race report

WausaUltra Backyard

Friday, April 29, 2022

Wausau, WI

About The Race

If you are reading this, I am assuming you already know what a “Backyard” race is, but just in case, here is a cliff notes. A backyard race is a relatively new format that has risen to prominence in recent years. It does not have a predetermined end mileage or time. Instead, runners have one hour to navigate a 4.167-mile loop. Runners can go as fast or as slow as they like as long as they complete that loop within the hour. Every runner who completes the first loop is eligible to begin the second loop which starts at the top of the hour. That continues until there is only one runner remaining. There are some nuances about how a runner technically wins, and there are certain circumstances when there is no winner, but I don’t want to get too far into the weeds. Every runner except the winner is considered a DNF, that is, he or she did not finish the race. For obvious reasons, this race format is often called a Last Man/Woman/Person Standing race.

This particular Backyard event is held at Sylvan Park in Wausau, a small city in central Wisconsin. Sylvan Park is just that, a park on the edge of town that is home to nature trails, and its hills are utilized during the winter for tubing. More about the hills later. Additionally, the team at WausaUltra gets my Best Race Name award for forming a portmanteau that blends the city and the style of race into a creative but simple name. The course is well put together and lends itself nicely to this type of race. Despite a late spring in WI this year, the course was wonderful. The hilltops offer some terrific views, and the wooded sections are just what you would expect. Some trees and plants were still bare, but it didn’t take away from the atmosphere at all. I would love to return to the course sometime once more of the vegetation has grown up and experience it in its full beauty.

Bigger Than The Trail

As many know by this point, I am an ambassador for Bigger Than The Trail. I usually do a fundraiser around my birthday where I seek donations for the organization. However, this year I thought it would be fun to try and raise funds in a different way. I did a fundraiser centered around this event. While people were still able to make a lump-sum donation, I really pushed for per-mile pledges and kicked it off with a $3/mile pledge of my own. I set my goal at $1500 with an estimated mileage of 100. People in my social and professional network stepped up, and I collected pledges totaling $16.46 per mile. My community had done their part to help me raise money, now I was on the hook to do my part and run as many miles as I could.

For those who are unaware, Bigger Than The Trail is a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt organization that is using trail running as a platform to advocate for mental health. We know the barriers that people face when seeking mental health services, particularly time and money. Many insurances don’t cover mental health services, and having to pay out of pocket can keep many people from seeking help. When individuals do seek help, they often run into wait times that exceed several months to meet with a professional. We partner with an online counseling service to provide free, immediate access to those who reach out for help, no questions asked. More information on Bigger Than The Trail can be found through the link at the close of this report.

Prerace Prep

As with most races in Wisconsin, I decided not to stay in a hotel and instead woke up at 5:00, went through my prerace morning routine of coffee and packing, and was out the door on my way to Wausau by 6:00. On my way to the race, I made a stop at Fleet Farm to pick up a pop-up canopy. I didn’t have one, and with rain in the forecast, I thought it would be nice to have a base camp that would keep all of my gear dry. Yes, you read that correctly. I picked up what was arguably one of my most important pieces of gear on my way to the race.

I got to the park about two hours before the start time, picked up my packet, and began setting up camp. I happened to set up camp right next to Wyatt Massey. Growing up, Wyatt went to a rival school, so I have known of him since we were young and played against him on more than a few fields and courts. But growing up in small towns, rival schools have less intense relationships. When you only have 20 kids in your class, you tend to make friends with the neighboring schools. Wyatt and I weren’t friends growing up, but we were friendly. Reconnecting with him in the running world as an adult has been fun. We got the chance to chat for a bit as he and his crew helped me set up camp. After my camp was set up I paid the favor forward by helping another runner set up his tent before returning to mine and starting to get ready.

There’s an adage in ultrarunning that goes “it’s not if something goes wrong, but when.” Every race has its pitfalls. There are too many variables to account for, and there is no sense in trying to perfect them all. Something will go wrong. For me, this came true before the race even started. I was sitting in my chair when I felt something poke into my leg. I looked down and saw that, sure enough, my chair had broken. I could still sit in it, but it wasn’t comfortable and was a bit unsteady. I started working trying to fix it and struck up a conversation with the other neighbors. Every one of them offered me one of their chairs to replace mine. I’ve said it before, and I’m going to keep saying it, ultrarunners are one of the kindest groups of people I have ever come across. Nowhere else are people so helpful and giving to their direct competition. I took a rain check expressing appreciation but saying (hoping) the chair would hold out for the day. We continued to get to know each other until just before race time. I even found out that Kyle and I had attended the same university and had both run the Arctic Frog 50k in December of 2021. Shortly we made out way to the starting line.

Loop 1,2,3

We lined up in the corral, waited for the countdown, and then we were off. Nearly everybody who ran out of the starting gate quickly slowed down after a few hundred feet as we came to the foot of the first hill. The loop opens with a 150 to 200-foot climb over roughly 0.75 miles of mixed gravel, then dirt trail. There were a few short runnable sections, but overall the grade was steep enough that anybody interested in running more than a few loops hiked the majority of this section so as to not burn out too quickly.

To open the race, I was completely in my head, analyzing everything, and planning for what I hoped to be many more loops. The first loop I wanted to scout. I wanted to know every section, where to run, where to hike, what to watch out for, etc. I wanted everything to become automatic as the race went on, so I didn’t have to waste energy on thinking or decision making as brian fog would surely set in later in the race.

After reaching the top of the first climb, you immediately drop back down the hill through a grassy section, turn around to climb it again, then head back down through a soft mulched area. Strategy in this section was interesting to watch at the beginning, and as the race evolved. I am one that tends to run downhill fast and out of control. I let gravity do the work, and just keep my legs spinning fast enough to not fall. But I could tell that other, more experienced runners were taking these downhills slower. I put that note in the back of my head for later.

The 1.5 mile mark brings you past the start/finish line and opens into a valley section that is relatively runnable. Given the recent weather conditions, and the fact that water runs downhill, this also happened to be the muddiest section of the course. Some especially swampy areas had bottlenecks as runners waited to hopscotch on rocks across large puddles. Other areas developed goat trails as runners chose to navigate around the puddle as opposed to through it. In a race of this type, keeping my feet dry and in good condition is one of the most important strategies that I can employ. Despite the care I took in navigating these areas, it is inevitable that my feet were going to get wet.

Mile 2 brings the last big climb on the course. Runners make the roughly 150-foot climb again, however this time it is only over 0.25 miles. This is where I excelled. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy most uphill sections of races. Unlike the gravel and grass climbs before, this one was 100% dirt with rocks and roots. I made relatively quick work navigating to the top and passing several other runners in the process.

The top of the hill brings a relatively flat section as runners navigate the outskirts of a high school sporting complex. Runners would later be the backdrop to a softball game and track practice. The one downside to this section was that there was nothing to block the wind. The weather was relatively good for running, mid-50’s, and a bit of cloud cover, but the wind was strong. This section felt much colder and the stiff wind provided more than a little bit of resistance. There is a portion of this section where the course crosses through a fence that I named the gate despite no actual gate being present. The gate would serve as a nice landmark to check pace and ensure that I was on time to complete the loop.

After roughly a mile of this relatively runnable rolling terrain, the last downhill section comes up, a very rocky technical, relatively steep descent. While I tend to excel and make time up on the uphills, I absolutely love this type of downhills. High Cliff State Park relatively close to my apartment has a section like this on Lime Kiln Trail. I absolutely love bombing down it at full speed. I’ve learned how to position my feet on rocks so as to not lose my footing, where and when to start slowing for turns, and just generally how to read this type of terrain. I even developed a technique somewhat like a gallop that helps me to get both feet firmly planted at the same time in order to get a bit of extra stability. My time at High Cliff paid off well here and I made my way quickly down the hill. The bottom of this section has a few little rollers, a relatively flat section with multiple bridge crossings, then a short climb back up to the start/finish line.

The first three loops were fairly similar. I kept my mind focused on learning the course and taking in the intricacies. I knew I was going a little bit faster than I needed to, finishing the first laps in 47, 45, and 45 minutes respectively. But I was taking my interloop time to sit down, fuel and hydrate properly, and set myself up. I was confident that getting ahead in these areas now would more than makeup for the little bit of additional energy I was using. The day started out a touch chilly but eventually warmed to a decent temperature. I made several clothing changes in the first loops before finally settling in and getting comfortable in a singlet and my short shorts.

Groundhog Day

I had taken all of my mental notes, and now it was time to just drop into a rhythm and become automatic. I slowed my pace down a little bit and began to walk some of the downhill sections that I knew might be liable to cause blisters as the race went on. I started to focus on consistency; I wanted every loop to be the same. I wanted a routine that I didn’t have to think about so that all my capacity could be focused on running. I set up benchmarks: 25 minutes to mile 2, 36 minutes to the gate, 45 minutes to the first bridge. If I hit these I would have no problem completing the loop and still have enough time to make any changes necessary to begin the next loop. At interloop, I sat down immediately, ate one of my bars, I was switching between Epic and Clif bars, and hydrated. Much of these middle loops blend together for me, and I don’t remember a whole lot. After about loop 4, I lost count of where we were at. Had somebody told me that I was on loop 6 or 16, I would have believed it. But neither number would have made a difference; my approach to each lap was the same.

I took this time to chat with some of the runners that I fell into pace with. I caught up with Wyatt, talked about life, work, and running, and reminisced a bit about our high school days. I got to know Kyle a little bit more. I met Matt who was wearing the shirt of another race located close to where I grew up. Unlike a typical race where I may spend a little bit of time with a person before one of us speeds up or slows down leaving the other to themselves, I spent a lot of time with other runners in this race format because after every hour you reset and start in the same group. This made trail talk conducive.

Only two events really stick with me about these middle loops. Somewhere around what must have been loop 5, I caught my foot on a rock and ate shit bombing down the last downhill section. I got some minor scrapes on my left shoulder, forearm, and hand where I caught my fall. My biggest concern after this was that I would either start to swell or tighten up. Something relatively minor like this has to potential to cause issues as it compounds over the course of hours. Luckily, other than a little bit of soreness, this never developed into an issue for me. The second thing I remember is that somewhere around what must have been loop 8, the track team that was practicing at the high school stopped practice to cheer us on. I’m not one for pomp and circumstance, in fact, the low-key nature of ultras is one of the many things I love. But I can’t deny that this was a mental pick me up that felt good.

In these middle sections, I held together mentally and physically much better than I could have hoped for. I felt great. I remember coming into the start/finish at one point dancing to the music with a smile on my face. I was loving every second of the experience. I also want to take a moment to thank Wyatt’s crew. I was running the race uncrewed, and Ben and Mary were awesome offering me help, cheering me on, and grabbing me aid station items at several points. Despite not asking for a thing, they showed up with the perfect item on several occasions and I am incredibly thankful for their help.

Despite feeling great, the rest of the field narrowed quite a bit during this time. I haven’t crunched the numbers to know this for a fact, but loops 6 to 10 seemed to drop the field by half. The race had a large DNF bell hung up near the start/finish which runners would ring to signify the end of their race. Part of the significance of the bell was to celebrate the effort and accomplishment that each runner had put forth throughout the day. But there is a somber note to it as well. Making the decision to drop, no matter the conditions or the accomplishment is difficult. I remember this somber feeling in stark contrast to how great I was feeling.

I finished loops 4 through 7 in 50 minutes each, loop 8 in 51 minutes, loop 9 in 50 minutes, and loop 10 in 49 minutes. This consistency is exactly what I was hoping for. I was damn near robotic. I knew the times I wanted to hit, and I hit them. 25 minutes to mile 2, 36 minutes to the gate, 45 minutes to the first bridge, every single loop. I had plenty of time to eat, drink, and address any needs. I switched my socks twice in this time to stave off blisters and trench foot. I was headed into the night feeling good.

Night Runs

Day turned to night as we donned our headlamps and continued out on our way. I was ready for things to start getting rough. Night can do funny things to a runner. Exhaustion sets in as the light goes away. At worst, runners can experience hallucinations. But even without hallucinations, a glimpse of a strange shadow as the headlamp falls across an unknown object can make me uneasy. The interesting scenery of the day is traded in for nothing except the 10 feet ahead of me illuminated by my headlamp. Distractions go to nothing as I am left alone with only my thoughts. My night running experience is relatively limited, so I was fully prepared for a battle. While my spirits were high during the day, they began to crash at night.

I tacked a few minutes onto my loop time. While taking the downhills faster during the day was fine, navigating them in the low light was stupid if not dangerous. Loop 12 is where the thought of dropping first crossed my mind. Sure I had set out to run 100 miles, but surely 50 was still respectable right? Nobody was going to think less of me. But I marched ahead. I remembered that today I was running for more than myself. The more miles I ran, the more money I raised. I forced myself to line back up for loop 13 and head out. I broke through the first wall out on loop 13 and started to feel a little bit better.

Over the next several loops, I don’t remember talking much. I was around other runners for good portions of the loop, but I was completely absorbed in my own head. Thankfully, the course was second nature by this point, because I was not paying attention to anything. I simply forced myself forward. One of the saving graces was that the bad weather had been pushed later into the forecast. The low overnight was uncharacteristically warm so long as I kept moving. Many runners continued through the night in shorts and a light jacket. The poor weather would not become a factor until much later in the race.

Loop 16 was another rough one for me. I don’t normally listen to anything while I run, especially during races. I enjoy fully taking in the experience and scenery. I like the trail talk and learning about new people or catching up with old friends. But I knew that this was a different experience. I had my headphones packed and podcasts loaded up on my phone just in case I needed some distraction. I was desperately trying to make it into the morning. The rising sun is a mental boost that can help raise spirits and renew a runner’s drive. So to start loop 17 I threw on a podcast and completely zoned out.

DNF

I continued loop 17 and finished in 54 minutes. I was starting to take too much time during the loop and was having to sacrifice what I needed to do with my interloop time. I was getting to the point where I needed to change socks again. My feet had been falling apart the last time I had seen them and that was hours ago. I also didn’t eat enough food and I was failing to take any with me. This is the point where a crew probably would have helped tremendously. I needed somebody to remind me to eat or at least shove food in my pockets to eat while on the run. My thought process was beginning to dwindle, and I had entered a deficit that I would not recover from. At that point, I decided again to quit. But by now I was on autopilot and showed up in the corral to start loop 18 before I realized what I was doing. Having started the loop, the easiest option felt like it was to keep moving forward. Looking back, that is a mental space I cannot describe. I was convinced that continuing forward 4.167 miles was going to be easier than turning around and walking 100’ backward to quit.

I pushed through loop 18 and felt utterly defeated. At the close of loop 18, I sat down on a picnic table located no more than 15 feet past the start/finish line. I didn’t have enough energy to make it back to my tent to refuel and rehydrate. I was convinced that this was the end of my day. One of the race directors noticed the condition I was in and came over immediately to help. He grabbed me a bite to eat and refilled my handheld bottle. Had he not jumped in to help me, I would have stayed right there and watched the few remaining runners start loop 19 without me. I cannot describe how thankful I am for that small act!

Because I was still only a few feet from the start line, I made it to the start of loop 19. I was in a dark spot and lacked the energy to run even the flattest, most runnable sections of the course. I would head out for a couple quick steps before slowing again to a hike. My feet desperately needed to be addressed, and the lack of proper nutrition during the last few loops was getting to me. I traversed the course still holding out for sunlight. I knew that it would be coming soon, and if I could push through, maybe things would turn around a little bit. I reached the start/finish as the three-minute warning to start loop 20 was called out.

Mentally this crushed me. I knew I didn’t have enough time to do everything I needed to do. And if I skipped the changes I needed to make, failing to change socks, catch back up on nutrition, and sit for a minute, I was certain I wouldn’t finish the next loop in time. I stared at the DNF bell for a moment, contemplating ringing it right there. But I was determined to give my best effort. I had pushed through several phases of wanting to quit and was still going, I would try to push through this one as well. I headed into the aid station to try and grab something to eat and drink. I went as fast as I could, but by the time I emerged, the one-minute warning was already being called out. At that point, I knew that I was out of time to make the remaining corrections and walked over to ring the bell. I wrapped up my day at 5 a.m. after completing 19 loops and logging 79.17 miles, earning myself the #6 spot. This would amount to over $1300 in funds raised for Bigger Than The Trail, virtually tie my longest mileage PR, and break my longest time PR.

Post Race

After my race wrapped up, I immediately went over to my tent to put warmer clothes on. The weather was fine as long as I was moving forward, but once I stopped a deep chill set in. Then I pulled my chair over to a section with heaters and was offered a blanket by another race director. I took a moment to cry. Once again, I had failed to meet my goal of 100 miles, but this time, I also felt like I was letting down Bigger Than The Trail, because failing to meet my mileage goal also meant I was failing to meet my fundraising goal. But my tears were not all of disappointment, I was already having mixed emotions that would continue even now as I write this a week later. Despite my shortcoming, I was content with the effort I had put forth. I had given everything I had and did not regret or second guess one single decision I made. I knew that despite not achieving the end results I had hoped for, I should be proud of what I accomplished. These thoughts went through my mind as I drifted in and out of shallow sleep.

At some point, I remember waking up and cheering runners on as they completed loop 20. Then I decided to head over to my car, turn the heat on, and fall asleep again. I set a timer for 45 minutes so I could again greet the remaining runners as they closed out loop 21. After this, I started packing up my equipment and getting ready to go. I thanked Ben and Mary for their help, talked with Wyatt a bit, and chatted with all of the race directors and other runners who had dropped and were either still hanging around or returning after getting some rest. I’ll say it again, everybody at the race was incredible. They epitomize the warm community that ultra has come to be known for. I was determined to watch runners come in for the completion of the 24th loop, but eventually, exhaustion got the better of me. I still had to drive home and didn’t want to take any chances on the road. I said goodbyes and made my way home stopping once on the way for an additional hour nap. I continued to follow the race tracker and Instagram updates as I got home and was inspired by the performances of my fellow runners. Weather took a turn for the worse but other runners were still sticking out and battling for the top spot. Wyatt would eventually go on to win by running 125.00 miles.

In Reflection

This race report has been the strangest to write, hands down. I don’t know if it was the repetitive nature of the race format, my mindset that day, a combination of the two, or something completely unrelated, but I remember very little of the race. I know I had many conversations with a lot of different runners, but I remember almost none of them. Other than a few standout moments, most of the race itself is a blur. I don’t remember eating, but the amount of bar wrappers I found in my tote and pockets means I must have. I remember changing socks once, but when I got home I had four dirty pairs. I remember filling my handheld up two or three times, but gallon jugs of electrolyte drink I had brought with me were empty.

What I can say for certain though, is that this was a wonderful experience! As I mentioned at the top, the course was incredible. Everybody, race directors, participants, and volunteers alike, was friendly, kind, and helpful. The format was much more challenging than I had expected, and I had to dig deep and push myself. This is everything I am looking for in a race. I am definitely looking forward to returning in the future and continuing to push myself.

Despite failing to hit the 100-mile goal twice now, I am still convinced that it is well within my ability. Your goals are bull shit if you reach them easily.

Proud to Partner With:

Bigger Than The Trail

Ornery Mule Racing

Shoes: Saucony – Mad River TR & Xodus ISO 3

Wearables: Garmin - Forerunner 945, Oura Ring

Nutrition: ATH - supplements, Nuun Hydration - electrolytes, Epic Provisions - Venison Bar, Clif Bar - Dark Chocolate Mocha Bar

Recovery: ATH - Post, Nuun Hydration - Recover, FitAid - FitAid Rx Zero, Freeze Sleeves