2023 and me

So! 2023 is over! Let’s discuss the life of Dave in 2023. I know what you’re probably thinking: “This year was epic for you! You ran across the country!”

In 2023, I accomplished my dream of running across the United States of America. A big, scary, ambitious thing. Huge. One might think that was enough to make this the most fulfilling year of my life. However, if I’m honest with myself, the year averaged out to be… a bit average? But I have thoughts. Let me explain:

The year started, and it felt like a continuation of the last months of 2022. I spent the end of 2022 winding things down in Seattle and continued to do so until the end of February of 2023. To me that meant no longer thrifting things for my apartment, not continuing my application to be on the Seattle Running Club Brooks team, no longer making plans with friends in the pacific northwest, and no longer doing a list of other things you do when you know you’ll be in your city for a year or more. In 2023, I was going to be in Seattle for less than 2 months. Those 2 months felt like a last “hurrah” before my departure.

I knew that my transcontinental run was going to take time. And it was too much time to stay associated with my job (a job I loved) via a temporary leave. My team graciously said their goodbyes and celebrated with a “Good luck, Dave!” black forest cake during my last week. I left my things, and I ran home from work with an empty backpack into the sunset. It was my last run commute from Bellevue to Seattle.

Every run felt bittersweet. I knew they would be my last (at least for a long time). I experienced my last run around Tiger Mountain, the last run around Cougar mountain, the last run over the I90 bridge, the last run over the 520 bridge, the last run on the Burke Gilman Trail, the last run in Magnuson Park, the last run in Ravenna Park, the last run on the Marsh and Foster Island, the last run in the Washington Arboretum, the last run in the Discovery Park, the last run around Lake Union, the last run on lake Washington Blvd, the last run on Interlaken Dr, the last run around the Space Needle, the last run on the Elliot Bay Trail around Queen Anne, the last run around Green Lake, the last run around Volunteer Park, the last run on the Howe Street Stairs, the last run with the Cowgill runners, the last run with Capitol Hill’s Fleet Feet, and the last run with my friends.

After a going away party with friends in Capitol Hill, I returned to my apartment to sell the rest of my furniture. My friend Sam Feng helped put my final belongings in the lobby of my old apartment, leaving me with just a handful of bags to be sent across the country to my parents house in Virginia. The last thing I did in my apartment was weigh my suitcases with a body scale I borrowed from the neighbors I met about a couple years before, when I first moved in. Next, I made my way to my flight in Tacoma. As I peered out the window on my flight leaving the city I called my home for nearly 4 years – the only one I resided in after college – I couldn’t help but picture an imaginary version of myself running about 300 times slower along a similar path below.

So at this point in my story, I was attempting to wrap things up (*cough* plan my run across America) before taking a trip to San Francisco. I spent lots of time with my family and enjoyed many hours on Google Maps (but not too much since I wanted the trip to be a surprise). But there was also one other thing I wanted to get done before my trip began: run a competitive backyard race.

My plan was to run Ohio’s Backyard Ultra on March 18th (snagging a spot at Big’s Backyard Ultra in the process (I mean, that would be awesome – I hoped it would give me peace and motivation during the transcon)), recover a little, and then begin my run from San Francisco on April 1st. This didn’t really go to plan at all.

Firstly, Ohio’s Backyard Ultra was an amazing experience (I wrote a race report on it – check it out), but, long story short, I got really sleepy, and I didn’t qualify for Big’s Backyard Ultra – after all of the races completed around the world, I ended up being 4 yards short of making the dynamic qualifying standard (if my memory serves me right). I left the race exhilarated, having achieved such a huge number of miles and a big adventure with my support crew (thanks, parents and Mary!), but also kind of bummed out that I prevented the winner (Josh Laker) from making it to Big’s, since the winner can only go one more yard than the assist (which was me). This still nags me to this day. He was in good shape on that last yard, and who knows how far he could have gone.

Secondly, after refreshing a tab for “weather in Lake Tahoe” about twice a day, it became apparent pretty quickly that I would need to postpone my start date across the country. There was too much snow in the Sierra. The furthest I could stomach pushing my start date was May 1st. I thought to myself:

If it worked for Mike Wardian, it can work for me.

I guess it could have been any day in May, but starting the trip on the 1st is just… cool?

For brevity's sake, I’ll thin this out to just some important takeaways (remember, this is a 2023 review report, not some transcon report): The trancscon (which I named “frantosand” before the trip started) was kind of not exactly what I thought it would be, but also lived up to my expectations of the ultimate adventure that I wanted my self-supported journey to be. There was so much of the country I had yet to see, and I wanted an ambitious adventure. It ended up having a sort of yin yang balanced fullness. It was boring, and it was engaging. It felt easy, and it was challenging. There were surprises, and everything went to plan. I felt hopeless, and I felt invincible. I got lost, and I kept finding my way. I got scared, and I was brave. I felt sad, and I felt happy. I got injured, and then I felt like I was in the best shape of my life. I felt sick to my stomach, and I felt like a machine. Furthermore, I met countless unique people, I got to camp a lot, I ate a bunch of junk food, at times I felt like I was on a different planet, at times I felt like I was living in a dream, I got to run a lot, I saw beautiful landscapes, I saw interesting towns, I got to share some of the experience with my friends and family, and I got to float on the waves of the Atlantic Ocean behind my Grandma’s house in Virginia Beach just as I dreamed.

For those who want to know the stats of the trip: 3,402 miles, 76 days, 45 miles a day, San Francisco, CA -> Sandbridge Beach, VA, me, my stroller Sunshine, my backpack, and occasional support from my parents and friends.

This description obviously doesn’t really do any justice for describing the nitty gritty of the trip, but there’s more to come. Stay tuned for a brief film and a proper write up / book, etc.

After finishing my run across the country I tried to settle back into being a normal person.

Why was I trying to be a “normal person” again? It’s because I had to make a living somehow!

Getting a job again was hard. An airy, not-very-jampacked, loose hard. In other words, I wasn’t getting interviews. Skipping the self-pity, I felt extremely thankful for the job I did end up getting. I now lived and worked in Virginia (a bit closer to family).

Awesome, Dave! You have a job now! That means you’re cool as a cucumber, right?

No.

On the running side, the completion of the transcon left me feeling a strange strong-weak. My legs felt resilient, my heart felt strong, I didn’t ever breath hard, and my body was lean (I lost 15 pounds during the trip). But, one big thing was off. I was slow now. 12 minute mile pace was the new 9 minute pace, and 9 minute pace felt like my old 6:30 pace. It would take me 3 months to get my old speed back. But that wasn’t all. I also wasn’t mentally the same.

At this point, I really didn’t feel the same exhilaration I had at the beginning of the year, or during the transcon. I had been full of excitement for the unknown of adventure, and when that unknown was known after the transcon, I felt like I was just venturing into the known again. My dream was realized, and therefore it vanished. I missed my transcon. I wished I was still doing it, but it was over. I wanted something to run towards again, but I no longer had a truly savory vision. I needed to dream a new dream.

Dr. David Horton is a great guy. A huge inspiration. A legend of the ultra running sport as both an athlete and now a race director. However, one thing Horton will remind us is that he “hates” backyard ultras. He believes that they are bad for you. I’m not sure I can convince him otherwise, so this is something Dr. Horton and I might have to agree to disagree on: I love them.

The first time I became aware of backyard ultras was in 2020 when I watched a documentary on the 2019 world championship when Maggie Guterl won with 60 yards (250 miles). My dad and I shared our enthusiasm for the idea of participating in a backyard ultra. The following Year, my Dad started Andy’s Backyard Ultra in our neighbor’s wooded backyard in Virginia. We both ran in backyards and learned as we went. Backyards replaced my interest in faster running – all I wanted to do was run forever.

This year at Big’s Backyard Ultra, it was streamed live to the world. Passion, athleticism, and mental spirit oozed from Tennessee and out from my TV screen. There’s absolutely nothing like watching a group of human beings from around the world run indefinitely at a pace that is perfectly balanced between too easy and too hard to get me excited for the unknown again. I was glued to my screen throughout 5 days in October watching the best multi day running event in history. After a smorgasbord of stories high and low being fed to my eyes and ears, I felt like I needed to be there. I was truly reinvigorated for backyard ultras like never before.

My dad and I ran the Hellgate 100K again (a very special race), and this time, I did not get lost. I beat my previous time by exactly 2 hours even though I pooped during it 6 times. Quite empowering.

A part of my new year’s resolution was to get an FKT. This didn’t happen. But it’s possible my dad and I now have the fastest known 100K on Jarman’s (over 10 six mile out-and-backs up and down a mountain by the Appalachian Trail in Crozet, VA in just under 15 hours). We scaled down our goal of doing a 24 hour 100 miler on Jarmans during the run. Thank you to John Andersen for giving us the breakfast sandwiches and Frappuccinos.

So, I’m not sure if I successfully painted how 2023 was not the most fulfilling year of my life as a whole. It may have included the absolute best adventure I ever had in my life, but its ramp-up required sacrifice, and its completion left a void. I think my preferred outlook is not for me to view the year as the average of how I felt, but to instead view it in the same lens I appreciated my transcon: the beauty of the height of the highs, and the profoundness of the depth of the lows.

Let’s take a look at the checklist I created for the year:

• ❌ Do 100 reps of Howe Stairs (this is important). (Didn’t get this before I left Seattle – maybe one day...)

• ❌ Finish Ohio’s Backyard Ultra (Close, but no cigar – assist)

• ✅ Run very far (this was the transcon)

• ❌ Get an FKT. (did not happen, but at least I did a 100K on Jarmans)

• ✅ Keep running every day I guess…

• ✅ Run at least 5,000 miles? (I ran exactly 7,000 miles)

• ❌ Don’t get injured please. (I got injured a bit during the transcon)

As you can see, I completed under half of my goals in 2023. But, I mean, I’m not sure I could have done much more after the transcon! The recovery period took months (and I am perhaps still getting over some things).

I have a number of non-running related goals (haha), but no one’s here for that. Here’s some running related goals…

• Qualify for the USA team for the backyard ultra satellite champs

• I don’t know, keep running every day I guess… I’m over 800 days into this fad

• Go after that Jarmans 24 hour 100 miler again?

• Hellgate PR if I get to race it?

• Don’t get injured, PLEASE.

Somehow the goals for 2024 feel more ambitious than the last even though there’s no 3,400 mile journey involved. There’s a lot out of my control for qualifying to be on the world stage for backyard ultras these days, and it’s just going to get more competitive over time. But this is what fuels my dream. It seems just out of reach, but I think that I can occasionally feel my finger just on the edge of it.

I wish everyone a happy 2024!