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2025-10-27

The best worst idea of 2025

Last modified 2025-10-27 21:30

February 22nd, that was the day I registered for the Backyard Ultra in Zeewolde.

And that was because I read something about it in the Trail Events newsletter and thought: That seems like a fun thing to do...

Of course, that's a bad idea, and at home, I just said, "Oh, by the way, I'm away for a weekend in October..." without giving details because that would naturally only lead to tricky questions.

Because yes... DUDE, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS??

Good question.

Every year, I try to find a challenge big enough to make me doubt if I can do it. For example, I've done my first marathon (Mud Masters, because running on the road "is just too boring"), an Iron Man (I couldn't swim properly then...), renovating a house (a super good idea with a baby on the way...).

Let's just say, I'm a follower of the Pippi Longstocking method: I've never done it, so I think I can do it πŸ’ͺ

Ok, but why the Backyard Ultra then?

Simply because it's such an idiotic idea. Starting on the hour, running a loop, and then being ready in time for the next loop. And another one. And another one. And then continuing until only 1 person remains and the guarantee that you always lose (Ok, except Onno then πŸ˜…). This means you mainly have to see how far you get yourself, and how.

I'm not entirely unfamiliar with these kinds of challenges; years ago, I ran loops in the Ardennes "to see how far I could go" (I lasted 79km), really just for fun and the fascination of seeing how far you can actually go.

Good.

That doesn't explain everything yet, but without getting too much into psychoanalysis, you'll have to make do with this.

And come on, isn't this just really cool? With 200 other nutcases doing the same thing? Of course, you're going to do it.

The preparation

A 6.7km loop is not that much, of course, and having an hour to do it sounds very long too. Normally, I take about 32 minutes for that if I run my normal pace (4:50/km for those interested). But you won't keep that up for hours and hours. Not me, anyway.

But what is the ideal strategy then? How much time do you really need between the loops? πŸ€·β€β™‚οΈ

I scoured the internet looking for experiences from others who have done this before. You quickly find out that 45 - 50 minutes is the target time for many runners. That gives you well over 10 minutes to prepare for the next loop.

Now, running slowly is quite a task; especially with my height, I just need a little speed to run comfortably. With some calculations in Excel, I figured out that a schedule of 3km, 400m, 3km, 300m should be manageable for me. So roughly this:

Total about ~43 minutes. Close.

That offers enough room to slow down or walk more if needed and still have comfortable time at the base camp.

And now, train!

Ultimately, it's about spending enough time on your feet to get used to those distances and duration. That mainly means a lot of training volume, but that's quite a challenge with two young children and work 😬

What will also be a challenge during the race is that it's going to take a long time (if all goes well!) so it might get quite boring running the same loop over and over...

That's why it's also important to train mentally. To do that, I mapped out a 3.3km training loop so I would do the loop twice as often, just to make it as boring as possible. And wow, it was boring. At one point, I was completely fed up with that loop, and you start thinking what a bad idea this is...

In the end, I managed fairly well to get the pace down and closer to the 6:00/km.

But then...

Did I mention I have young children?

They have those beautiful wooden Stokke chairs, rock-solid and practically indestructible, which is really a requirement for children (at least for mine πŸ˜…)

What turned out not to be indestructible was my little toe. A collision with one of these chairs meant I couldn't run for about 7 weeks.

Not ideal.

But oh well, luckily we still have a road bike, so I could still train conditionally πŸ’ͺ Fortunately, I could run again without problems afterward, and training was back on.

Until I got sick... yay kids.

And I got better and could train again... (narrator: But what he didn't know, there was more to come)

In short, my physical preparation left something to be desired.

Preparation (2): Crew

You can certainly do a Backyard Ultra alone, but it's very nice to have a crew with you who can take care of replenishing food and drinks, handing over clean and dry clothes, and, of course, providing the necessary mental support during the rest moments between the loops.

Since the backyard is primarily a mental challenge besides a physical one, you have to think carefully about who you ask to join. Because if you last long, your crew will also have to be able to do so.

What was important to me was that my crew shouldn't have too much pity for me. Come on, you chose this yourself, didn't you?

It was immediately clear who my first crew member would be: Jelle. We've already had quite a few adventures together and know each other inside out, in good times but certainly also in difficult ones.

But well, a second person is handy, but who? I asked Jelle, "If you had to choose another unforgiving bastard, who would you take?" to which he immediately replied "Michael," and indeed, that was the perfect choice πŸ‘Œ Although we haven't known each other for a super long time or very well, he's the kind of person you immediately know you're on the same page with and feel like you've known each other for years.

A few weeks before the event, we discussed the plans and expectations together, not only for if things went well but also for if things weren't going smoothly. My goal was at least to be taken out during a loop and not to give up before the start of a loop. Or as I said then: "Even if you have to throw me into the starting corral".

Preparation (3): Gear

What do you take with you? Yes, shoes, okay, but which ones? How many?

Will it rain? Not? How warm will it be? How cold?

Backpack? No?

You get it, in the end, you take everything πŸ˜…

Of all the gear choices, shoes were the trickiest for me. I did most of my training in my trusty Brooks Ghosts, but they are not trail shoes, and if the course gets muddy, that's not really ideal no matter how comfortable they are. So what to do? Two pairs of Ghosts or one pair of Ghosts and the Salomon Speedcross?

I ultimately chose the latter. If it got muddy, I could always switch to a coarser tread to maintain traction.

Race day

Early in the morning, I threw all the gear into the car and patiently waited for my crew so we could leave. Although you could enter the grounds from 8:30 AM, I consciously chose to go a bit later; the briefing wasn't until 1:00 PM, and the start was at 2:00 PM. I wasn't keen on waiting around for a long time until we could finally start, and I think the nerves would have played too big a role then.

But oh well, it's Saturday, so what happens? Exactly, roadwork on the highway... and thus closed roads, and thus a traffic jam...

Fortunately, we had plenty of time and arrived at the grounds just past 12:30 PM. After convincing the barrier that we were really allowed in, we arrived at the first Backyard crew member: "Yeah, uh, you can see it's a bit of chaos..." No, I don't see anything at all πŸ˜‚

The instruction was to unload the gear, park the car, and then go to the site. Here too, it was great that I had two crew members because Michael and I started unloading and hauling everything while Jelle parked the car. (Fun detail, a bus was stuck in the mud, but Jelle was told, "just put it somewhere, you won't get stuck anyway," a Land Rover is quite handy like that πŸ˜…)

Picking up my bib number went super smoothly, and I was quickly helped to find our spot at the base camp. That was surprise number 1... we were right next to the loop, less than 20m from the starting corral! This is starting well.

Because the briefing would start soon, I immediately focused on preparing for the race, changed my clothes, checked my backpack, filled water bottles, and put on my shoes. Jelle and Michael got busy with the party tent to set up our camp.

The Race Briefing

Short but sweet; everyone had already read up on it, after all, and everything had already arrived well in advance via email, so no surprises.

What was a surprise, though, was that the vast majority of participants were doing a Backyard Ultra for the first time. I didn't expect that!

After the briefing, we immediately continued with the final checks and laying out gear for the race so everything was on hand for the rest breaks.

And then, wait...

Go go go!

Although I managed to keep myself calm for the past 2 hours, the tension was now truly palpable. Everyone was already gathering in the starting corral well before the 3-minute signal was to be given. You noticed that everyone was really charging up, and it was becoming real for everyone.

The atmosphere was truly bizarrely good. This was the moment I realized we were all going to do something really cool together. Of course, you do it yourself, but it also felt to me like we were going to do this as a group.

13:57 Three loud whistles was the signal that we were 3 minutes before the start.

Start and stop my watch two more times to make sure everything works; you never know...

13:59 One more whistle... 😱

14:00 Bang! We're off! πŸŽ‰πŸŽ‰πŸŽ‰

Where in a normal race you see everyone sprinting away, it was quite different here πŸ˜‚ It was the most relaxed start I've ever experienced, clearly everyone realized we would be busy for a while and didn't want to go too fast.

That only lasted a few hundred meters because I (and many others with me) still hit the gas just to get the feel of it and have some space around me. Hey, enthusiasm, people, I'll really slow down later... right.

This was also the moment when it would finally become clear to me what kind of terrain we were going to be running on. After 1.5 km, we turned onto a mountain bike path, and there were the first small hills. Here it also became clear that everyone here is an experienced runner because it was immediately walking uphillβ€”saving energy!

After 2.5km, it immediately became clear that my race plan was not going to work at all. From that point, we were running on a narrow single-track mountain bike path, and there was no way I could start walking from 3km because everyone would be queuing behind me... First test of mental flexibility then.

Here, I decided to just run through the first loop calmly and use it to get a feel for the terrain and the possibilities so I could pace the following loops better. That turned out to be a good choice because it also gave me a chance to warm up and release the pre-start tension. Just past 4.5km was a dike ascent, which turned out to be a great spot to walk and immediately eat and drink something. Going over the dike led exactly to 5km, which was another good starting pointβ€”it's as if the Backyard gods wanted it that way.

I was back at the base camp in 43:25. What a feeling, hey, the first yard was done!

I saw the race director walking around in the corral and immediately went up to him. I shook his hand and said something like, "I have to thank you already; it's only 1 loop, but this is so cool!" I think he liked it πŸ˜…

Afterward, I quickly went to the tent to consult with my crew and let them know what my plan would be. Regarding shoes, I was perfectly fine with my Brooks Ghost. The terrain was dry enough, and I had enough traction, so I just kept pushing on the trusty shoes πŸ‘Œ

Beep-beep-beep, okay, next loop, let's go!

Loop 4 (or 5 πŸ€”?)

As I write this, I realize how much I've already forgotten... So much happens, and you experience a lot, that it's difficult to keep everything consciously in your head.

So yes, was it loop 4 or 5? No idea, but that's not that important for the story either.

What happened was that I got a lot of trouble with my left knee, something I've had issues with in the past and which once caused me to stop running for 2 months. Bad news.

What do you do then? Just push through for a bit and see if it goes away. (Narrator: It didn't go away) Okay, then let's walk for a bit and think. Should I use a different strategy? Walk more often?

Until a light bulb went on... I realized I was just running strangely 😬 Because I was running at a much slower pace than I usually do, I was landing heavily on my midfoot, which meant I wasn't "cushioning" myself enough while running. And with the hard surface in some sections, that turned out not to be the best way (no kidding).

Then I adjusted my strategy and chose to run a little faster so that I would run more of my "normal" stride, and that turned out to be the key. The pain disappeared, and confidence immediately returned. I think this is one of those classic ultra moments: "oh crap, it's not working as I expected, now what?".

What helped me here is that I spent quite a bit of time on visualizations in my preparation so that I had, as it were, already experienced these moments and they were less of a surprise. This was exactly a scenario I had already thought about, so I could switch quickly without spending much mental energy.

Loop 6: Into the dark!

It's 7:00 PM now, and the headlamp is truly necessary. I always find running in the dark very special; your world shrinks, and your focus must increase to compensate for seeing less detail and depth. For the next yards, we will be moving through the forest like a lantern parade. After a few loops, I suddenly realize I should also look around, and it's a very cool sight to see all those lights moving through the forest.

It's also just fun, people, not just suffering.

Loop 8: The Ultra!

We are now past 50km, and that means we've hit the ultra distance πŸ’ͺ I hear things around me like "now you'll see a lot of people dropping out," well, that wasn't the case! Loops 9 and 10 still had many runners, which says a lot about the Backyard participants. No quitters here!

Loop 11: What is your goal, actually?

I was chatting a bit with the other runners in the starting corral when someone asked, "So, what's your goal, actually?" to which I replied: "Well, I'm already at 10 loops more than I expected..."

That certainly caused some furrowed brows, but when I explained that my preparation hadn't been fantastic and I'd be very happy with just 1 yard, they understood.

And that's exactly what it was. I entered this race with the idea that every loop was a win. I had no idea what to expect, how my body would hold up, and certainly not how it would be mentally.

I have done long events before, but every time is different, and I must admit, I'm not 20 anymore either, so things don't just happen "easily" anymore.

This just goes to show that the feeling from that first yard has carried me this far. That tastes like more.

Loop 13

At the start, there is a chalkboard with the number of loops, the distance so far, and the number of runners still in the race. And sometimes there is something extra there, and now there was: 2 marathons. Right, 84km and a bit. That's quite a 'hell of a distance,' as they say in Rotterdam.

The strange thing is that I saw that and thought "heh, funny" but didn't even realize how far that actually is πŸ˜…

At this point, I still felt very good; I had completed all the yards so far in an average of 43 minutes. I never expected to run so consistently for so long. Then you start thinking that something might be possible...

When we were all standing in the starting corral, the announcement came: "People, loop 15 is the hundred kilometers, which means no one is allowed to drop out for the next two loops!" Hilarity all around πŸ˜‚

Loop 14

Getting going at the start is really starting to get tough; it now takes almost a kilometer before the upper legs are awake and doing what they should 😬 Still, it feels good, and nothing is seriously wrong yet. We are on our way to 100!

Loop 15

This is it, 100km, people. The feeling at the start is just a little more special again; I've never run this far. Okay, that was already true at loop 12, but now it's "real," and 100km is a nice number, right?

The start was quite stiff, just like the previous loop; I notice I'm waddling away more and more like a penguin. Luckily, I'm not the only one; that helps put it in perspective.

About 2.2km into the loop, I noticed it wasn't running smoothly, so I took a small break, just enough to get through the rest of the loop like the previous ones. The pace did drop a bit, and this was the first time I exceeded 50 minutes. Signs of deterioration...

This was already noticeable because during the "normal" 4.5km break, I could barely manage to eat my energy bar. From previous ultras, I know this is always a bad sign 😬

Loop 16

Tough.

That is the best description for this loop. Just before the 3km mark, I had to start walking because it didn't feel good anymore and was already a huge struggle. But oh well, this is part of it. Walked half a kilometer and then started running again.

But not for long... after 400m, I started walking again to regroup. The moment to push through had arrived.

What I noticed here was that the feeling of giving up was completely absent; that was a remarkable realization. I was mainly busy thinking of alternatives and denying that it could mean this would be the last yard.

I got myself going again and was able to run again until the 4.5km mark. A bit of walking up the dike and running through again... for a little while 😬 Walking again, down the dike, and then I saw that time was starting to run out.

Still, I pushed the pace and ran.

I managed it; I made it across the line in time, with 55:25 on the clock.

And then it was done.

I have never been so empty, and once across the finish line, I really had to hug the ground to recover...

After a few minutes, I knew that the Backyard Ultra would stop for me at 16 yards. Another runner who was also done said, "Come on, we're still in time, we're going to start at least."

So we did that.

Loop 17

The 80m loop

Since I was on time for the start and another runner dragged me upright, I did indeed start again.

I had told myself to run "to the corner" and then turn around. But once underway, I still thought: "But what if I keep going?"

I think it was better for everyone that I stopped anyway πŸ˜‚

Once back at the start, I went to check out with the race management. And then the moment arrives when you are handed a marker and you put DNF behind your name on the big poster.

It is special how that feels; it is a moment of pride that you did this and kept it up for 16 loops and thus 16 hours. At the same time, a kind of disappointment that it didn't become more.

But what prevails is the feeling of victory and that it went better than I could have hoped for.

The End

Yes, then it's finished.

And then you know that a quite significant group is still busy and will continue to be for a while. That puts everything into perspective...

And even if you know that the end of the Backyard is not yet in sight for that group, it still doesn't matter. I reached my goal, and that is more important than anything.

I know one thing for sure: I will do this again.

Finally

Without the help of Jelle and Michael, I would never have been able to get this far. Thanks, guys!

I also want to thank the organization of the Backyard Ultra for their dedication; it was truly a top event πŸ‘Œ