How I came to love Backyard Ultras

We are one day out from doing the thing again. The thing is standing in a place of extreme uncertainty and discomfort and moving through it. Hopefully with some grace.

This will be the fourth backyard ultra I’ve started. This format of ultrarunning is deeply fascinating to me for reasons ill get to. In my first backyard I went in with a goal that was entirely beyond my capacity. Not physically but mentally. That was the lesson. The body listens to the mind and when the mind stops paddling the body sinks, quickly… Number two was one year ago. I went into Banana Slug with a 200 mile race 6 weeks out and knew I wasn’t going to be able to push myself and explore the places I wanted to. I treated it as a fun training run and knew I wouldn’t go much farther than 70 miles as to not end up on the couch for a month during the peak of my training cycle. I was surprised to find out how much of the psychological training I had done leading up to this showed up during the race. This was the first time in running where a meditative approach completely changed the game. I learned in this race to stop writing the future in my mind and just lean into the moment and everything that came with it. Pain would come and go, fear and wanting would come and go. But what stayed was the moment. I lived in it and found joy. I didn’t want to be finished with a loop. I didn’t want the game to end. I didn’t want to come back to normal life. I was just happy there. Feeling everything. This was the first time of many since, where I was in a race, and I didn’t want it to end. It took some discipline to pull the plug after 15 loops and move on to Tahoe 200.

But that race changed me. It changed my approach to running and practicing mindfulness and It had a very significant impact on me. A few weeks later, during a long training run on the McKenzie River I had a very deep experience. It’s the classic runners high. One that takes a very special form during long, long events. Late in the day, hot, tired and pretty well worked over, I let go of everything and my mind stood still. It became effortless. Time went away. Later on, tomorrow, next week, it all went away. There was only me and trail along a river. I could feel something inside of myself pouring out. It was joy. And it was coming from within.  On the way home I told Hannah about this feeling. Theres something burning inside of me and it’s trying to get out. It’s something that’s not in other people. I realized later on that it is. It’s in every one of us, but it’s very hard to uncover. It takes a miracle to discover it and then a whole lot of courage to nurture it and set it free. But it was that day that I found a fire burning inside me. And honestly it scared the shit out of me. I remember thinking on the way home, holy shit, what if I learn how to let this thing out. And so, I did.

This fire I came to find was just simply knowing that everything about me, all my beliefs, all the stories I’d been telling myself my entire life, they were all bullshit. The fire inside me was learning that I have no idea who I am and who I can become. It was learning that becoming is actually a process of unbecoming and that with the right work and focus I didn’t have to be the version of myself I didn’t like. I could grow to become someone I saw as beautiful. It’s hard to be yourself when you hate yourself and only have shitty things to say when you look in the mirror. But I found myself on a path. A trail. One that led me to myself. A version I love. A version I am happy to see in the mirror and proud that I get to live with every day. A version of myself that I believe in.

For the rest of the year, I rode that train. I did some wild shit that no one thought I was capable of. And that’s the nugget. I learned to believe in myself, shed the stories of who I thought I was and lean into the unknown with nothing but openness. Do the work, believe, and have faith that Ill end up somewhere I want to be.   

All that is to say, I still have a deep level of respect and intrigue for these backyard ultras and the lessons we can learn in them. The opportunities they can provide for becoming (or unbecoming). Somewhere along the trail of the 2023 triple crown of 200s, I realized this crazy ride would be over and that I had leveled up significantly. I had to begin thinking about what was next and look through a different lens when doing so. I had to pick something scary that even me, a person who now fully believed in myself would find nearly impossible. At one point in the middle of the night nearly 200 miles in I muttered “I think I’m gonna make a run at Bigs”. I knew that would bring me back to banana slug exactly one year later, a completely new person capable of completely different things. And I could try to do something special. Something that would require me to find and be my best.

I made the decision. Began planning and signed up for banana slug the first day it was open. I was ready to give this everything. I began announcing my plans. Telling everyone I knew. I am a humble person, so this was strange for me. But it was intentional. I needed to apply pressure. I wanted to be challenged by self-doubt and work through those feelings every day. And so, I did. It was going great. Until it wasn’t. Somewhere along the way I took a wrong turn. I don’t remember where or when, it was sneaky. But I didn’t realize it until I was 150 miles into another backyard ultra. In the middle of the desert. Covered in shit. Trying to find anything that wasn’t a cactus to clean myself up with. “This is not what I came here for”.

After finishing the Moab 240 in October I had a lot of confidence in myself and decided that making the 2024 US team for the Bigdog’s Backyard Ultra Team World Championships was very important to me. I was chatting with the race director of Banana Slug one day and it struck me. Why was I putting all my eggs in one basket? If I wanted a shot at this, I needed to do everything possible. I immediately signed up for another silver ticket race in January and began training for the saguaro showdown.

Things were going fine. I ended up traveling to Arizona with an amazing friend who put everything he had into me. We were having a fine race, until I hated it. Now don’t get me wrong, there are parts of ultras that are for hating. They’re required for the feelings we are rewarded with when we move beyond them. This was different. Somehow during all this I had over indexed on the importance of winning. I came to inhabit a mindset that turned my competitors into enemies. I was meeting all these great new people like one does at an ultra, and immediately wishing them to fail. At one point I saw a new friend eat shit out on a loop and thought “that’s one less person I have to worry about”. In that exact moment I knew I had fucked this all up. I was sick. It was all wrong.  Things went from bad to worse and after 154 miles and a few pairs of shorts. I returned to camp. Fortunately, although my race was over, my experience at this event wasn’t. Me and Thomas went on to crew Meg all the way to the end of the 65^th yard. We got to be a small part of her transcending to Bigs. I got to witness something truly special and, in those moments, deep in her third night of running I saw it all very clearly. She was only able to find this amazing capacity because someone was willing (or stubborn enough) to keep lining up in that box next to her. I remember reflecting back on the triple crown and remembering the help of others that got me through it. This is the spirit of the backyard ultra. By design, we simply can’t do it alone.

Competing with other humans is one of the greatest things I’ve ever experienced. Others have the ability to show us things we aren’t able to summon on our own. The first time I experienced this I knew that competing in ultras was the best way to make myself a better person. But in a normal race, especially in an ultra, we are there for each other. We all just want to go out and see and help everyone do their best. And the cards fall where they do. In the run up to saguaro I’d lost this. It became about something else. And it set me up for some serious suffering. Despite an amazing performance, one that would’ve won any backyard I’d previously entered. One that by most standards is miraculous, I was super disappointed. Not in the performance but in myself. For the first time since I had been a runner, I felt depressed. It took awhile to unpack it all and at first, I was completely over it. I almost withdrew from banana slug. It took weeks to work through it and find the meaning and be ready to even care about running again. But once I understood it all, the path was clear. I knew exactly what to do. Running became fun again. I started checking off every workout and training session. I started eating right, sleeping right and giving a shit. About myself and about others. It was on.

What I learned is what I always knew. These backyards are special because they allow us to explore the edge of ourselves with the help from those around us. You can’t go anywhere in a backyard alone. And because of this they are full of miracles. And it’s the miracles I’m after. Not winning or beating anyone. But being a part of something special. In the lead up to banana slug this year I have been so grateful. I’ve got to meet some amazing people that are absolutely showing up to throw down. And the fact that I am even part of that discussion, the fact that people are expecting me to be a part of that story is amazing and overwhelmingly humbling. Meeting some of my competitors over the last few weeks has been so awesome. There is a group of absolutely amazing human beings that are all coming together to do something special. The volunteers, the crew, the runners, everyone. and I am fortunate enough to be a part of it. I get to use everyone to explore myself and hopefully unlock new potential. That’s what this is all about after all. Banana slug is not about winning. It’s not about doing more than anyone else. It’s about growing into a different version of myself that I couldn’t become without others. A version of myself better suited to serve my community and be better in every relationship I get to be a part of. It’s about settling into some pain and misery and the practice of staying present, finding the stream of joy within and letting it flow. And flow it will.

My goal for Banana Slug is not to win. It’s no longer about Big’s. It’s about coming back to the root of all of this. It’s about setting a big scary personal goal.  One that seems impossible and that I’m not likely to achieve. Its about believing in myself and taking a bet. It’s about showing up and trying to be my absolute best. Because I’ve learned over the last few years, when I go out and give it everything, I’m pretty good at surprising myself. At some point along the way it’s gonna get tough. And I’ll need help. Lots of it. And people will be there with open arms. Ready to make it happen. And together we can do great things.

This is a simple mindset shift. This is my race and I need the help of everyone there including my competitors. I will be so grateful for every person that lines up in that box to start a new loop with me. To sacrifice and suffer to help me reach my goals. This is the spirit of the backyard ultra. This is what I am here for. Because I know this, when there’s a lot on the line greatness has a way of appearing. And this weekend we will see it. It will be on full display. In plain sight. And let me tell you, It’s contagious. You should come watch.