Bubba’s Backyard Ultra ‘23 Recap
Following my time on the Colorado Trail this summer, I felt burned out and thought, “There’s no way I’m running Bubba’s”. Then “no way” turned to “maybe” then “maybe” turned into “I think I’ll do it” then that morphed into “I’m excited to do this!”. I actually was still in the mindset of not running until hopping onto Will Peterson’s From the Backcountry podcast with Tara Dower on September 8th, where we shared our CT story. He saw that I was on the list of entrants and shared that he’d be there running too. Knowing Will and a bunch of other tough-as-nails New Englanders (Beast Coasters!) would be there, it just seemed like too fun of an opportunity to pass up. Major FOMO surely would have ensued otherwise.
I also felt excited because Chris, who I hiked the Presidential Traverse with right before the school year, offered to jump in and crew me. The idea of going into this as a team effort made it feel more like a fun project and took the pressure off. It would be our first time doing something like this together, my first time doing a last person standing event in a one hour format, and Chris’s first time crewing.
After this summer I’ve been questioning what I want out of these trail adventures I feel so drawn to. After Colorado I felt pretty down on myself, like maybe churning out tons of miles isn’t what I want anymore. But I don’t know if that was what I truly felt, or if it was my own disappointment speaking. Sort of like after my first 100 mile attempt, my sore reaction was, “100 milers are dumb anyway!” There is a fine line somewhere between the major highs and the major lows of endurance pursuits, a swing from feeling like “I was made for this!” to “This just isn’t for me!” that seems to turn on a dime.
I made some goals going into Bubba’s, and was careful to list out some goals that were immeasurable/subjective but within my control, and then some concrete, specific goals that were a bit more conditional and not necessarily within my control.
Also, in case you’re wondering what the heck Bubba’s Backyard Ultra is, it is a Last Person Standing event. Everyone lines up to run a 3.5 mile loop on the hour, every hour. If you fail to complete a loop, or fail to make it to the start line in time for the next loop, you’re out. The race goes on until there’s one person left. Technically they are the only finisher–everyone else is a DNF!
My more abstract goals:
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Have a shared team/learning experience with Chris. This was my first one hour format Last Person Standing race (Across the Years was 1 mile per 15 minutes) and his first time crewing, so there were sure to be some good takeaways
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Have fun and bring a good attitude
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Don’t take myself too seriously
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Don’t count myself out
The more measurable/specific goals:
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Complete at least 24 laps
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Complete at least 100 miles
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Last woman standing
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Last person standing
There were 98 participants in the field, the largest amount of people to start in Bubba’s five year history. The course was mostly forested single track trail, plus some short sections through grassy fields. The start/finish line was on the upper part of the course, and the midpoint was on the lower part of the course. So when you’re starting the loop you’re going downhill, when you’re finishing the loop you’re going uphill. There’s a coin toss ahead of each loop to determine whether we go clockwise or counter-clockwise. There were some laps I would end up in a line of runners ahead of and behind me. I enjoyed getting to chat with and meet other runners, though that meant being beholden pace of the people in front of and behind me which could at times be helpful, sometimes stressful. The predicted rain had been holding off, so we actually had pretty good trail conditions to start with. Mostly dry with just a few muddy spots. In the beginning laps I walked maybe 90% of the time, running 10%, and consistently finished each lap in 51-53 minutes.
Photos by Brett Protascewitz
Chris had something kind or goofy to say after I finished each lap, which put a smile on my face. He always had some kind of food to offer, whether it was soup or a Mountain Meal, Tailwind, or something from the official aid station (the burgers were my fave). We had set up an elaborate personal aid station for ourselves, a walled 12’ x 12’ tent complete with a table, several chairs, and a twin mattress on a frame Chris built by hand a day prior.
We were breaking everything down when this pic was taken, but earlier we had some traction boards as flooring and I had multiple jackets hung everywhere.
One half of the bed frame Chris made!
Knowing the predicted forecast of rain, I brought a bin filled with bath towels, a bin filled with every pair of crew length socks I owned, and every rain jacket I owned plus backup jackets borrowed from my friend Kat (thanks Kat!). In my first ultra race ever, the Hellgate 100K in 2019, it rained most of the time and I remembered how helpful and crucial it was to change out my clothes in an attempt to stay warm and dry.
Well, that plan paid off because the rain came in full force. It was fine at first, as the trees sheltered both runners and the trail, so my feet and first pair of socks actually remained dry for a while. Eventually, though, the rain got heavy enough that the leafy tree ceiling became saturated, as did all the gear I was wearing, as did the trail itself. Considering the amount of runners and footsteps on the trail lap after lap, it only took a few laps from the time it started raining for the trail conditions to become verrrry sloppy and hazardous. Each lap I would replace one part of my outfit. First, I switched out my socks. On the next lap I switched out my shorts (Tracksmith Lane Five Short Tights and Tracksmith Run Cannonball Shorts, both worked beautifully). The next lap I switched out my Tracksmith Run Cannonball sports bra and jacket. This was all a success, and such a morale boost. Even if it meant being temporarily dry, it was better than being plain soaked the whole time. Especially for my feet as I wanted to prevent blisters.
The amount of rain ebbed and flowed as we ran through the night. Sometimes it would pour, but only in short bursts. We had a few hours where it barely rained, though the trail continued to be horribly sloppy. I found myself getting frustrated with the conditions. I dreaded the parts of the course that required hopscotching over rocks and slick logs to avoid shoe-sucking mud pits. Every so often I’d take a wrong step, submerging my entire foot into mud, usually due to the stress of having someone running directly behind me while trying to decide where to take my next step, and not wanting to trip up everyone behind me.
I had to run any part of the trail that was “runnable”, because it ate up time to navigate slippery obstacles as to not fall. In the early stages of the race, I avoided running uphill as it seemed like an unnecessary waste of energy, plus I was making good time while mostly walking. But in the wet and sloppy stages, it was actually more efficient to run uphill, because walking required planting my feet, which meant sliding a little bit with each step. Running required less contact with the ground, therefore slipping less. Plus, the uphills weren’t mud pits and were actually runnable. So, I was still coming in around 51-53 minutes per lap, but was working harder to do so as time went on.
It was maybe 12 laps/hours in when I started to wonder how I would keep doing this over and over again. I thought of my long hours on the Appalachian Trail (many days 18-20+ hours) and wasn’t even close to that yet. I felt stressed out about the obstacles on course that required having good balance and just the right foot placement. It felt treacherous and I wasn’t enjoying that aspect of the race at all.
And yet, nothing was wrong. I had completed each lap to this point without any disasters, so who was to say there would be any disasters in the future? My body was holding up, no blisters, maybe a tad bit of chafing on my legs and butt, but nothing a little body glide couldn’t help. So on I went.
I wasn’t the only one out there starting to despair. Each hour fewer people lined up to start another lap. However, the amount of people still going was impressive, given the horrid conditions. Several people commented on how this event really draws in runners that are in it for the long haul. That was evident!
As the hours went on, my will to go on continued to fade, though I kept doing little things to take care of myself each lap with Chris’s help. Eating, drinking, applying body balm where I was starting to chafe, continuing to swap out clothes. There was one lap where I must have felt really good, because for the first time in the entire race I was ahead of most of the field for the first half of the lap, and moving around 13 minute miles opposed to my typical 15 minute miles. My effort didn’t feel any different, so it was interesting that I was suddenly moving so fast. I slowed down the second half and finished right around my typical 52 minutes despite my early burst of energy. With about two minutes to go before my next lap (17) Chris offered to go with me–we were allowed to have pacers–but I was concerned about the amount of time he had to prepare, so I suggested he come with me on the next one.
Lap 18 - Chris joined me for this one. He was surprised the group was running so much, and I was like, “You’ll see why!” We really had to run where we could, as the muddy sections really slowed us down. I was glad to have Chris’s moral support, plus I was glad he could see with his own eyes and experience what the runners were dealing with!
I started to feel a pang of hunger. I was slowing down and there really wasn’t going to be much time between my finishing this lap and having to start the next one. When we got in, Chris rushed to the tent to get something for me and he told me there was a burrito in a small box we kept close to the start line. I found the box, but couldn’t find the energy and didn’t have much time to rummage around so I settled on the first thing I found, a quarter of a PB&J sandwich, and grabbed a bottle of Tailwind (200 cals) to take with me on the next lap. I was starting to get reeeeally out of it at this point, so even simple tasks were difficult. I walked up to the start line, concerned about the time, even though Chris pointed out we had a full minute to go (which in “backyard time” is a luxurious amount). The race director came up to me and asked if I’d flipped the coin yet to determine which direction we would run the loop. I said no, so he offered me the wooden “coin”. Dazed and confused, I asked him, “Do I need to catch it?” In that moment I was very concerned about my ability to catch a flying object. Looking perplexed by my question he bluntly said “No,” which was a relief, so I flipped the coin, and it landed on my preferred direction, clockwise! Yeah!
We started lap 19 and I realized I’d left without my hiking pole, which was bad. My pole had been really helpful to that point considering all the mud. Then lo and behold, Chris came running up to me and handed me my pole! At this point I was reeeeally fading, unfortunately. I couldn’t will myself to run, as my feet were starting to hurt from the impact, and I was pretty low on energy. I did my best to do a fast walk. Most of the field got ahead of me, and then eventually the entire field, including Will who had been taking a slow and steady approach the entire race (he ended up completing 38 laps for the assist / second to last person standing!). If Chris hadn’t been there, I would have been doing a lonely solo walk. This would be my slowest lap yet. We got to the halfway point a little after 28 minutes.
Considering my low energy, what I needed the most was food. I’d been reluctant to take food with me on the course, because it was so slippery and I needed my spare hand that wasn’t holding my pole to hang onto trees and stuff. But because I was slowing down, there really wasn’t enough time to eat in the minutes between laps, especially if I had any other needs to take care of, like using the bathroom, swapping clothes, or putting on body glide. So, what it really all came down to in the end was time management… and importantly, the will to problem solve and go on.
The second half of the loop would be mostly uphill, so a positive split was likely. Time was not on my side. I started to feel like, “This is probably it for me." I very much wanted to complete the loop under the hour so that it would count toward my total laps. I picked up my walking pace as much as I could, and jogged in short spurts, which did not feel good. Chris was very encouraging, and gave a little cheer of affirmation every time I picked up my pace. Then it started to rain again. Then I started to get very cold. I was wearing a sports bra and thin jacket, which had been perfect for most of the night, but presently it wasn’t enough. I told Chris I was cold and he offered me the jacket off his back which helped immensely. We approached the grassy field which meant we were getting close to finishing the lap, and for the first time, no one was out in that section cheering, as I was the last person to come through. The end of the hour was getting close, and I hustled, grunted, and whimpered up the last bit of uphill to get to the finish.
I splashed through the mud puddle under the finish line with two minutes to spare. Chris darted over to the box to get my burrito and help me prepare for the next lap. For me, the math just didn’t add up. I had too many needs. I had to go to the bathroom. I needed warmer gear as the weather was getting worse. I needed to eat. There wasn’t enough time to eat between laps, so I needed to somehow manage eating while moving and navigating the slippery, muddy trail. In retrospect, we could have made it work, or I could have at least tried. Chris was there for whatever I needed to keep going. But in that moment I was very done, and I told Chris was ready to stop. 19 laps / 66.5 miles complete.
Just moments after stopping, I got very cold again (I was sopping wet) and immediately headed to the tent to change into dry clothes while Chris went to the aid station to grab some bacon and hot chocolate for me. As this was happening, the rain started to pour down outside even more heavily, and I felt very happy that I’d stopped. With my slower pace, soaking wet gear, and hunger, that would have been a completely miserable lap. Of course I felt disappointed to stop so much sooner than I hoped, but really I think that was just my ego taking a hit. I was not functioning well, and it seemed like the right decision. I put on multiple layers of clothes including wool tights, a fleece top, and my Hellgate 100K puffy jacket, then I got into bed under multiple blankets, and still my body felt ice cold and I couldn’t stop shivering. I remembered I had hot hand warmers, so I got those out, and Chris brought me some hot chocolate. It took several hours at least to feel warm again. I was able to sleep for some of that time.
I went over to the start line at the 24 hour mark and was shocked to see how many people including at least five women were still running. Wow! I am so impressed by these runners and everyone that braved running in those nasty conditions this year.
In all, there were so many things that went right. I was really happy with our tent set up, gear (multiple towels, socks, jackets, apparel were all key), I did a good job eating up until the last couple laps, Chris always had “real” food for me which was awesome, no stomach issues, no blisters, really nothing went catastrophically wrong.
I came up short on all of my measurable goals. I thought 24 laps would be a tough but doable challenge for me, but this course and the weather conditions ended up making things harder than I anticipated. The last woman / last person standing goals would have been a long shot amongst this hardy crowd, but hey, I didn’t want to count myself out. I ended up tying for 24th place overall, and 7th woman.
As far as my abstract goals, I think I mostly nailed them. I had so much fun teaming up with Chris, meeting and chatting it up with other runners, enjoying the beautiful fall foliage while it was light out, taking in the earthy smells of the forest, and letting the everyday stress melt away and thinking about nothing but running. Though there were certainly times I felt irritable, like when getting stuck in a conga line of runners on what turned into a muddy obstacle course, and there were times I got down on myself and felt like I was too “soft” and not good enough by the standard I set for myself.
As I said earlier, I think the breakdown came down to time management once I started slowing down the last couple laps. When I ran Across the Years, I was never further than one mile from aid because the course was only one mile. That was a pretty big advantage. At Bubba’s, you’re on your own for the better part of an hour. I think what I could have done in anticipation of this was pre-packing a vest with food and a bottle of tailwind, allowing me to eat and drink on the go, mostly hands-free. Sort of like an emergency kit if I found myself in a situation where I barely have any time between laps. We had all of these items on hand, but hadn’t assembled an “emergency pack” ahead of time, which I think would have helped. And in the later hours, my brain was so fuzzy I didn’t really have the capacity to communicate my exact wants and needs, or even know what I needed in the moment to keep going. And this kind of stuff, I think, just comes with experience! Which was one of the initial abstract goals- to gain experience and work together as a team, and we did just that. And what an advantage to have an experience like this going into future events.
I’ve found I very much enjoy this race format. It might be my favorite besides FKTs. It’s an equalizer in many ways. There’s something really cool about running side by side (or in this case in a line, haha) with runners you wouldn’t normally get to interact with in a traditional race format due to everyone’s varying paces. Everyone has to deal with the same terrain, the same weather, the same obstacles. It doesn’t matter if you’re a speed goat or going at a snail’s pace, as long as you complete another lap. I feel humbled, yet very excited to do this again!
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