomfort that is almost guaranteed to occur at some point during a multiday backyard race. So I decided to induce some discomfort during my longer training runs as I begin my build up for my next race. My goal was to cover 25 miles with a 20 ounce bottle of water and single SIS gel for my first long run. It was successful in causing a good degree of discomfort, but I bailed on the plan and made an aid stop after a little over 21 miles. After quickly chugging some water and cola, I got back out and finished the last 4 miles feeling great. The goal for my long run the following weekend was 20 miles with the same amount of water and single SIS gel. It was pretty uncomfortable in the heat of the day again, but this time I exceeded my target and covered 21 miles. Will intentionally making my training runs less comfortable help me at my next backyard ultra? Who knows, but I’m excited to find out!

Scott Snell 

21 June 2024

2024 Dogwood Ultramarathons 48 Hour

It’s been almost a month since running my first 48 hour race as I begin to write this report, so I’ve had plenty of time to digest and reflect on the experience. Of course, that also means I’ve had plenty of time for the details and my memory of the experience to become a bit faded and less reliable. Even so, I hope to still present an accurate recollection of the experience as best I can. I’m sure I’ll still get all of the major points correct: I had a big goal, it was going well, weather and trail conditions got bad, my main goal became unattainable, and eventually I settled for a new goal to stay motivated to continue. That’s the summary without any of the details or my thought process throughout. If that sounds like it could be interesting, here’s the full story.
  

I had been considering the possibility of attempting a six day race ever since running for 75 hours at Capital Backyard Ultra last year. With my inexperience in longer timed races fueling me, my naive thought was that if I can last for 75 hours in a backyard format race I should be capable of putting up a solid performance in a six day timed race. Although I was pretty confident of that at the time, and still am, I didn’t want to do anything too rash and just dive into a six day race with the longest timed race I’ve ever done having only been a 24 hour. That was my reasoning for attempting a 48 hour race this year, to test the waters of a longer timed race event. I wanted to see how my motivation would hold up for 48 hours without being forced to hold the required pace at a backyard format race. Which made my target mileage goal pretty simple for this attempt, to hit 200 miles in under 48 hours and then see how I felt and how much farther I could go before time ran out.

I began searching for 48 hour races not too far from home that wouldn’t conflict with other races on my schedule for the year or work and family plans. I finally decided that the Dogwood Ultramarathons at Twin Lakes State Park in Green Bay, VA was the race best suited for me to make this test run. It seemed like it was fate pushing me there as this was the first year the race offered a 48 hour option and the timing was good for all other aspects of my pretty crowded schedule. The course is a 3.35 mile trail loop with about 246 feet of elevation gain which makes for about 7,380 feet of gain for every 100 miles when you do the math. Based on elevation, this didn’t sound like a ridiculously challenging course to attempt two consecutive sub 24 hour 100 milers so I felt like my A goal was well within the realm of possibility. I wasn’t able to find any information on how technical the course was, but from the pictures I had seen everything looked runnable. Without finding anything to discourage me or think otherwise, I registered for the race with a pretty high confidence level of reaching my A goal of exceeding 200 miles.

My training went splendidly and I arrived the morning of the race feeling rested and ready. Although I felt a bit rushed between arriving at the venue and the start of the race, the first day started off really well. The course wasn’t very technical, just a few roots and rocks to remain aware of. The two water crossings were a non factor the first day as the water level was low enough that a couple steps on rocks and you were across with dry feet. The elevation changes were mild with just a few short climbs and descents, none of which were steep or treacherous. I ran my first few laps under my target past comfortably and learned the course. There were a few trail intersections, so you just had to be careful at a few points to make sure you didn’t inadvertently go off course but the course marking made it pretty foolproof.

Everything was going great for me pretty much the whole first day. I felt good and was on pace to get 200 miles in with plenty of time to spare. I didn’t feel like I was over exerting myself to maintain the pace. My stomach felt good and I had no sign of any digestive issues. It seemed like everything was falling into place as I hoped. The only factor left that I was concerned about was the weather. Forecasts predicted storms and steady rain starting overnight after the first day of the race and continuing through the end of the race. The forecasts were pretty accurate; it started raining lightly not long after dark. After a few hours of light rain, it picked up. The trail got sloppy and slick in spots. The water rose at the two water crossings. I got damp and chilled. I tried to just keep moving and run through it, but it was taking a toll on my pace and mental state. After multiple clothing changes and a fall at an especially slick turn on the trail I found myself back at the aid area shivering, feeling pretty chilled. I was at about 84 miles at that point and had been steadily slowing down. The rain was coming down heavy enough that putting on dry clothes had become pretty pointless. I decided it’d be best for me to get warmed up and dried off while at the same time getting in a nap so I could recover a little. It was around 3 AM and I decided to go to my car to do just that.

I hoped it would work out that I’d be rested and refreshed and the bad weather would be over when I woke up. Unfortunately, I woke up to the sound of rain hitting my windshield. I had slept a few hours and felt ok, but really wasn’t feeling like getting chilled and running in the rain for another 24 hours. I checked the forecast and it was promising, reporting that the rain should clear out within an hour. This gave me a bit of hope. My A goal was most likely out of reach at this point, or at least much harder to achieve. I checked the race live results to find I was still in the lead, but my lead had been reduced to a pretty narrow margin. Clinging to the lead became my new motivation for going back out and finishing the race. I thought about just packing it in and going home, but continuing to move to hang on to the lead is what drove me back out to run.

Once back out on the course, I was surprised at the first turn when new runners for shorter timed races took a different route. After a quick chat, I found out that the course had been rerouted due to the water crossings becoming too dangerous to cross because the water had risen so much from the steady rain. The course was now a 1.1 mile loop around a lake near the start/finish aid station. Ok, no big deal I thought. During the first loop I learned how much of an impact the rain really had on the trail conditions. A good stretch of the new course was on trail and much of it was a sloppy mess from all the rain. I’d estimate about a half mile was shoe sucking mud. If you’ve ever tried to run on shoe sucking mud, you know how difficult it is to maintain any kind of decent pace. Especially when you have around 100 miles on your legs already. After becoming accustomed to the new trail conditions, I accepted the fact that my 200 mile goal was now definitely out of reach. Without having my A goal to chase, I continued to plod on “running” laps on trails of standing water hiding ankle deep shoe sucking mud.

To make a long story short. It wasn’t much fun from that point on. It was tedious and slow going. It was a constant mental battle. But I didn’t quit and I hung on to the lead being pushed by the second place runner (Aaron Bowers) until about 3 AM. At that point, I felt like my first place finish was almost a guarantee based on the pace Aaron had been running for the last few hours and the amount of race time left. What I was most proud of was that I managed to push on through terrible trail conditions and falling temperatures (it got quite cold and windy after dark that second night) for another 70 miles during the second half of the race to finish with 154 miles total. A huge thank you to Aaron for continuing to push on as without him steadily adding to his distance, I likely would have called it and quit much earlier than I did.

I may not have hit my A goal, but I did go home with a valuable lesson. I was reminded that variables completely out of my control like the weather and trail conditions could have a huge impact on overall performance at a longer timed race. I guess that should be pretty obvious, but having a refresher lesson in the fundamentals never hurts. Additionally, the longer the race goes, the higher the likelihood that one of these events will occur just by the window of opportunity being extended. So how does one control a variable such as inclement weather to be sure it doesn’t have a chance to impact your race? The answer is simple, select a timed race event held at an indoor race venue. Which leads to what may be my target, my A race next year: Six Days in the Dome.

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Scott Snell

5 June 2024

2024 April Monthly Mileage Check In

Monthly mileage check in! A little over 335 miles for me in April, just slightly less than March (350) so I did not follow my regular monthly mileage volume build up to prepare for a big backyard race. The reason for that is that I decided to run a 48 hour race in March, Dogwood Ultramarathons, where I accumulated many more miles than I would have during my normal training routine. Since I am a big believer in the value of consistency, I feel like my 335 miles in April made for a better training block than my 350 miles in March where nearly half of those miles were run in a single weekend. This year’s April training block was a slight increase over last year’s April training (322 miles) leading up to Capital Backyard Ultra. Hopefully that means I am as well prepared this year as I was last year. Physically, I feel like I am. Mentally, I feel ready to test my limits again. I don’t know how far I’ll run, who will run with me, or what challenges I’ll face along the way, but that is all part of the fun and adds to the sense of adventure that the backyard format brings. As of now, my at large spot on Team USA for the international backyard team competition is probably pretty safe. But if it is going to be threatened, it will probably happen at Capital which is one of my main motivations for running Capital again this year. That and the fact that I just think it is a great race with a great vibe and amazing support for the runners. I’m not saying that it will happen, but I’d love to be able to better my backyard PR at Capital this year!


Scott Snell
5 May 2024

When a Run is a Sigh of Relief

Today’s run was like a great sigh of relief for me. I had a sudden and stark reminder of my age this week and had thought that it could pretty severely impact my training for Capital Backyard Ultra. The issue was the primary cause as to why I decided to take an unplanned rest day yesterday. The issue was some pretty serious back pain caused by my ego and a pretty poor decision. It all started a few days ago when I decided to move a box. It wasn’t a big box but it was dense, packed tightly with books. When I first lifted it I thought to myself, “hmm… this is a bit heavier than I was expecting, but I can handle this.” I successfully moved the box and didn’t think much more of it until a few hours later when my back started aching. Then it got worse as the evening progressed. I decided I’d still run that night even if it was hurting. I figured I would get through it and it would be fine tomorrow without impacting my training at all. I was wrong. It actually seemed a bit worse the day after the causal event occurred. Ibuprofen didn’t seem to help much and by the time came in the evening when I had a chance to run I was pretty worn out altogether and tired of being in pain so I decided a rest day was in order and I went to bed early. I got up today hopeful and put my socks on with less back pain than yesterday. “That’s an improvement,” I thought. I didn’t take any painkillers all day and the pain seemed far more tolerable than yesterday. Good, now for the real test, time to go for a run. The run was mostly pain free and my legs felt better and were moving faster than normal at my standard easy effort pace. I had planned to do my standard two trail lap route which is about 12.5 miles. By the halfway point I had decided I’d add a little extra distance with a bonus short trail loop.

This run was the biggest relief I’ve felt in awhile. I feared the worst yesterday when the pain was at its worst. I thought I may have to take several days off from running. I thought this was going to derail my entire training block leading up to Capital. My training had been going so well, and here I thought I just blew it all by moving a stupid box. Thankfully, today’s run was a beautiful sigh of relief, like waking up from a nightmare that seemed so real in the moment. It also reminded me of a lesson I am still in the process of learning: that I’m not as young as I used to be. My buddy that’s a little older than me said to me a few years ago that I’m at a tricky age because in your 40’s your body is aging but you still think you can do everything you did in your 20’s. I’ve experienced a few life lessons that have reinforced this statement. This box incident is just the most recent of them.

So what’s the moral of this story? I guess it’s to not let that fragile ego of mine lead me to making stupid decisions. Not that I think I have a huge ego, but I could have very easily just bailed on lifting that box when I realized how much heavier it was than I expected. And I am willing to admit that I do have a bit of an ego which probably does contribute to some poor choices. But I think you have to have a bit of an ego to chase after backyard ultra success. I mean the format itself reeks of ego. Contenders looking to win have to tell themselves “I’m going to go run 4.167 miles every hour on the hour until every other runner quits, times out, is injured, or can not continue for some other reason. Then I will stop. Even if it means running for multiple days and nights.” I thought about this during my run today and couldn’t stop thinking about George Carlin’s bit about how golf is an arrogant, elitist, mindless, and boring game. While thinking about it, I couldn’t help but acknowledge some similarities between golf and backyard ultras. I’ve got nothing against golf, I’m just a fan of George Carlin and find his stand up funny. What he would have said about backyard ultras kept going through my head while running today. I could hear his voice in my head while running, “these assholes out there running for days. For days! How obnoxious! And boring! So boring. Can’t these pricks just run a few hours and go home? You’re all winners. You all ran far!” Hopefully I didn’t offend anyone with this post, golfers or backyard runners. It’s all meant to be good fun and lighthearted. If you want to see the Carlin bit I was referring to, you can check it out here:

After many years, I still find it pretty funny!

Scott Snell
19 April 2024