Queeny backyard and a carrot

Watching Big's 2023

It was 6:50 on a Monday morning in the fall of 2023, and I was still in bed watching Big’s Backyard Ultra. A work day. I should be out of my bed right now. I thought to myself.

But, the “race with no end” was underway. And I was glued to watching it unfold.

Eventually, I reluctantly pulled my blanket off and slipped out of bed while watching the cowbell being rung once more by race director Laz. The remaining runners shuffled past the start line and began their next loop.

I put down my phone and started my typical daily routine. But my mind remained in Bell Buckle Tennessee.

Signing up for Queeny

2024 is an even year, and that means Big’s is a World Team Championship event: 15 runners from each country compete simultaneously from their respective land. Each country running their own last-person-standing event as a team, they tally their total yards to determine the winner. To earn a spot on Team USA, you’d need to win one of the 7 “silver ticket” races, or perform well enough to earn a top eight spot on the “at-large list”. Before the qualifying window started, a runner would need at least 64 yards to be on that list.

To shoot for a spot, I decided to try a silver ticket race I’d never run in before: Queeny Backyard Ultra in St. Louis, Missouri. I signed up for the race with the intention of either winning, and guaranteeing a spot, or making it far enough to get on the team.

I checked out Ultrasignup to see who applied and one runner stood out immediately: the previous winner of the race and a prior member of the USA team in 2022. From Jefferson City, Missouri with glasses, a smile, and a bushy beard: Cody Eubanks.

I reached out to him and asked about the course. I learned a bit about the varying terrain, the scenery, and some of the unpredictable weather they had experienced in past years. In our short conversation, it was pretty clear that Cody was a cool dude. Furthermore, we had nearly the same personal backyard record; he went 48 yards before at Big’s, and I went 52 at Ohio’s.

Mind shift

It was December, and I learned that Chris Roberts was planning on running at Queeny. This guy is a big deal in the backyard ultra scene. He ran 84 yards as the assist to Harvey Lewis at Big’s in 2021. With Chris running the race, my thinking shifted.

You may be inclined to say: “Dave! You have no shot in winning Queeny now! The guy who ran 84 yards – freaking 32 further than your absolute best – is in the race! Bail out! RUN SOMETHING ELSE!”

But no.

That’s not at all what I thought. Not one bit. It occurred to me: This is a good thing. A really good thing. I get to run with freaking Chris Roberts. And Chris is going to take me and Cody all the way to the moon. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to run with one of the best. A legend in the backyards. This is actually kinda good.

But, something needed to change. I needed to keep up with Chris.

Keeping up

My expectation went from possibly winning the race to instead having the expectation that I was going to have to go super duper far and at best come in 2nd or 3rd.

So, I listened to some interviews with backyard ultra “greats.” I integrated some new aspects into my plan that I inferred they believed were key to their success. Here are a few examples:

• Like Phil Gore, I made a detailed race plan for my crew and myself to follow.

• Like Jon Noll, I ran some relatively quick 40 mile runs on the weekends.

• Like Harvey Lewis, I ate a (predominantly) vegan diet.

You might say, “Hey, Dave. That’s kind of fan-boyish of you.” And I would say without denial, “Yep.”

I’m not completely certain that doing the 40 mile runs made a giant difference just yet (though they were bunches of fun, and I’ll probably keep doing them), but I’m certain of something: making a detailed race plan really helped. Besides just running, a backyard includes all the other things you have to do in between the loops. As the race goes on, you have less time, and you can find yourself getting a bit sleepy and slacking off. That’s where the plan comes in.

Now, my crew and I would just need to check out what we are supposed to do during and after that loop and then follow it. Of course there’s still some improvisation and problem solving involved, but it helps to stay on track of when to fix up my skin, when to prepare a certain type of meal, or when to run a bit faster to try to get some sleep. Mainly, it saves some time and energy spent thinking about the trivial things we need to do in a race with an indefinite end.

Those tangible changes aside, I also recognized I needed a stronger mind to push past where I failed before.

I'm the mule

In past backyards, my mind would eventually give out. I would lose hope when my body began to resemble a slug. Every time I dropped from a backyard ultra, there was a mental component to it, even if it was small, it was there. At Ohio’s on yard 53, I told myself mid-stride to take a little break during an uphill climb. That was my mental blip, and it subsequently made my legs seize up (which yes, was then physical). So, I became exhausted. I needed a stronger mental game to prevent those sorts of incidents. Something that would not get in the way of the pursuit to run forever.

It was during a training run in January in Arlington, Virginia – moving back and forth alone on a half mile hilly trail at night with my headlamp – that I listened to The Long Walk by Stephen King. A story about people competing against each other in a theoretically endless walk. They walked southbound along the roads from the northeast in the United States and were eliminated from the event when they fell below four miles per hour too often. The walk would end when only one person remained. Sounds kinda almost sorta like a backyard ultra.

Anyways, there’s a quote in the book that took hold of me during that dark night which helped shape my mental framework for Queeny: “A mule without a carrot gets exhausted. A mule with a carrot spends a long time being tired.”

I thought to myself: I’ll be a mule, and Big’s will be my carrot. No more exhaustion. Just being tired!

The race begins

I arrived at Queeny, set up my tent with my crew (thanks, Dad, Mom, and Mary!), and then I went to the starting line.

Then, at 10 am, the race started with 96 runners! Woo!

Staying present is everything in a backyard race. Looking too far back or too far into the future can cause mental fatigue and can make you wonder, “Why am I doing this?” As I peered over the woods, calm pond, and soft fields at Queeny Park, I told myself “I am going on a 4 mile jog around a park.” I was not lying at all. I was going to tell myself that every yard. I knew that as time passed, this would be an increasingly more difficult task.

I got to chat with Chris during most of the first loop, and then he was out of the race. I was really quite bummed out. I know what you’re probably thinking: “Chris? The Chris Roberts? Out of the race? How!??” That’s Chris’ story to tell, and it’s best if I leave it at that for now. Chris later made some Hylē Hydration™ donations to me and my crew via a large 5 gallon orange cooler (yum!). He also gave me some positive vibes and gameday backyard ultra tips which benefited the outcome of my race.

The race continued. I ran with my sister, we made some jokes here and there, and we played a game:

“Do you know what they say about running?” Mary asked.

“Yes! Running is a footstep into the future!” I replied. “Do you know what they say about art?” I asked.

“Yes! Art is a snack for the soul!” She replied.

And so on…

You might be amazed at what can entertain you while running around in circles for hours. As we exited the trees onto the final straightaway, I reminded myself: “I am going on a 4 mile jog around a park.”

The first night

During the first 12-15 hours or so of the race, I took many bathroom breaks. It seemed like I was just basically detoxing myself from the meals I had before the race. After that, I would go like 24 hours before needing to take a substantial bathroom break again. Weird, but honestly pretty awesome since everything else was functioning normally. So, it saved me lots of time!

After 12 hours, my sister dropped out of the race, and I was super proud! She was a bit short of a PR in the backyard, but Queeny was a significantly harder course than her previous race.

On the first night, I essentially followed Phil Gore’s pacing plan from Big’s: three "quick" yards followed by one "recovery" yard repeated 3 times until the sun came up. These faster yards allowed me to get some substantial rests. Did I “sleep”? No, I would not call it sleeping per se, but I came dang close multiple times with 10+ minute naps, often getting lost in visuals with movement and color. Like an opening act to a true sleep.

The party dwindles

On loop 22, Cody and I wore tu-tus for lap “two two.” Just like the Australians do in their backyards.

This festive loop getting dressed up was followed by some rapid changes that slimmed down the race field.

19 runners completed loop 24 (whoop! 100 miles!).

13 runners completed loop 26 (way to go, Lindsey Roberts for being the last female and Nicholas Steel for being only 21!).

8 runners completed loop 28.

6 runners completed loop 29.

5 runners completed loop 30.

4 runners completed loop 32 (nice job, Cody Poskin for making it this far in the race as a 22 year old!).

3 runners completed loop 35 (shoutout to Stormy Hild for making it to the second night and for running for a great cause!).

Then, it was just Cody and me who completed loop 36.

Just me and that other guy

On the second night, I was no longer interested in doing the faster loops like I did the first. My body just wanted to run a little slower. But, I was still able to get lots of good “shut-eye”.

During loop 40, I experienced my first moment of weakness. I was running alone behind Cody, and I was sleepy. I was suddenly lacking energy. I wanted to quit. When I finished the loop in 53 minutes, there was cheering at the finish. I gave a brief smile, and I waved my dad over to my tent, and we closed the entryway. I sat on my cot feeling a bit bummed out, and I said with seriousness, “Dad, I wanted to quit during that loop.” He replied, “Okay, enough putting off caffeine. It’s time.” He gave me a caffeine strip to put on my tongue (the first caffeine I had during the race), and I crossed my fingers that things would take a turn for the better. And they did. I was a bit less sleepy during loop 41, and all of loop 42 felt beautifully normal. A beautiful 4 mile jog around a park.

We began each loop running into the darkness from the well-lit starting line, usually with me running a bit ahead.

I ran across the first paved path, went down the hill past the pond, and jogged over the short wooden bridge where I began the walk up to the gazebo. Towards the top of the meandering climb at mile one, Cody would occasionally catch up to me.

We then ran past the house to the entrance of the woods and went down the dirt trail to the cement bridge over the stream. We took a sharp left turn through the park maintenance area and onto the next section: the gradual uphill path consisting of dirt, grass, and tree gumballs. It was during this section of the yard that Cody would often pass me.

After that, we crossed the stream via another cement bridge, this one hugged by loose gravel. Then we jogged the dirt trail in the woods until the ascent got steep enough for our bodies to want to walk. This was when I would reach into my pocket to eat a PB&J or some muffins washed down with a few sips of Hylē Hydration™.

When we got to the stump a bit past the trash can, we began to jog again until we got to the bottom of the next climb in this dirt trail between the trees. This one was actually quite steep.

Usually, I was behind Cody here, but there was a selection of yards where I checked to make sure I did not see Cody behind me, and then I would have some “me” time: I enjoyed letting out some loud, even villainous laughter to get my spirits up – hopefully I didn’t scare you, Cody. I was feeling a sort of way.

…okay, moving on.

When we got to this group of metal and wood poles, we ran a short distance to the exit of the forest. Then, we were in a big field that had horse jumps scattered around. The sunset and sunrises poking through the trees here were beautiful, and the sky was nice and open. Through this field, we ran on the gravel that sloped downhill until it made a wide u-turn around a big tree with a westward facing bench under it. To me, it was “Cody’s Bench.”

Early in the race, I saw Cody take a seat on the bench and take off his shoes. I asked him “Have a rock in your shoe?” and he replied “Just relaxing!” He would keep sitting on this bench throughout the race, and I would always wonder if I was missing out on something special. So yeah, “Cody’s Bench.”

After touring around the bench, we were greeted by a man with a reflective vest on the edge of the park by his house who rang a cowbell and gave some encouraging words.

A ways later, we had to jump off the grass and back onto the gravel path and make our way a short distance to reenter the woods. Here, we walked again up a little hill. This was the beginning of the most fun part of the course and also the most challenging.

It was enjoyable, since we got to pass by a couple more houses with cheering residents. At the first house we passed, there was a group of four people or so around a bonfire who whooped and hollered praises of rapidfire as we walked up the adjacent hill: “Go, Dave! Go, Cody! Looking strong!” and once we got to the top and started our run again: “That’s it! You got this!” Towards the top of the next climb, there was another man by his house who rang a cowbell and gave us more encouragement.

But, it was also challenging. This part of the yard had the steepest downhills of the course, and it was made of loose gravel and leaves. The uphills that followed sometimes made it difficult to keep pace.

After the last climb, we had to run a bit more on a flat section of dirt to exit the woods and rejoin the paved path that fed right to the start/finish line. We crossed the finish line after 430 feet of rolling elevation, me averaging 50 minutes over the course of the race, and Cody averaging 51. We were often not far from each other at the finish.

Where's Cody?

During the 3rd day, Cody told me “We are well matched,” and then at yard 58, “I feel like we are prize fighters,” When he said those things, I was reminded that we were in a competition. I was still holding onto the idea that we were going on a 4 mile jog around the park.

As the hot day progressed, I started thinking about how we were approaching my dream distances: We are soon going to see the sunset, then we will get to 60 yards. Then a couple more loops and it will be midnight. Next, we are going to move into the USA at-large list. Next thing you know, it will be sunrise! Then we are going to get some newfound energy and cruise past 300 miles! After that, we will be passing the big players on the at-large list left and right. The sky's the limit. Just me and Cody out here, making history. Together.

The sky grew dark for a 3rd time in the race, and I began to have pseudohallucinations (they are not quite real hallucinations, since you know that what you are seeing is not real). The leaves and sticks on the trail became faces. A constant blast of vivid, abstract faces the color of dark soil lashed at my eyes and fatigued my brain. I did not know if I needed more caffeine or less. But I found that either looking away from the trail or turning off my headlamp eased the distractions of the surreal imagery.

Early into loop 59, I asked Cody if we could run together so that we could stay strong during the night. Cody attempted to have a conversation with me. It was then that it hit me for the first time that Cody was facing some problems: his lips were numb, and he had a dry mouth. He told me that he was slapping his lips to keep them awake. Despite this, he seemed to be speaking okay and moving well too. However, when I talked to him, I found it difficult to say anything substantial; it took too much energy for me to funnel my thoughts into words. I enjoyed listening to him, but I sensed that this was evolving into a one-sided conversation, where I was becoming nothing more than a set of ears. Perhaps I too was facing some problems. I told him that he could move ahead of me, and so he did. Somehow during this slow yard, I passed him and finished just a bit in front of him. Cody ran a 56 minute loop for the second time in the race.

During the 60th yard in the dark, breezy night, I was feeling normal again and had renewed energy. I was no longer experiencing the pseudohallucinations, and I was feeling awake, despite not taking caffeine for a while. Towards the entrance to the field at the halfway point, I looked for Cody, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I kept looking back, but I still could not see his headlamp. Time ticked by as I ran under the stars in the field. I told the cowbell guy by Cody’s Bench “I think the race is over. Cody hasn’t exited the woods in time.” But, I didn’t quite believe it. Cody just looked so good for the first part of the loop. I thought for sure he was just taking a bathroom break. Or maybe, he had his headlamp turned off to prevent hallucinating like I had been. Maybe I was not seeing straight.

I passed by the remaining houses that bordered the hilly trail in the woods, and I told each of them that Cody was nowhere to be seen. “I think the race is over.” I said again. It was beginning to settle in. My buddy was no longer with me. But also, did I just earn a spot at Big’s?

The man in the camping chair

I finished the loop in 50 minutes and saw the bearded Eubanks in his camping chair by the finish line. I knew it was over and ran over and thanked him with a hug and a handshake. Eyes from familiar faces and strangers huddled around us as we sat by the race clock approaching hour 60. We all listened to what Cody had to say; the “assist” of Queeny was decided, and we were eager to hear his story. He shared well spoken wisdom about his experience on Team USA and gave advice and kind words. We learned he had been dealing with leg pain in the race. A sore achilles, and eventually it became too much.

Everyone seemed to honor our race. It was a big show, and it was a testament to how far the human body can go given the right event and support to crew us in pursuit of reaching our limits. Thank you to those who put on the event, those who participated, those who crewed, those who spectated, and those who cheered. I cannot thank my dad, mom, and sister enough for crewing me at the event. They helped me earn a spot at Big’s on Team USA. And so now…

It's time for a new carrot.

Random selection of photos