The backyard of the U.S.A.

It was during some time with my family in late 2020 – Covid time – that my Dad and I were watching this documentary on YouTube about a woman named Maggie Guterl winning a race in a guy’s backyard in Tennessee – a world championship last person standing running event called “Big’s Backyard Ultra”. In 2019, she was the last person standing after 60 hours and 250 miles.

So, my dad and I discovered backyard ultras, and we agreed that they seemed neat.

I’ll go to Big’s one day… I thought to myself.

Since 2020, the even years of Big’s backyard Ultra are “team” events. Instead of 75 runners from around the world competing in Big’s backyard, 50+ countries, with 15 runners each, compete simultaneously at their own local backyard race, with Team USA running in Big’s Backyard in Tennessee. Each Backyard team’s score is based on the total number of yards run by each team member. 2024 was one of those team years.

I qualified for the race by winning a “silver ticket” race: Queeny Backyard Ultra in St. Louis, Missouri in March of 2024. There is some guilt when winning a qualification race, since the second place runner (the assist) barely misses out, and you are to blame. Thankfully, my assist in that race, Cody Eubanks, made the team by performing well enough in the United States over the 2 year qualification window: he had run 59 yards.

Training was going well. I had some big mileage: a bunch of 130-150 mile weeks, a 170 and then a 211 mile week. Some of those weeks included run-commuting to and from work along a 10 mile route, a whole bunch of 20 mile runs, a 40 and a 45 mile run, and the occasional session of stair repeats.

Then one day I went for a morning run, and felt a sudden burst of sharp pain in my heel. I had plantar pain, and it was 4 weeks until the big race.

I jumped straight into cycling on Zwift in my apartment living room for a week, only running one mile a day to maintain my nearly 3 year running streak. My heel hurt so bad, I didn’t know what to do. It hurt so bad to run. Walking felt terrible. I felt broken, and I was panicking. But, after one week of cycling, icing, ibuprofen, stretching, and hardly any running, my plantar fasciitis seemed to be completely gone.

Unfortunately for my positive-outlook-hungry-brain, no one I talked to about this quite believed me that it was completely healed. And that made sense. I had an injury, and it was the type known to linger for a very long time. But, the plantar fasciitis seemed to have left the building. It came and went over the course of one week.

My only remaining fear was that it would somehow reintroduce itself on a training run or during a yard at Big’s.

We were allowed no more than two crew members at Big’s. I decided that my sister Mary and my dad Rick were going to take the role of Dave’s crew! They were always excellent, and they struck a good balance between being a loving-family-person-”I-love-you-Dave” and tough-coach-“Dave-you-can-do-this-don’t-quit-dude.”

Though she couldn’t be part of my onsite crew, my mom was able to be my “virtual crew” member. She stayed at a hotel north of Bell Buckle, kept up with the race by watching the live stream, shopped for food, did laundry, kept in touch with my crew by phone, and helped my dad and sister with transportation when they were clear of the venue. It seemed to really work well, and my mom – who has a love-hate relationship with backyard ultras – enjoyed this role of being close, but not too close, to this crazy event.

With about a minute till go time, I walked up to the starting coral with other USA runners. I was excited to see the familiar faces of runners that I had met at previous backyards, and those that were new! We each wore a sort of jersey with our “seed” on our shirt. I was number 10.

We took a picture together.

Next, we put our hands in the center of a circle prepping for a pump-up speech and a cheer. Harvey led the speech… something like: “Let’s do this! We are a team!” (Don’t quote me, I don’t really remember). Then we all said “U! S! A!”

The “Jeer Leaders” chanted something not so cheery, then we were off.

The day course began with a little half mile out and back on the road by Laz’s place. You basically run off of Laz’s driveway, take a sharp left turn, run down a kinda steep hill, run a u-turn about a Portuguese “virar” spray painted on the road, run/walk back up, then turn back into Laz’s driveway. Then the trail course started.

Big’s is considered to be a pretty tough backyard course. Taking foot onto the trail, I was mentally prepared for a challenge. There were some big rocks, some technical footing, and many hills. Running behind others, I put trust in their strategies.

It quickly became apparent that the veterans at Big’s did not walk all of the uphills as people normally would in backyard ultras; there were hills long and short that we ran. When the first loop was over, I finished in about 55 and a half minutes. 4 minutes to go until the next yard. It was confirmed that walking all of the uphills would not likely be a winning strategy. There would not be enough margin for error.

I would see my teammates trip on rocks, roots, and little tree stumps, then I would fall as well. No matter the experience on the course, people were stumbling left and right. Once when I fell, I received some gashes in my hands. Not the most forgiving course.

Coming back into the tent, my crew fed me and prepped me for the next yard using my plan/spreadsheet. Since Queeny Backyard went so well, there were only some small differences from the plan: more frequent shorts lubrication (every 3 yards instead of every 4 or 5 yards) and more sodium across the loops (I got many cramps at Queeny). As an experiment, I also weighed myself after each loop to make sure I was never rapidly losing weight. This, in theory, would help indicate a sodium imbalance. Over the course of the race, I gradually lost about 4 pounds.

The first day went by very quickly, and it was really fun talking to some of the legends of the sport in the United States. Meeting and talking to Harvey Lewis was a particular realization of a dream. I think I got to talk to pretty much everyone! The day course was really engaging, and I never felt bored. It was really neat running with a group of people who all knew what they were doing. It was weird knowing that it would be unlikely for anyone to drop before the first couple of days or so.

When the night loop began, we went past the “virar” in the pavement and continued on our way. The first night loop included a sunset, a nice little climb on the road between some trees, and a beautiful view of the mountains.

Towards the turnaround point, the French cameraman on a bike asked each of us what was our favorite thing that we ate that past day. Mine was a guacamole sandwich.

When I got back to the camp, I put on some noise-canceling headphones and a face mask and tried to sleep. I often slept! I think that’s because I was not having caffeine. Unfortunately, the noise-canceling headphones worked a little too well and we had a close call on one of the first night loops with my crew not realizing I couldn’t hear them at all. Luckily I still made it to the corral on time and they decided to shake me awake in the future!

Just like at Queeny, I only began taking caffeine when I needed it. At Queeny, I first took caffeine during loop 40, because I NEEDED it. At Big’s, I ended up deciding to have my first bit of caffeine (a Coke) during yard 50, since I was feeling a little sleepy. This allowed me to sleep quite well during the first two nights at Big’s.

When I was out on the night course, I listened to a playlist that my girlfriend Elizabeth made for me. An 18 hour selection of songs and podcasts with her own voice memos sprinkled throughout. Hearing her voice every once in a while and some selections she put together was a treat.

The sun began to rise during the last night loop. It was gorgeous, and it was a reward for getting through the first night.

Going into this race, it was clear to me that everyone on the team was capable of making it at least 50 yards. But as the midday of day 2 drew closer, some of us began to struggle.

My legs were beginning to get sore, and my left knee was having some acute pain. But these things I knew I could get through. Looking around, I saw that there were some other signs of pain. In particular, Ryan was facing some challenges.

My crew told me to give Ryan some moral support during the next few yards, so I did my best to cheer him on. When Ryan exited the race after 30 yards (someone whose best was 64 yards) it was hard. I knew he wanted to go further. He was a strong runner.

When the second day came to a close and we hit the road loops, we were met once again by the French camera bike man, Rudy. He asked me some questions about how I was doing, and I was having a pretty good time! However, my left knee still hurt, and my legs were quite sore.

It wasn’t too much longer that I discovered that Keith dropped from the race. It was once again really hard to learn that someone on the team dropped out. My dad and I knew Keith from racing with him at Capital backyard and crewing him in different races. He is such a cool guy, he is very knowledgeable about backyards, and I knew he had big goals.

The second night was mostly just me doing my own thing and listening to my girlfriend’s playlist some more. The night began with me finishing up a podcast about the mysterious D. B. Cooper and ended with me listening to Taylor Swift.

I realized towards the end of the night that Jennifer Russo (the female world record holder of backyard ultras) was no longer in the race. I got word that she may have been having respiratory issues. This was also hard to learn as our team turned into a group of twelve.

Cody and I ran most of the last night loop together while Rudy interviewed us, and then the third day began.

I was having some stomach issues, leg soreness, and general fatigue issues. Some bathroom breaks, some ginger chews, some massaging, and my first bit of caffeine later, it seemed like my issues still persisted. But, I felt that none of the issues were bad enough to be worried that I would be exiting the race. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for some of my teammates.

Next, the 28 year old Bo (I’m one year old younger, so I have him beat in the youthfulness category), Cody (my assist from Queeny), and the legendary Chris Roberts (who got 84 yards to be second best in the world in 2021) dropped from the race. All exits were very hard pills to swallow. I missed all of them immediately.

It was at the end of the third day that things became a bit more stressful. I would spend time going to the bathroom and then not have much time left to complete the yard. I’d often have to run the parts in the last mile or so of the course that I had previously walked, and I was still only coming in at 57 and a half minutes or so. I wasn’t panicking per se, but I was getting a bit of an undesired adrenaline rush.

I might have been a little more out of it at this point than I realized at the time. After the race, my sister was talking to me about these hours on the third day, and how they had moved my chair outside of our tent and closer to the corral where it could be in the shade and have more breeze. I had no memory of them doing this for several hours and had to see video evidence from the live stream to believe it.

The start of the 3rd night on the road was welcome.

Ron and I started the third night together, ahead of the pack. It was a blast, and we realized that running together felt very natural and chill.

A loop not long after, I started running with Harvey, and the group he was leading as a team. Following his instructions for when to walk and when to run felt easier in some ways, since the running was slower and it required less thought, but it also felt harder since the walking breaks were shorter and faster. There were more frequent walking breaks, so there were more transitions from walking, to running, to walking which sometimes felt clunky.

Running with the group was also difficult since I was beginning to feel more sensitive and irritable to the flashing of the bouncing headlamps and auditory stimulation from the footsteps and chatter.

After completing the 61st yard, I rang the “PR bell” as my crew and Chris Roberts cheered for me with tutus on! It felt like a great accomplishment, but it also felt just like any other yard. I knew I would celebrate this achievement more after the race, but I was too tired to really make much of a deal out of it...

During the 64th yard, my legs felt terrible when I ran. They felt like they were on fire, and it hurt. My walking was slow, awkward, and inefficient. I all but forgot how to walk. Harvey realized this and decided to run with me, so that I could complete the yard in time. Running was increasingly more painful as we ran together, but he kept me going. His compliments and pats on the back were the motivation I needed to keep pushing through the pain. I knew that if he left me to run alone, I might have given up. I think he knew that as well…

I returned to the corral and began the 65th yard, but I felt spent. The group naturally ran off down the hill towards the “virar” without me.

Harvey asked me from a distance, “Dave, do you want to run together again?” I quietly replied “I don’t think so…” Not because I shouldn’t have, but because my tired brain didn’t want to run through the pain in my legs. Running was no longer fun.

“I think this is it for me” I told the group ahead of me for some to hear.

Levi stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. “It’s not too late, Dave,” he said. “You can keep running, and you can finish this.”

I said something like “No; I think I’m done.” and Levi started running to catch up with the group.

I turned back to camp and walked to Laz. “I think I’m done.” I said “my legs don’t want to run anymore.”

After some silence he said “Are you sure?”

I did not answer.

I heard my dad yell “Dave, don’t quit! Keep running! You have time!”

So, I miraculously turned back and kept running the course.

I could hear a loud “Bad life choices!” from Chris as I started to run down the road.

I slowly made it down the hill and past some of the landmarks along the road. Fences, trees, marks on the road, gravel driveways… then I looked down at my watch and realized I would not complete the loop in time. So I turned back, started walking, and had in mind that I would quit this time for good.

I turned in my chip at the timing tent and did my best to explain what this episode on the 65th yard was all about. I was not able to completely recall where I turned around, but I did recall feeling pained legs when running and slow legs when walking.

I returned to my tent, and was met by my crew, photographers, and Laz who gave me a DNF coin in a small black bag “of snuff” (to clarify, it was not a bag of snuff).

Laz seemed somewhat content with what I did, and it allowed me to feel a bit better. The truth was, I was proud of myself, but I also went into the race with the idea that I would “run forever” – an impossible goal – and finishing the race at any distance would be short of that.

I love backyard ultras. The journey is so profound and unique. At Big’s I received 64 hours and over 266 miles of trails, country road, teamwork, and perseverance. But sometimes when the race is over, the only thing people see is the pain and the disappointment.

Reflecting on this race was weird. I didn’t hit many of my goals. I had dreams of getting through the third night (72 yards), making it far enough to make the at-large list for Big’s in 2025 (which is currently 83 yards), getting through the fourth night (96 yards), and perhaps surpassing the world record (108 yards). But, I achieved so much.

I was happy with what I achieved. I got a personal record by 4 yards (64) on the true, pure, and mean backyard ultra course (Big’s). I contributed 64 yards towards our country's placement as 3rd place (Belgium came in 1st and Australia barely beat us to come in 2nd). Also, I outperformed my seed number for the team (I ended up placing 9th on the US team), I was the 3rd best #10 seeded runner in the world, I got no blisters during the race, I had no cramps during the race, and I got no chafing during the race as well. Also, I got tons of sleep! I had no hallucinations, which I guess is good and bad… since hallucinations always make cool stories.

I hope those who followed along with my race or are reading this now know that backyard ultras are so much more than pain and disappointment which often are most apparent in a runner’s last couple yards. A backyard ultra is about the journey. A journey with no end in sight. That’s what makes them so unique. I had so much fun working with my fellow teammates and crew, working through the course and issues as they came up. My success is a testament to those around me, and what took me out of the race ended up being my own intolerance to pain in my legs.

I learned something new about myself, and I am leaving the race still dreaming of the backyard.

On odd years such as 2025, about 75 runners from around the world go to Big’s backyard to race as individuals. The winners from each country in 2024, and the remaining 25-30 top performing runners from the 2023-2025 season are eligible for the race. It’s a combination of a representation of the world and the best of the best. Surely I want to see if I can attend.

Right now, I’m not eligible for this race. I need a performance of about 83 or so yards.

There are 3 races that most people think about for qualifying for Big’s Backyard Ultra on the at-large list:

• Dead Cow Gully in AUS (that went to 102 yards before)

• Capital in USA (that went to 75 yards before)

• Suffolk in UK (that went to 88 yards before)

After some research and deliberation about which race to attend, I landed on Suffolk Backyard Ultra. It’s a race that has proven in 2 consecutive years to at least go into the 80s, it's virtually completely flat, has cool temps, has soft soil, and has beautiful wooded views. It has the returning champion (Poland's Lukasz Wrobel), the legendary Claire Bannwarth from France, and other "elite" runners attending (such as some members of the UK team). Also, it's not too expensive of a trip to make (and the entry fee is significantly reduced if you ran at least 40-50 yards before). As a bonus, this trip to the UK is a great excuse to continue with a little international vacation when the race is over 🏖️.

Backyard ultras are getting very hard to be eligible to compete on the world stage. But, having a sort of team (so to speak) at Suffolk would help us achieve the world standard on the most competitive backyard year to date.

-Dave

Some more photos...