2023 Big's Backyard Individual World Championships

Prerace photo with my awesome crew man, Marty!

 

DNF Number Two

I’ve run Big’s Backyard for the last two years and both years I put in more training and preparation than I had for any other race. And both years the course sent me home feeling defeated after serving me up with a heaping pile of humble pie. Coming up short of your goals and facing failure can be tough and is usually not a pleasant experience, but it can also be a learning experience that helps us grow and improve in our pursuit. With a few weeks between me and my second DNF at Big’s, I feel like I’ve handled this one emotionally better than the first and I am certain I have learned from this one.

This year’s edition of Big’s Backyard was the Individual World Championship competition, so slightly different from last year’s World Team Competition. The backyard international championship competitions are currently conducted annually alternating between an individual competition (on odd years) held on the original backyard course in Bell Buckle, TN and national team competitions (on even years) run remotely as a satellite competition at the home course of each team. The standard backyard rules apply for both types of competition, but there are some intricate differences between the two types of competitions.

Let me back up a quick second to give a brief description of the “standard backyard” race format for anyone reading who may not be familiar. Basically, it is a race of attrition without a set distance. The race continues until only one runner remains. Hence, these races are also referred to as “last person standing” races. So how are runners eliminated? By not completing a 4.167 mile lap every hour on the hour. Every hour all runners start a lap and must finish before the end of the hour. If they finish early, they must wait until the start of the next hour to start their next lap. With that caveat, this race prevents any runner from building a lead. The cycle of on the hour lap starts continues indefinitely until all but one runner has opted to not continue running or has timed out. The last runner remaining must run one complete lap more than all other runners within the hour time limit before being named the winner. 

Since this was my first time competing in the Backyard Individual World Championship, it felt much different than last year and felt like a pretty big deal to me. I had some really high hopes for my performance and my lowest goal in my set of cascading goals was to improve my PR of 62 yards for the course. Unfortunately, I failed to reach my lowest goal and my remaining goals only went up from there, far out of my reach.

Day 1:
The first day on the trails felt good overall and actually went by pretty quickly. The first 11 hours on the trail felt relatively easy compared to how difficult I remembered the trail being from last year. I spent much of the day meeting and chatting with some of the best backyard runners from all over the world. The rest of the day was spent catching up with the American runners that I ran with as a part of Team USA last year. Some of them I had run with only a few months earlier at Capital Backyard Ultra, but others I had not seen since last year at Big’s. With all of the socializing and just refamiliarizing myself with the trail and my time check points, the first day of trail yards was over before I knew it. It seemed minor at the time, but I was having some intestinal issues and making more stops at the porta potties than I probably should have. I figured it was just nerves and would get better as the race progressed, but in hindsight it may have been more akin to the “pebble in the shoe” analogy where it seems like a minor inconvenience until it leads to a painful blister that really can’t be fixed.

 

Night 1:
The first night on the road brought back many memories. The sky was clear and filled with stars. The temperature was comfortable for which I was very thankful as it was the extreme drop in temperature and strong winds that I credited with a heavy dose of the blame as to why I quit when I did last year. The road yards really felt like a continuation of the first day. As every runner’s pace changed a bit from trail to road, I found myself still meeting new runners throughout the night which helped pass the time and ward off sleepiness. I never felt too sleepy the first night and as the sun rose on the last road yard, I felt refreshed and excited to go back to the trails.

Still early on day 3, I think.

Day 2:
My legs felt good to start the second day of trail running and I didn’t feel too sleep deprived for having run through most of the night. I was still feeling good at this point of the race. I think it was at some point during the second day that I tried to address the intestinal issues I was still having. I took some anti diarrhea medicine to help treat it. I also stopped taking the gels I had been eating hourly and cut off the coconut water I had been drinking between yards. The thought was that I may have been taking in too much sugar or the coconut water was acting as a laxative. I’ve used coconut water at plenty of other backyards and never had these issues, but I had brought a different brand for this race. Ultimately, I don’t know what the cause was, but we were trying to resolve the problem as quickly as possible which meant getting rid of the two readily apparent possible causes. As day two continued, fatigue began to set in and the overall difficulty of completing each yard seemed to be mounting with every yard. I continued grinding and looking forward to the switch back to the road even though I knew it would bring with it the challenge of a second night of sleep deprived running. For those last few day yards on the trail I couldn’t stop thinking about how the trail felt more difficult this year on the second day than it did last year and what an extreme change I had in my perception of difficulty in just 24 hours. My perception of the trail difficulty had made a full reversal: from much easier than I remembered to tougher than I remembered.

Night 2:
It was during the second night that the thoughts of how I was not going to have the race I had envisioned began to materialize more completely, seem more real, and become much more difficult to suppress. I was feeling more sleepy than the first night but not getting much sleep in the few minutes I closed my eyes between each yard. I didn’t feel like I was working super hard, but still I was only coming in with about 7 to 8 minutes to spare. On top of it, I was still having some gastrointestinal issues, so much so that after one of the middle of the night yards I had to make a quick impromptu underwear change (please don’t ask for details, it was bad, but could have been far worse). The second night presented far more challenges than I expected going into this race. Thankfully, I was able to overcome them and survive to see another sunrise thanks in big part to the persistence of my crew and the other runners. My crew man, Marty, did all he could to keep me focused, fed,motivated, and on task even when my attitude in the crew area was pretty crappy. The other runners I ran with during the second night helped keep me motivated to continue pushing at a decent pace as well as keeping me engaged in some conversation to avoid falling asleep while running. The three runners that stand out for me that I ran with when I most needed someone to run with were Jivee Tolentino (who I chatted with for the first time during the second night), Thembinkosi Sojola, and Jason Bigonia. I can’t express how valuable it was to me to share those miles with them in the wee hours of the morning as I was desperately looking forward to the sunrise.

Morning of Day 3, when I was overdressed and still had my headlamp on.

Day 3:
After the second night, my legs were feeling pretty shot and I was uncertain how they would react when we switched back to the trails. I had the same worry last year, fearing my legs would be dead when they hit the trail again and I would time out on the first trail yard of the third day. With that worry in my head again, I hit the half mile road out and back section at a relatively faster pace to bank some time before the remainder of the day course that is all single track trail with some sections that are a bit on the technical side. It surprised me again this year, just like last year, how good my legs felt getting back on the trail after the second night. Other than being overdressed for the weather (I had failed to change out of my long sleeve shirt and kick off my running pants that I had put on as temperatures got a bit lower during the second night) the first yard of day three on the trails was honestly one of my most enjoyable. As I ran that yard, I started to think that maybe things were starting to turn around for my race. Even though I had to make another emergency roadside bio-break (all the while one of the camera drones hovered above my head) on the last road yard, I thought maybe that was the last of my digestive issues. Maybe day three will finally be the smooth sailing yards that I had expected early in the race.

Post race interview.

The next few yards got a bit more challenging, but I was still completing them with 3-4 minutes to spare. That went on until yard 54. Early during that yard I got a bad feeling in my stomach. I thought I was going to vomit and my race was going to be over as I assumed I would likely time out after I emptied my stomach. Only a few moments later, I realized I wasn’t going to vomit but it was about to come out the other end. After I took care of business, my stomach felt better but I was unsure if I would complete the yard before I timed out. I knew I’d have to work for it so I immediately started pushing the pace. It was a struggle, but I made it in almost a full minute before the three minute whistle. Unfortunately, pushing the pace to make up that lost time took a toll on me physically and stressed me out. Which was basically the story for the remainder of my race. I’d go out easy to start the yard in an effort to try to recover from pushing hard during the second half of the previous yard. It felt like I was in a backyard death spiral for the last four yards of my race and I was panicking. It felt like my race was slipping away and there was no way to save it.

A post race chat with Laz and Sandra. 

I had fallen at least a few minutes behind the pace necessary to complete my 57th yard before the halfway point. I’m still not sure how I fell so far off pace so early in that yard, but that’s where I found myself when I caught up with my fellow Team USA member, Levi Yoder. I think we both knew that we were in some trouble at that point, so we both worked together to pick up our pace and push one another. It felt like we pushed really hard for the last two miles of that yard; like red lining and going into a kick to cross the finish line. In reality, we probably barely broke a 10 minute mile if at all. Based on checkpoints we passed as we were hammering, I was estimating we’d complete our yard somewhere between the second and third whistles. We managed to cross the line about one second before the two minute whistle. I’m not sure about where Levi’s mind was at the time, but I was pretty certain my legs would be dead after that push. Levi and I left the corral at a shuffling pace for yard 58, but I think we were still laughing at the time at how ridiculously hard we pushed to complete that last yard. We walked the road out and back debating whether to even go back out on the trail. We agreed to force ourselves to run back through the starting corral on the way to the trailhead. We managed that, but when we got to the start of the trail we both stopped. We had a short discussion about how we would have to hammer the next three miles to complete the yard before the cut off which felt like an impossibility at the time. And so we both pulled the plug right there, turned away from the trail, and walked back to the starting corral.

First time sitting down to relax after the race. 

The feeling of mixed emotions hit soon after as everyone in camp started clapping and cheering for us as we walked back. I was still in the midst of laughing at how the last yard ended when the reaction from everyone at camp suddenly reminded me that it was all over and my race was done. Relief, regret, joy, and disappointment all at once. Even now, nearly three weeks later, I still wonder what would have happened had we continued down the trail. Would some spark of life for a fight to survive and continue have ignited and powered my legs to complete one more yard? I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I like to think it would have at least been a possibility. That’s often the attraction and aversion of the backyard format, in my experience. Each race leaves you questioning. Did I do enough? Could I have done more? Where did it go wrong? Where can I improve? When can I try again?

About half of 2022 Team USA - Jason Bigonia, Levi Yoder, Dan Yovichin, Rick Kwiatski, Scott Snell, Keith Van, Kevin McCabe, and Piotr Chadovich

Lesson Learned:
I want to preface this lesson with a quote from a fellow runner at Big's this year and a member of last year's US Team, Dan Yovichin, - “We’re just ordinary people doing extraordinary things.” I think I got it right, or at least close to right. I recall him saying it last year, but this year it hit me a little differently and applies to the major mistake I made and what I learned from it. I made my big mistake before the race even started, before I left home for Bell Buckle, the seed for it probably germinated and began to take root during my training runs between Capital and Big's. What was my great folly? I failed to prepare myself for the fact that accomplishing extraordinary feats is extremely difficult.

A post race brew and chat with Jennifer Russo.

I went into this race overconfident. Then when it got hard, it was shocking. I had been telling myself while preparing that I could definitely make it to the third night and then it would start getting tough. All the while, diminishing the facts that running through two consecutive nights with minimal sleep is tough, covering 200 continuous miles on foot is challenging regardless of the pace, and maintaining normal bodily functions while adhering to the backyard race format time requirements can present additional challenges. So when things got tough and I started struggling more than I expected to during that third day, I wasn't prepared. I panicked. Which I believe made matters even worse, mentally and physically, as I felt like I had lost control. The feeling of panic was at least partially caused by my overconfidence and the unexpected shock of how much I was struggling earlier than I had planned. This concept of a misalignment of actual and expected demands in relation to our capabilities is a topic Steve Magness discusses at length in his book Do Hard Things. I read the book in part to prepare for Big's, so there was no excuse for me to make this mistake other than it is an easy trap to fall into. Magness explains how this blunder often plays out when a goal begins to feel impossible to achieve, stating that we’re more likely to “abandon our pursuit” because why try and continue to suffer if it will just end in failure anyway? Rather than me relaying the information, here’s a short quote from the book:

“When we are overconfident, we set ourselves up for failure. This isn’t idle conjecture: researchers have found this phenomenon in everything from competing in sports to deciding whether to stay in a relationship or quit your job. It’s easy to feel confident in the beginning but when we come face-to-face with the reality that we might fall short of our goal, we experience what psychologists call an action crisis.”

Since I read the book, I should have learned this lesson already, but sometimes it takes experience to learn a lesson. At least I hope that this experience has taught me this lesson well enough so that I remember it and do not repeat it at future backyard races.

Scott Snell
9 November 2023

Cheering on the remaining runners was almost as much fun as running a backyard.

Preparing for a 24 hour - Taper Panicking

By the numbers, yesterday’s run wasn’t amazing for any reason. It wasn’t a tough work out. It wasn’t at a high intensity or a faster than normal pace. The distance wasn’t crazy long or even any farther than my average training run. I did not reach any significant milestones for the month, year, or the number of miles on my shoes. Barring all the things it was not, yesterday’s run was special. The numbers and data behind the run didn’t make it interesting or significant, but the feeling of it did. Which is exactly what I needed to feel ready and prepared for this weekend’s 24-hour trail race.

The day before after getting home from work I began to feel depleted, like my mind and body needed some time off. That isn’t the feeling I was hoping for halfway through my taper week leading up to what I expect to be a pretty hard effort for 24 hours. I caught myself sneeze a couple of times and my throat felt scratchy. I feared I may me getting sick as my son was still getting over a cold he picked up a couple of weeks ago. Waves of anxiety, panic, and anger all took turns floating to the surface of my emotions as I feared that this was going to be a repeat of my last race that I ended up running while still recovering from a cough/cold. That would most likely make this weekend’s race a total sufferfest. Although my wife has told me, “you’re the best sufferer,” that doesn’t mean that I seek out extra opportunities to suffer or actually enjoy it.

I decided that as soon as the kids’ extracurricular activities were over for the night, getting ready for bed and getting some rest was my number one priority. But shortly after we got home my son reminded me that we had run our 1 mile training run for the day yet. We had just started running a mile a day this week because he wanted to train for his school’s fitness challenge run. I honestly had forgotten about it for the night, but when he asked if I was ready, I couldn’t bail on him and say no. We got our headlamps and went out for our mile. Once finished, it was bedtime.

Yesterday didn’t seem like it was going to be a change in my mental outlook or physical health until I managed to get out for my run after getting home from work. My legs felt great! I was full of energy and truly happy to run after a day of feeling worn out. Most importantly though, it was the confidence booster I needed to be ready for a 24-hour effort. It resolved the taper week feelings of panic I was experiencing just the previous day. It set my headspace right to trust my training and know that I have done the work to be as prepared as possible for a challenging physical endeavor. It’s almost go time, and I am ready!


Scott Snell
20 April 2023

February Monthly Mileage Check In

Happy #MonthlyMileage check in! I wrapped up February with a little over 239 miles! February was about increasing the solid base I started building in January and maintaining consistency without abandoning non running aspects of my life. With a baby boy due to arrive this month to join our family of five, the non running aspects of my life are obviously pretty demanding. Add in an unexpected bout of kidney stones leading to a trip to the ER that my wife had to endure while about eight months pregnant, and it’s easy to see how my training could have fallen pretty far off track. Thankfully it didn’t and I was able to meet my mileage goals and still have a few days at the end of the month dedicated to a ski trip with my older boys, or we can call it cross training if preferred.

My average daily mileage increased from 8.30 in January to 8.55 miles per day in February. Only a 3% increase in average daily mileage, but I am thrilled with it given the circumstances over the past month. I am especially happy with my mileage and where I’m at right now this early in the year with my training because it already exceeds where I was last year in preparation to run Capital Backyard. Last April leading up to Capital, I averaged 8.37 miles per day. This year, a full two months out from Capital, I’ve already surpassed where my training was last year. This gives me some high hopes and big expectations for how my days go at Capital this year.

But before I start focusing on Capital, my more imminent goal is to better my performance and the course record at the Adventure Trail Run 24 Hour race. Given my training thus far this year and my current fitness level, I am more confident in reaching my goal of bettering the course record there than I was when I attempted to do the same two years ago. I believe it is mainly due to the focus I had on consistent training and building volume last year. I had a decent endurance foundation prior to last year, but my training was still primarily structured around long training runs. I got away from those last year and refocused on consistency to build volume. That meant less recovery days for me and an overall increase in volume. I tested out the “brick by brick” training ideology and would say based on my results so far I am a subscriber. I feel like the long training run loses training value as you progress as an ultrarunner. They’re great for testing fueling options and improving mental toughness but after a few years of ultrarunning you tend to get fueling that works for you figured out and mental toughness develops and is refined over time. Therefore, my long runs are pretty much reserved for races, at least for the time being. We’ll see how that training regimen works for the 24 hour race format, but it has served me well in the backyard format so I intend to continue using it.




Scott Snell
16 March 2023

A Healthy Mix of Joy and Fear

Big's Backyard was the first race to break me. Although it didn’t do it single handedly; it had a pretty helpful assist from the cold I came down with about a week before the race. It was a culmination of events and circumstances that led to me succumbing and ending my race shortly after beginning the third night of running. Immediately and for several weeks after I wasn’t sure I would go back or if I even wanted to, but now I’m certain. I hope to be back at Big's this fall, better prepared mentally and physically. And hopefully in better health as well. When I think about going back I’m filled with a healthy mix of joy and fear.

The phrase “healthy mix of joy and fear” was one that I spouted off on a whim recently. One of the scout leaders from my oldest son’s den was congratulating me as my wife and I are expecting a new baby boy soon. Maybe I didn’t gush with as much excitement as I should have and he said to me a bit sarcastically about how thrilled I look. I replied with, “yeah, I’m excited. It’s a healthy mix of joy and fear.” Later I realized that is exactly how I feel about going back to Big’s as well.

I believe the joy stems from the opportunity to have a second crack at Big’s to do better; second chances are never guaranteed so I am grateful for the opportunity. Last year I was so dead set and focused on Big’s that I feel like I built it up to be more than it actually was, like it was a once in a lifetime opportunity and no one ever goes back for a second attempt. Not that I all of a sudden don’t think that running at Big’s isn’t a big deal. It’s just that now I recognize that it was not a one time shot, that I may have several years of running Big’s with the national team format and in the strictly individual world competition format. In a way, it seems that strictly focusing on Big’s last year took away from the joy of the experience and made it feel like an impossible task. With what I hope to be my second chance at Big’s this year, I not only want to have a better performance but also want to enjoy the process.

The fear emanates from having experienced Big’s and having been broken by the backyard race format. Like I said earlier, I don’t think the race format alone broke me but it was the cumulative effect of the cold I was battling unrelated to the exhaustion and sleep deprivation which were directly induced by the race format. Top all of that with a severe drop in temperature and some strong gusting winds going into the third night and I was done. I’ve now experienced how quickly things can go from bad to worse and over so quickly in this race format and that is scary. It’s so scary because like second chances, there are no guarantees in the backyard format. Any runner, no matter how talented and resilient, can have a bad hour and sometimes that’s all it takes to end your race in the backyard. That is why I have a great deal of respect for the format; because it can humble anyone with little to no notice. I look forward to facing that specific fear that wasn’t there last year when I ran Big’s. I’ll still go into the race with high expectations for myself as I feel confidence is a key to success in backyards but this time with a bit more fear and respect for how quickly a race can fall apart and be over.


Scott Snell

15 March 2023

2022 Big's Backyard Team World Championships

Team USA - 2022 Backyard World Champions

Not All DNFs Are Equivalent

  

The rules of the backyard race format are simple. There can be only one winner. The winner is the person that successfully completes one more 4.1667 mile loop than any other runner in the race. To remain in the race each runner must complete that loop within a one hour time limit every hour beginning on the hour. If a runner fails to complete the lap within the time limit or to be in the starting corral at the start of the next hour’s lap, they are out of the race and recorded as a DNF (Did Not Finish). It is a race format based on attrition with the sole remaining runner being the victor. When a team aspect is incorporated into the format, the sole focus of an individual athlete’s success is no longer centered only on him or herself. It also depends on the success of their teamates. That is what happened in 2020 when international athletes could not travel (due to covid travel restrictions) to Bell Buckle, TN where the Backyard World Championship race is held every year in October. To continue the annual international competition, the race format adapted to a team competition with teams of 15 runners representing their home country in their homeland negating the need for international travel. Teams would run an equal distance course on their “home court” following the same backyard rules with the addition of a simple team scoring system where one point (or yard) is scored for every team member that completes a lap within the one hour time limit. The team with the most points is crowned the champion team that year. Incorporating team camaraderie and representing one’s home country as a group were just a couple aspects that made the revamped team format of the race a worldwide success in 2020. So much so, that it was incorporated as a biannual event being held on even years while the individual world championships would be held on odd years. This report is the story of how I earned a spot on the 2022 USA Backyard World Championship Team and my race in Bell Buckle, TN.
 

To make a long story short of how I earned a spot on the US team, I won a bronze ticket race (Backyard Squatch) in August 2021 which earned me a spot at a silver ticket race (Capital Backyard Ultra). Winning Capital Backyard Utra guaranteed a spot for me on Team USA. Earning a spot on a national team to represent my country in an international competition felt like a pretty big deal to me. It also felt like a good deal of pressure to perform well. I hoped to have one of those ideal days when everything just clicks and it feels like the energy flow is infinite. I wanted to have the performance of my life, not just for the sake of the team, but to achieve a performance that I could look back at and say “wow, that was it! That’s one that is going to be hard to ever top!” But, in ultrarunning, as in life, things don’t always go as we hope or plan.

 

My training mileage leading to Big's Backyard.

Training went splendidly. I followed the same basic plan as I did for the build up for Capital Backyard Ultra with the only major difference being an increase in volume of mileage. I had less hiccups, speed bumps, and interruptions to the training preparing for Big’s than I did for Capital. I had serendipitously met a local runner at Capital (Dagmar - thank you!) that volunteered to crew for me at Big’s. By the numbers (larger volume training) and other factors (crewed versus uncrewed) leading into Big’s, I expected to have a better day there than at Capital. Which is likely a major reason why I come away from the experience feeling so disappointed with a performance that was about on par with what I did at Capital. Of course I can make excuses, which I hate, but there has to be some explanation why things happen how they happen. The best explanation I have, least sounding like a bs excuse, began about two weeks before Big’s when my youngest son came down with a cold (not covid, we tested). The cold made its way through our whole household and I definitely had a remnant cough and some sinus congestion en route to Tennessee for the race. Finding yourself in the cough and cold aisle of a CVS to get cough drops and restock with zinc tablets is obviously not the ideal situation two days out from a multi day race where you’re hoping for the performance of your life, but that’s the situation I found myself in. That’s the hand I was dealt, and I chose to play it.

 

After a couple days of travel, we arrived at Big’s backyard Friday afternoon before the start of the race the following morning. Big is the name of the Race Director’s dog and the trail course is in his backyard, hence the race name “Big’s Backyard”. We got our tent and most of our gear set up and situated with a few hours of daylight left so we decided to hike the trail course. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this course was going to be far more challenging than the Capital trail course. The trail is nearly all pretty technical single track with plenty of roots and rocks to catch your toes on. With tired legs, this is an ever present danger. Add in the elevation change (about 470 feet of gain per loop whereas the Capital trail course had somewhere between 300-350 feet of gain per loop) and you’ve got yourself quite a challenging backyard course.

Day 1 - October 15 AM

The race started with the trail loop at 7 am. This particular race location requires runners to complete 11 day loops (7 am - 5 pm) before switching to the night road course beginning at 6 pm for 13 night laps. That is one of the quirks of the backyard team format international competition; each team is on a unique course in their homeland with varying lengths of daylight hours. Some have more day course laps than night course laps and some vice versa. Some have more runnable courses with less elevation change. It's not an even playing field, however, what plays to the strengths of some runners is a weakness of others. It’s a bit of a luck of the draw as to how your running strengths align with your country’s home course.

 

This was home for the duration of the race.

A few minutes before the start of the first yard, Laz (the Race Director) called all of the runners out for a pre race briefing going over all of the rules and reminding us he would make no exceptions in enforcing them even if it would be severely detrimental to our team effort. That is the essence of backyard racing: the rules are simple and must be strictly enforced. Shortly after, Laz was ringing the cowbell that would signal the start of every yard on the hour, every hour until there were no runners left in our competition. As he rang the bell, Laz shouted “Happy Times!” with what seemed to be a mix of emotions covering the ranges of excitement, joy, and anticipation of how the race would play out and what all of us runners would achieve.

The trail course of Big’s is actually only a little over 3 miles so to get the required 4.1667 mile distance it begins with a short out and back on the road course. It was during this initial road out and back that Harvey Lewis (a very accomplished ultrarunner and a bit of a personal running idol to me) called in our team for a little team building and strategy talk. It was real now! I was on Team USA with Harvey Lewis!

The trail course was a bit challenging on the first day, but having hiked it the evening before it wasn’t a surprise for which I was grateful. I’d much rather be aware of the challenges stacked against me rather than be surprised by them. The miles and yards rolled by smoothly while I took in calories between and during laps with no issues. The goal of day one here was the same as the goal of day 1 at any backyard: stay steady, be patient, and cause as little stress to the mind and body as possible.

 

Night 1 - October 15 PM

The overnight portion of any long distance race always presents a set of challenges not faced during the daylight hours. The sun sets and darkness sets in and head lamps are lit. Your body’s circadian rhythm reminds you that this is when you should be preparing to rest after a long day outdoors, but that’s not an option in the backyard. I feel like the need for rest is more intense or at least more apparent during a backyard race than a standard point to point race. During a standard race the goal is to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible. Depending on the timing of the race and daylight hours, point B could be reached before the sun rises. Having a finish line to target is a huge mental motivator to push hard and continue onward. The physical output intensity of a standard race is greater than a backyard. During a standard race you’re pushing your body harder to edge that line of moving as quickly as possible without breaking, whereas in a backyard the goal is to restrain the body from even approaching over exertion, keeping the pace as calm and relaxed as possible while still allowing a few minutes between laps to not feel too rushed. The backyard allows the mind to realize that the body is tired and in need of sleep while also holding the body in a state more ready for sleep with a lower heart rate than standard races. Maybe not during the first night, but it can be a recipe for disaster as the race continues.

The first night of most backyards probably produces a greater loss of runners than any other portion of the race. But this backyard was not a standard backyard, this was the International Backyard Team competition and although one team member (Brady Winkles) developed a knee injury overnight, our team had no drops during the first night.
 

My night was uneventful other than battling some standard drowsiness. I attempted short naps between laps more frequently than I had at any other backyard since I had crew support at this race, but honestly I’m not sure if I ever actually slept. I made what I believe may have been a mistake towards the end of the night. I attempted to run a fast lap (37:55) in hopes that I could manage to get a bit of a longer nap, but the faster pace raised my heart rate too much and I mostly just spent that interloopal period lying on my cot with my eyes closed waiting for my heart rate to recover. I believe the negative mental impact of that failed strategy was far greater than the physical. It was the same strategy I used during the second night at Capital and it worked perfectly there as I got a solid 10 minute nap and felt refreshed before the sun rose for the third day. As the race continued, I would find many things that went right at Capital would present greater challenges at Big’s.
 

Day 2 - October 16 AM

Although our team would make it through night one with no losses, Brady would have to tap out early during day two due to his knee injury. He would complete 25 yards before timing out on his 26th.

The second day of trails felt like more of a struggle for me and required more effort than the first day, but that is to be expected when you have over 100 miles on your legs. The elevation change was definitely having an impact on me as most of my training is on extremely flat terrain in south Jersey. By midday my quads were letting me know just how unprepared they were for all of the climbing and descending on the trails. As the day laps wore on, I found myself falling in line with a group of teammates right behind Harvey Lewis. I did my best to just turn my brain off and just focus on his feet as I ran behind him. Sometimes the best thing to do during a long ultra is turn off the mind and just follow the footsteps in front of you. It helped get me through some challenging laps during that second day.

At one point when I was hurting pretty bad physically and feeling extremely sleep deprived and drowsy I asked Harvey in a pretty general way, “what do you do when it starts to hurt really bad?” I think he responded with a few questions asking what hurt and how it hurt. I answered that it was mainly my quads just feeling spent. He came back with some tips and possible solutions to improve the situation: stretching between laps, making sure I’m taking in enough electrolytes and fluids, and more generally to think of someone important to you while you’re running through the pain. The advice helped me get through some low points during that day as our team approached a second night of running. It would also be one of the highlights of my experience of running Big’s. Just little old Scott out running trails and getting advice from one of the best backyard runners in the world.

Night 2 - October 16 PM

The switch back to the road course was a welcome change after the second day of trail running. It rained intermittently during the second day making the trails a bit muddy and the rocks slick. Sure footed, mindless running of the road was a relief after a day of concentrating on uncertain footing on the trails all day. Sleep deprivation is obviously intensified during the second night after the sun sets. This is when the field really dwindles to a few serious runners with their eye on the ultimate prize during a normal backyard, but again, this was not a normal backyard. All but two (Kevin McCabe who was suffering from nausea and vomiting for 8-10 hours before ending his run with 38 yards and Justin Wright who was battling an injury sustained on the trail during the day would fight on to complete 44 yards) of our 14 remaining team members would survive the cutoffs the entire second night. It’s not to say there weren’t struggles, myself included. I found myself chatting with teammates more during the second night than the first. It was in part to encourage them when it seemed they were struggling and as a means to keep myself awake and as alert as possible.

At one point while I was bobbing and weaving while walking (possibly sleepwalking) a headlamp came up beside me. It was Cody Eubanks who I hadn’t chatted with much earlier in the race as his pace was typically a few minutes faster than mine. He pulled up and invited me to run with him so we could keep each other awake and on the road as we struggled through the wee hours of the morning. I had been turning my headlamp off for portions of the road laps overnight hoping that it would help me to fall asleep faster between laps. The trade off is that I felt even sleepier while running in the darkness. With Cody’s headlamp next to me I woke up a bit and turned mine on as well. The dual headlamps help stave off some of the drowsiness that night. The conversation with Cody helped chase off all remaining drowsiness for a few stretches of that second night as we ran the next few laps together. We chatted about coffee at one point and that’s when I realized I had a package of chocolate covered espresso beans I had not even opened yet. I became irrationally excited about them at that moment. I invited Cody to stop at my tent during the next interloopal period and join me for some espresso beans. In retrospect, that espresso bean party at my tent kinda felt like closing down the bar and inviting all your drunk friends back to your house. Then all of your sober roommates (in this case your crew, sorry for the unexpected extra runner you helped take care of at that point, Dagmar) see you arrive and are just saying “WTF” to themselves.

 

Day 3 October 17 AM

Towards the end of the second night, I began losing hope that my legs would be able to complete the trail loop within the time limit. I voiced this to teammates and crew and got encouragement all around. I was committed to giving it a go. I didn’t want my race to end by choosing to not go out for a lap. I wanted to keep going until I timed out. Thankfully, after the first trail lap, it felt like my legs got a little spring back in their step and I felt more confident I could complete the trail loops on that third day without timing out. The shift back to trails was not as forgiving for all of our team. We lost both Cody and Jennifer Russo on the first trail lap. Jennifer barely missed the cutoff and was maybe 15-20 seconds away from completing her lap when the bell rang. Cody was a bit farther back and our team congratulated him on a race well run as we passed him making his way back on the trail. With their losses, our team was down 6 runners and 9 runners continued on into day 3.

After many hours and several days of hearing Laz howl “Happy Times!” at the start of every yard, it began to sound more like a purely sadistic yell to me than anything else. The excitement and joy was gone; now it was just hurting. I did my best to fight on through it and stay positive, but it was getting really tough. Food wasn’t attractive anymore. My mouth had begun to break out and felt like I had mini canker sores covering the insides of my lips. I was experiencing heartburn like I never had during a race before and all the Tums I ate didn’t seem to help but for a brief portion of each lap. I was losing the mental battle and I knew it. The sleep deprivation intensified. I attempted to chat with teammates, but I wasn’t sure if I was actually saying anything out loud or just thinking of saying it in my head. Making it back from the loops with about 5 minutes to spare began to feel like a challenge. I told myself just to hang on and the night loops should get easier. If I could just survive the day trail loops. My cold congestion started bothering me more and more during day 3. I found myself taking running breaks to move to the side of the trail to hack up phlegm from my sinuses. We lost Levi Yoder and Jason Bigonia after laps 52 and 54 respectively, reducing our team to 7 runners by mid day. During a standard backyard, losing a runner is motivating in a sense as it puts you one position closer to being the sole survivor of the race. But with the team format, it is more of a punch to the gut as you just lost another teammate.

 

Night 3 October 17 PM

We entered our third night with 59 yards completed, about 245.8 miles. My personal backyard record is 61 yards. Surpassing that was a personal goal for me going into this race. It was well within reach at this point, but I was fighting a complete lack of motivation to continue and an onslaught of apathy about the race in general. I believe I had lost the mental battle at this point. I actually just wanted to quit and not go back out for another yard although I knew I would regret it. Dagmar was able to reason with my unreasonable attitude enough to get me to commit to at least getting a new PR of 62 yards. Those last two laps were ugly. It was a lot of walking and feeling sorry for myself. Then reminding myself that I had to pick up the pace to make it in and get that PR. I came back from my 62nd lap torn. I had bettered my PR and now I could quit and be happy and proud. But that’s not the case for me with the backyard. I knew I couldn’t refuse to go back out without feeling like a total piece of garbage. Thankfully another runner’s crew member had found out I was planning to drop out and wasn’t going to allow it. He made me lay down for the few minutes I had between laps, threw a pair of running pants on me (temperature had dropped when the sun went down that night), put a water bottle in my hand and pushed me into the corral to go back out for another yard. Dying in the chair is unacceptable in my backyard ethos. If your race is going to end, at least go out fighting and let it end by timing out on a lap.
 

And that is how my race ended on the 63rd yard. I started out, legs feeling stiffer than ever before. I pushed them to run. It hurt, but they began to pick up the pace. Then I was unexpectedly walking again. I repeated the cycle until I hit the half mile mark at 8 minutes. That made me worried. I would have to increase my pace to make it back in time. The cycle of walking and mentally pushing my legs to run continued until I hit the 1 mile mark at a little over 20 minutes. Then I realized my pace had slowed even more even with my attempt to pick it up. And I realized I would not complete that lap within the cut off. I stood still for a few moments looking at the night sky, then the ground, wondering if I could hammer out a 10 minute mile uphill to give myself a chance of making it back in time. I even made the attempt to run a bit more, but my legs wouldn’t have it. They refused to pick up the pace and I didn’t have the mental capacity to convince or force them to move. With that, I knew my race was over and I began my cold, sad walk back on the dark road.

I couldn’t quite explain at the time what went wrong and I’m still not completely sure. Was it the shock of the cold weather that third night, the sleep deprivation, the lack of stretching, calorie depletion, the phlegm I was hacking up and sinus congestion I was battling, just physical exhaustion, or most likely a combination of all of the above. Lack of sleep and physical/mental exhaustion will take your mind to some strange places, and I went there over the course of my time at Big’s. I had some big personal goals and high hopes going into Big’s, and I failed on several accounts. I wanted to run through a third night and break 300 miles, both of which I failed to achieve. I bettered my PR, but only by one yard. I truly believe that failure is an opportunity for growth and improvement and I hope to embrace my failure at Big’s to improve my future backyard performances.

My performance was good enough for 24th in the world out of 555 athletes.

With my race over, I was chauffeured to a hotel where I showered and slept for a few hours in a real bed. I felt a bit more human again the next morning and we returned to the race to clean up our tent and gear just after the two remaining runners had headed out on what would be their final lap. Harvey Lewis and Piotr Chadovich both went out for a 76th yard, but only Piotr would successfully complete it making him the Team USA Champion with 316.67 miles. I was so happy to be back and alert to witness the finish of our team’s race and congratulate both Harvey and Piotr on their amazing performances. With our team’s race over and a healthy lead in the team competition, it looked like we would have the team win, but with several other country’s teams continuing to accumulate points it was too early to celebrate. We took some team photos and chatted a bit about all of the challenges we all endured over the last 3 days or so. We had all suffered together for a common goal: to accumulate more yards than any other team in the world. Some of us faced more challenges earlier on than others. Some of us overcame and bounced back, some of us succumbed to those challenges. But through it all, we worked as a team encouraging one another to push on. Our crews assisted one another sharing resources such as foods, beverages, pain relief supplies, and expertise such as taping and wrapping injuries. True team bonds were formed as a result of our shared hardships. Although it took about another 25 hours or so to be official, Team USA was declared the 2022 Backyard Team World Champions with 860 total yards over Belgium's 788 yard performance as second and Australia's 744 yard performance for third.
 

I am still so grateful to have had the opportunity to compete in this international competition as a part of Team USA! I hate to tarnish our team victory in any way by expressing any disappointment in my personal performance, but that feeling is there. I don’t have any running plans as of right now. I expect to run more backyards and maybe chase some FKTS. Right now I’m not sure where to focus my efforts next. I can say with complete certainty that I hope to improve as a backyard runner and I would love to represent my country as a member of Team USA again in 2024.
 

Scott Snell

26 October 2022

My Cure For Training Slumps: Trail Run Your Way Out of Them

 

Have you ever experienced a perfect or near perfect training build up without any setbacks or obstacles along the way? If so, consider yourself lucky because it is a pretty rare occurrence. Even the most goal oriented and motivated people can find themselves caught up in a training slump. Everything can be going along swimmingly and according to plan, but life happens and unforeseen challenges completely out of our control present themselves. I’m currently working my way through a bit of a training slump at this point as I build to prepare myself for whatever distance I end up running at Capital Backyard Ultra.

I’m about midway through my 4.5 month training plan for what I consider my biggest race ever. There have been a few challenges along the way that could have derailed or significantly set back my training. My family had a bout of the stomach flu for about a week of January. There have been bad weather days that made getting out to get the training miles extra challenging. Up until this past week though, I have recognized the challenges, adapted, and overcome them. As much as I hate to admit it, the cold/congestion I’ve been dealing with for a little over the last week has hit me the hardest.

I got taken down by a bad cold for a couple days and the sinus congestion and runny nose that has ensued has really tested my will to train. I've still pushed myself out the door to get at least a few easy miles, but I haven't enjoyed it and it's not the way I want to train. I'm questioning if I'm exaggerating the impacts of the cold by not just resting, but I don't want to lose fitness in the middle of my training.


*Trail Run Break*


Well I got out for a trail run tonight and it was the best run I've had in over a week. I still have some congestion, but the sinus headache is gone and my energy level seems to be almost back to normal. Apparently the cure for a training slump is a quality trail run! There's something magical about going out for a trail run a little before sunset this time of year. The trail is soft underfoot extensively cushioned with pine needles. The spring peepers are out singing. Suddenly, the last fading hues of orange and red sunlight are nearly gone beyond the horizon. Gradually everything fades to shades of gray and it becomes necessary to turn the headlamp on. Almost shockingly, the entire universe seems to contract instantaneously to be contained within the range of the light emitted from my lamp. And that is the extent of my world for the remainder of the trail run. The seemingly endless universe returns as I exit the canopy of the trail and the night sky and stars become visible again. A feeling that reminds me of hurtling through a void of space envelopes me as I adjust to my new environment. The foot falls are different on the pavement now. The air and lighting is different here. It's all changed. For the last couple miles I run under the dim moonlight grateful for the clear night sky and the many stars on display.

Scott Snell
March 11, 2022

My latest vlog ⤵️ 

Stomach Flu and DISCIPLINE

At first glance, nothing about this run looks special. Maybe "special" is a poor word choice; every run, no matter how routine or average is special in the sense that you're out there running. You're physically capable of that act and mentally motivated enough to do it which in itself is special. So let me rephrase that opening statement. At first glance, nothing about this run looks out of the ordinary. It was a common route and distance for me at a relaxed pace. What makes it "special" for me is the fact that it came at the tail end of about a week of my household being plagued with a case of the stomach flu. Of the five of us, only one managed to avoid vomiting. I spent the week leading up to this run cleaning up vomit, caring for my vomiting kids and wife, and doing my own share of vomiting. 

It felt like yesterday everybody was back to good health and we were finally returning to normal activities; which meant I could pick back up on running after a short hiatus. It would have been so easy to give myself an excuse to not run last night. 

We'd all been sick for a week. 

I needed another day to recover. 

Take your pick.

It was busy day between work, helping the kids with homework, and running them to extracurricular activities; I was ready to call it a night by the time I got the kids fed and ready for bed. It was after 9. I asked myself "are these just excuses? How bad do you want a spot at Big's?" The answers were "yes" and "bad enough to go run tonight." 

Oftentimes, your mind will happily justify the easy path, but it is a short lived victory. And for me, when I allow and accept that seemingly valid reason to not get after it, in retrospect, I usually regret it. Because I usually realize the main factor determining whether you get after it or not isn't extenuating circumstances. It's DISCIPLINE. Only you can gift yourself with discipline and either you have it or you don't.

Scott Snell

January 14, 2022

Night Trail Runs Are Good for the Soul

 

This was my first run since Sunday and my first night trail run since August. I got knocked down by a pretty bad cold (not COVID, I got tested) this past week and took a few days off to recover. I started feeling crappy and sneezing Monday evening. Tuesday and Wednesday were full blown "I'm sick" days complete with sinus congestion, sinus headache, runny nose, and severe reduction of energy levels. Things started getting better Thursday, but the energy wasn't back and I didn't want to add undue stress to the body while still recovering. Friday felt good other than a bit of stubborn congestion that was still hanging around. I decided it was time to go for a test run. It was the right decision.

It was also my first night run that finally felt like an autumn evening run. The air was cool, crisp, and still. The moon was bright and the sky was clear. The only sounds were my feet moving through the leaf litter and the sniffles from my still slightly runny nose. For having not run in almost a week and just getting over a cold, I moved surprisingly well and with minimal effort. Maybe my legs needed the break too. My headlamp lit the trails I've run so many times in daylight, surprising me how different these trails that I think I'm so familiar with can look after dark. Deer eyes and spider eyes glowed when the light from my headlamp was aimed in their direction. It's an experience that will always remind me of my overnight trip running the Batona Trail when my mind started playing tricks on me in response to all those glowing eyes staring at me from the dark.

It sure did feel good to run again after almost a week of no running and a few days off being sick. And to be able to run the same trails I always run, but in a new way. It's a reminder to me to be grateful and realize how blessed I am to have found an activity I enjoy pursuing with passion and that I have the physical capabilities to do so.

Scott Snell
November 20, 2021