Herding Skills: A Stepping Stone To Big’s

Ready for the challenge ahead.

I approached this backyard a little differently than usual. In the past I would bring as much gear as possible, bringing all the comforts of home, and have multiple crew members to assist me. However, I wanted to use this event as a practise run for Big’s Backyard in Tennessee (USA) later this year, where I will only be allowed one crew member, and limited on the amount of gear I can bring. My wife Gemma, who has crewed for me at all my backyards and who will be crewing for me at Big’s, was my main crew for this event. It was a practise run for her as much as it was for me. Not wanting to completely restrict ourselves however, we did have other people help out here and there, allowing Gemma a chance to get some occasional rest.

Anyone who has run Herdy’s before will attest to the unique atmosphere that sets it apart from other backyards. Being held in a centralised, city location, it is easily accessible for spectators to get there and show their support. The race village is bustling with people cheering the runners on, creating a contagious energy that drives the participants forward. The course itself goes through a residential area, where locals step out from their houses to offer high 5’s, or shout words of encouragement from balconies. They hold up handmade signs and scribble motivational messages with chalk on the footpath. 

This year, the atmosphere was even more vibrant and energetic. With a world record breaking number of starters – 296 in total – and with no COVID restrictions in place, there were no limits on the number of crew or spectators who could attend. I was lucky enough to have my marquee set up as close to the starting corral as allowed, but even then, I still had to fight through a sea of people to just to make my way to the front. I would run for the first mile or so before I slowed for my first walking break, just to give the field a chance to spread out. It was amazing to see so many people taking part, which also meant there was always someone new to walk or run with. When I reached the finish line each time, there was another sea of people to get through, this time in the form of crews waiting for their runners, and other spectators. The race village was transformed into a lively festival, filled with an electric buzz that was truly infectious.

Huge crowd for the start of yard 1. Image: noeko.

Herdy’s starts on a Friday at 4 in the afternoon, which means within a few laps you are entering the first night. This can be good or bad, depending on what way you look at it. If your goal is say, 12 hours, or 100km, it means that almost all your running is done through the night, which can be quite a challenging period. However, for those people who might have a goal of 24 hours, it means you can get the hard part out the way first and have the second part of your run in the daylight. The further beyond 24 hours you plan on going, the less relevant the start time becomes, you are going to be really tired by that point whichever way you look at it. For me, the first night went by smoothly and I was very methodical with following my plan. I ate what I was meant to and slept when I was meant to. I felt I got proper sleep too (well, as proper as you can get in 15 minutes), which I couldn’t decide whether it was a good thing or not. On one hand it could have meant I was getting good at this napping thing and was getting the recovery I needed, but on the other hand, it could have meant I had started the event already sleep deprived and my body was desperately needing the sleep (I had been awake since 5 o’clock Friday morning). I feel it may have been the latter, because as the night went on, I hit a bit of a rough patch a few laps before sunrise. It wasn’t the worst I’ve felt at a backyard, however at such early stage in the race, it was much worse than what I was expecting. I tried not to dwell on it too much though, because as with any ultra-marathon, if you can hang on to sunrise, you can often find yourself with a new lease of energy to get through the next day. It proved to be true on this occasion, and within a few laps, the sun was shining, I had a refreshing shower, and I was feeling much better again.

There are a few small milestones you pass during that first night, and these can be identified by ‘spikes’ of when people drop out. The first of such is at seven yards, the first lap that pushes you over the marathon distance. There were 21 runners who dropped out at the completion of that lap. The next spike was 26 runners dropping out after ten yards, which is probably just because it is a nice round number, but possibly could have something to do with the fact that it correlated with the start of the ‘witching hours’ – the small hours of the morning where it’s the hardest time to stay motivated. A couple of yards later, after 12 yards (also during the witching hours), which equates to exactly half a day / 50 miles – and 19 runners did not continue. And for the biggest spike of the whole event, 27 runners did not continue after completing the 15th lap. Despite the fact that this saw them through to sunrise, reaching 100km must have seemed too tempting a milestone to drop out at.

With the sun shining, we made a start to a new day. When I structure my plans for backyard events, I have found it more manageable to break each 24-hour period into distinct day and night routines. Night laps are typically quicker with the priority being sleep, whereas day laps are typically more relaxed with more opportunity to embrace the social atmosphere of the event. This way, I can balance my physical needs with the enjoyment of the experience. With about 90 runners remaining after sunrise, there was still plenty of different people to talk to throughout the day. I dropped my pace back and incorporated more walking breaks into my laps. There was no reason to rush back if I didn’t need to sleep. However, as the day went on and the temperatures rose, my pace each lap began to be dictated by how much shade there was. I would “walk the shade” and “run the sun” to limit the amount of time I was exposed. With limited shade, this meant that I was getting to the finish quicker than what I had on the plan, but that worked out well as it gave me more time to bring my body temperature back down before starting the next lap. Gemma would meet me at the finish line with an umbrella, cooling towel, and iced water so I could start cooling down as I made my way back to my marquee. 

As we approached the 24-hour mark, I felt I had handled the day efficiently and, despite the heat, my morale had definitely improved from those pre-sunrise laps. Typically at this stage in a backyard I would be questioning my life choices, wondering why the hell I signed up for yet another one. Feeling like you have run for so long already, yet realising that you are not half, a third, or even a quarter of the way through, can be very disheartening. However, those usual thoughts of “I’m never signing up for another backyard again!” didn’t really come to mind, instead I found myself looking forward to Big’s Backyard. Every challenge I had, I saw as an opportunity to build strength and mental resilience for the coming race.

Not only did we have a world-record number of starters, but we also had a world-record number of participants completing 24 yards. We had 45 people cross the finish line that hour, more than any other event in the world (and that’s including the World Championships). With so many runners, it certainly didn’t feel like we were at the 24-hour point – the starting corral still looked pretty packed, like it could have almost been lap one. There were a lot of new inductees to the 100-mile club too, and very cool to see that many of them were running in their very first backyard ultra. Of these 45, 11 failed to start or finish the next lap, 13 hung around to complete one more lap (almost as if they felt it was cliché to finish at an even 24), and so within just two laps the remaining field had more than halved.

My ‘24’ top for yard 24, courtesy of OC Clothing Co. Image: noeko.

With the first full day coming to an end, I ran the last sunlight lap a little bit quicker so I would have time for another shower. Even though the day had been quite warm, as soon as that sun started to dip to the horizon, it suddenly started to get a little chilly, and I found myself much less enthusiastic about the chance for a cold shower. I had it anyway and felt much better, got dressed into some clean clothes, and was ready to tackle the second night.

For the most part, I had still been following my plan pretty closely. Gaby, my nutritionist from Intenseatfit, had been down to see me earlier in the afternoon to track how I was going. After discussing the rough patch that I had been through the previous night/morning, she fine-tuned the nutrition part of my plan to ensure I had the optimal amount of energy to see me through to sunrise. The second night went a lot smoother, and I had no real slumps, in fact by the time I reached the second sunrise I felt the best that I had ever felt by that point in any previous backyard. My sleep routine had been going well, my nutrition was on point and the overnight temperature was ideal. I had none of the usual little niggles that are usually expected by that time. It definitely did not feel like I had been running for almost 40 hours.

By the next morning, it was exciting to see which other runners survived through the night. The last standing female was Jen Millum, who completed an impressive 30 yards, tapping out after the 9pm lap. Seven runners made it to the 150-mile club (36 hours / 4am), but by sunrise that number had dropped to five. Surprisingly, a lot of the runners I expected to still be in the race, particularly those who were part of the Australian Team for the Satellite Champs (or at least qualified), had dropped out overnight. Three of the remaining five runners were all in PB territory; one of them actually having never entered a backyard before. The unpredictability of who will make it to the final few is what makes these events so captivating. There are always unlikely candidates who surpass expectations, just as much as there’s strong contenders who fall short. Fun fact, out of all seven WA backyard events that have taken place (including this one), there has never been the same assist twice.

After another quick shower, I was ready for the next day and was really looking forward to some laps in the sunshine. Although I had struggled with the heat of sun the day before, it felt somewhat freeing to run without a headlamp and not having to worry about doing the quick laps. At least for the moment, it hadn’t warmed up too much yet. As I looked around at the remaining runners, they were in seemingly good spirits and the race seemed like it could still go on for a while yet. I was in good spirits myself and excited at the prospect of running through the third night. With the return to a more reasonable time of day, a larger crowd of spectators began to gather once more, and the atmosphere grew livelier. During that day, I had the opportunity to chat with one of the runners who had travelled from interstate, and he was utterly amazed by the overwhelming passion and enthusiasm of the local community. It was nothing like he had seen on the east coast. His voice was literally hoarse from saying thank-you so often to all the cheering spectators who lined the route. It truly is one of the most vibrant events on the running calendar each year.

My initial excitement for the day laps quickly faded, and it wasn’t long before it really started to heat up. I never check the actual temperature (better off not knowing, I reckon), but I was sure it got much hotter than the day before. We lost our next runner after 41 yards, an impressive total from Adrian Castle for his backyard debut. The remaining four of us persevered through the heat, just taking it lap by lap. The sun was relentless. I reverted to my “run the sun, walk the shade” strategy, but even in the shade it was still ridiculously hot. In between laps, I used ice packs, cooling towels, water sprays and Zooper Doopers to try and cool myself down. Towards the later part of the day, I did start to hit a low point in my mood – I just couldn’t be bothered dealing with the heat. I knew it would be short-lived so I tried not to get too hung up about it. Despite my drop in mood, my body was holding up well.

The final five at the second sunrise. (L-R) Michael Bellmon, Adrian Castle, Phil Gore, Tim Kacprzak (obscured) and Dan Camac. Image: Gemma Gore.

From our record number of starters, and record number to reach 24 hours, by 48 hours, the number had dwindled to four. But this was still no small feat! At every other backyard in Australia (with the exception of the Satellite Champs), if the event has even made it to 48 hours, there has never been more than two people remaining. To have four people still standing was a remarkable accomplishment. Between the four of us, we had three states of Australia represented. There was myself and Michael Bellmon from WA, Dan Camac from SA, and Tim Kacprzak from Victoria. I thought that if we could just survive the last few laps in the heat of the day, the four of us could push through the night and look towards 60 yards as the next big milestone.

Within three laps, as the sun was setting, our group of four was down to two. Tim has been visibly struggling since the 48-hour mark, and I had thought he was going to drop out at that point. However, he managed to equal his PB at 50 yards, and then went on to surprise everyone by summoning up the strength for one more lap, setting a new PB of 51 yards. Meanwhile, I was shocked to learn that Dan has stopped at the same time. He had been looking strong, at least on the surface, and I had expected him to go on for a while yet.

With the sudden drop to the final two, it felt like we were getting to the pointy end of the race. Although I was still feeling strong and capable of running on for a while yet, I wasn’t sure exactly how Michael was faring. I decided to slow down for the start of the next lap to chat with him. He informed me he didn’t have any specific goals and that he was just planning to keep going until he couldn’t continue any further. He had already smashed his PB of 32 yards and was getting closer to making it onto the ‘At Large’ list for Big’s (he would need a minimum of 54 yards). I encouraged him to keep pushing himself as long as possible and allowed for him to stick to his rhythm while I maintained mine. With no clear indication of when the race would come to an end, I continued to adhere to my plan as if it wasn’t going to finish any time soon.     

Now into the third night, although feeling fairly good all things considered, my quick pace for the sleep laps had become harder to maintain. Instead of the usual 37-38 minutes, it was now around 41-42 minutes. I didn’t want to burn myself out trying to run quicker times, it was more important to me to run comfortably, even though that meant less sleep. 10 minutes sleep instead of 15 wasn’t overly concerning, besides, by that stage of the race, 10 minutes asleep was feeling like half an hour anyway. Other than the drop in pace, I was tracking very well with my plan. I was feeling confident both mentally and physically. Much better than I have at the 50-hour point of previous backyards.

With Michael and I running at different paces, we didn’t see each other at all during the lap. The only time we would see each other was for the brief two minutes in the starting corral before the beginning of each hour. It was hard to gauge how he was going, but around the 55-hour mark, I got the feeling that he was starting to fade. It was only subtle though, and I tried not to let myself think that the race would be over soon. I remained focused on my own performance and continued following my plan. Having said that however, there were moments on the course where I found myself glancing back, scanning the distance for any headlamps to estimate how far behind Michael was and whether he would complete the lap in time.

As I completed yard 56, I wondered if it would possibly be the last one, but I didn’t let myself fall into the trap of treating it as such. I adhered to my routine, ate the necessary nutrition, and then laid down for my usual sleep. When Gemma woke me up, she informed me Michael had finished that lap, and we both lined up for yard 57. We were almost at midnight of the third night, about to enter Monday. The yard started like any other, but at some stage within that first kilometre, unbeknownst to me at the time, Michael turned back. I just kept doing my own thing, and it wasn’t until I got to the trail section in the last 1.5 km that I noticed the sweeper bike behind me (at least I assumed it was the sweeper bike and not some other random cyclist in the middle of the night). I surmised that meant Michael was no longer in the race, but I continued the lap as normal, waiting until for official confirmation before allowing myself to feel relief. I got that confirmation as I crossed the finish line, as everyone had gathered around to congratulate me for once again emerging as the Last One Standing. 

Michael and I at the pointy end of the race. Image: noeko.

Over the course of 57 hours, from 4:00 pm on Friday to 1:00 am on Monday, I covered an official distance of 382.47km. While not my best performance in terms of number of yards, I do feel it was by best in terms of execution. I felt surprisingly good at the end, and I had little doubt that if the race had continued that I would have been able to make it to 76 yards and beyond without too many issues. It was a very good confidence builder for the World Championships.

For Phil’s full list of acknowledgements, head to his site here.