Capital Backyard Last Person Standing Report

SKIP this paragraph if you understand the Backyard/last-person-standing race format:

Start. Run a 4.16 mile loop in under one hour. Stop and wait for the clock to strike the next hour. Repeat the loop. If at any time you fail to complete the loop in under one hour, or fail to start the loop at precisely the top of the hour, you're out. Repeat until only one person completes the loop. This could take days.

No, you can't bank time. That's why I said "Stop and wait." Read the BBC article if you're not following. 

--

Well, it's definitely not me; I was not the last person standing. By the time the race ended, I had slept for the better part of 20 hours. The only race I've ever won was the 2015 4 MPH Challenge, also a last person standing event, so I went in thinking I could do well. I'd wanted to try another for a while, and a DC race organizer/runner friend told me about the Capital Backyard in 2019 before it even officially became a thing. I signed up for the first edition in 2020, and was excited to try and go for two days. Then I realized that what my brain read as March was actually May, and realized I could get my butt kicked by humidity. I rolled my 2020 entry over because of my hamstring injury and the pandemic. The 2020 race was delayed from May to August, making for an even more miserably hot day. I was expecting a similar hot and humid sufferfest this year, but figured I had to go for it. 

Instead it was 50 degrees and raining. Better than 40 degrees and raining, I suppose. The weather didn't take me completely by surprise, as this was forecast a few days in advance, but I wasn't perfectly in the right mindset for it. I brought exclusively warm weather gear with me from California and was hurriedly buying extra compression tights to ward off chafing a few days before. Then the night before I was setting aside the tank-tops and gathering all the windbreakers, fleece, and rain jackets I could muster. 

I had planned to camp at the race start the night before, but it was pouring rain all night, so that didn't seem fun. Instead, I managed to find a ride from one of the only other DC residents running the race the morning of the start, and we arrived in plenty of time before the 8AM gun. I set up in the "no crew" tent that was right next to the starting line, which had 5-6 other runners and plenty of space.   

Prior to the race I thought I might be able to compete fairly well. Or rather, I thought that if I were in great shape, I'd be able to compete, and despite not being in great shape, I'd do OK. (I've run every day this year, and covered a decent amount of miles, but only one race fairly slowly.) My goals were: 1) win, 2) go for two days, 3) beat my previous last-person-standing 114 miles, and 4) die on the course (i.e. get timed out rather than calling it quits between loops.)

Then I saw some YouTubers posted a prediction of the winners. I didn't recognize their #2-#5, but #1? Yeah, I've heard of Brett Maune. Guess I wouldn't be wining this!

Last-person-standing races are great social events, since you're always near the leaders. So the first conversation I had was "Is it pronounced MAWN or MOWWN?" (Neither, it's MOWWNY.) I also met last year's winner, an FBI agent from WV, a snowshoe/winter endurance runner (The Drift 100 in the Wind River Range in Wyoming in early March.), Bruce Trail, Erie Canal, C & O Canal, and CDT thru-hikers/runners.

A happy moment early on [Photo courtesy of Keith Knipling]
 

Eventually my conversational skills waned. My rest time each loop decreased from 12-15 minutes to 9 minutes. Starting with my 15th loop it never got back above 10 minutes. (My splits and full results are available here.*) The weather was pretty obnoxious. It wasn't usually pouring rain, but it did occasionally and was always threatening to. The start/finish of each loop was in an open field with a cold wind ripping through. I'd immediately get chilled when I finished a loop and sat down, and had to wrap a sleeping bag over me and put on a warm jacket while sitting. The first half mile and last half mile were out in the open so I wanted my light jacket for that section. Then the route ducked into the woods with less wind and more body heat, so I'd tie my jacket around my waist. The constant changing took a little bit of extra energy and the cost added up. 

This race was much harder than the 4MPH Challenge. That had 6 mile/90 minute loops, meaning a slower pace and less frequent but longer rest periods. The difference between 10-12 minutes of rest and 15-18 minute rest periods is huge. Also, no one was dropping! The 4MPH Challenge was billed to beginners: run-your-first-ultra style. Almost everyone here had run 100 before. Only 3 people dropped before 12 hours/50 miles, and a 70-year old and 14-year old were still going well into the night.

In the middle of the night, as I'd asked them to, GF, my sister, and a friend called/texted. I didn't have good enough reception to talk much, but I got a little pick-me-up from it. Finally on the 5AM loop the sun started coming up, and the weather was clearly going to be better on day two. Still, I had to tell myself just to keep hanging in there. Just finish this lap and get to 100. 

That worked, barely. 10-12 minutes to spare is enough to change shoes, socks, or compression tights if you need to. Five minutes isn't, since you need to eat, apply anti-chafing lube, maybe poop, etc. My rests were 9 minutes, 9 minutes, 7, 8, 6, 5, 4, 4, 4, 5 (I made it to 100!), then 2. Then, with only two seconds left on lap 25, the 14-year old(!) came sprinting across the finish and collapsed. The ~15 of us remaining were all lined up since we were about to start the next lap, so we all cheered him in. It was an inspirational sight. Perhaps not inspirational enough, since the next lap took me a solid 75 minutes, meaning I timed out. I ran 108.3 miles. I did accomplish my goal of timing out rather than quitting, and this was only the second time I have ever run 100 miles in under 24 hours (albeit 23 hours 55 minutes), so I'm happy with my performance. 

I mooched a ride home from the excellent race cook Mario and slept. I also re-watched Master and Commander, but mostly I slept for 20 hours. When I woke up, I had a splitting headache and the leaders were still going. Steve Slaby would eventually win on lap 57. Earlier this week a last-person-standing event in the UK went for a record 81 hours. I think the more multi-day events I've done and the older I've gotten the worse my brain is responding to sleepless nights. I can't imagine going onto day 4 without real sleep.

Would I do it again? Sure. I think I like it more than fixed-time (e.g. 24-hour) events. The social aspect is nice. I like to try one with perfectly mild weather. Many courses have different day (trail) and night (paved) loops, but due to Covid-mandated last-minute change of venue we had only a single course, though it was a relatively easy trail. That would be an interesting change of pace.

Advice for next time:

  • Crew would be great at this race. They get to see you at every aid station, every 4 miles, and they don't have to drive anywhere! It could especially help after 12 hours when the field starts to thin and I'm getting grumpy.
  • Bring all the shoes. Especially if it's wet/muddy, a fresh pair of maximal cushioned shoes and socks can give you new life. I brought three pairs, but only one had any life--the others were old pairs I had in DC; I didn't know until last minute whether trail or road shoes would be most appropriate.
  • Get a fancy reclining camp chair. The fancier the better. Reclining so you can elevate your feet feels amazing.
  • Make sure your Body Glide containers aren't all empty! Just because you have seven of them doesn't mean there's any left.
  • Run the course(s) beforehand so you know what type of shoes will be best.

What's Next? I'm happy to be fully vaccinated and back in the one-race-a-month swing of things. I'm now signed up for all of the following, and my year is fully booked. I've got my States 2022 lottery qualifier in the bag (Canyons 100K done in April) and I'm already good for Hardrock 2022 lottery but Mogollon Monster will keep me set for 2023. Can I stay healthy, max out on hill training through October, then get fast by December? Let's find out.

June: Black Hills 100

July: Desolate Peaks

August: Kodiak 100K

September: Mogollon Monster 100

October: Cuyamuca 100K, Euchre Bar Massacre

December: California International Marathon

--

*Note that everyone on the results except the winner is listed as DNF. That's just one of the quirks of the guy who popularized this race format. He can call it whatever he wants in his own championship race (for which the Capital Backyard was a qualifier), but honestly I think it's silly. You ran however many loops you ran.

Comments

  1. I’m glad you met your goal of dying on the course :) And that we now know how to correctly pronounce Maune! Congrats on the hundo (+ 8.3). Sounds like tough conditions especially if you have to wait it out in them. See you at Black Hills!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adze Picket Co. (I Love the PCT)

The 50th Year of Trying to Hold the Western States Endurance Run