EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT THE BIRD IS THE WORD

Contributed by Phil Gore, AURA member & LOS/1st Place at Birdy’s Backyard 2021

Birdy’s Backyard Ultra, 13-15 August 2021, Lake Towerinning WA

If you are unfamiliar with the backyard ultra concept, it’s a test of mental endurance. One 6.71km lap, every hour, on the hour. If you don’t start a lap, or don’t finish it within the hour, you’re get a DNF. The race only stops when there’s one person left standing. This person must complete one more lap on their own to be declared the winner – and only finisher. While the physical challenge is unsurmountable for most, the mental challenge is even tougher. 

After experiencing the wettest July in decades, the Birdy’s Backyard course would look very different this year to the previous August. So much so, that part of it had to be rerouted. The much loved ‘haunted forest’ section had to be cut due to flooding. Part of the ‘caravan graveyard’ and the peninsula just before the bridge was cut, and the bridge itself had to be extended. To make up the extra distance, a swamp section was added. It was still quite wet and muddy through there, but it wasn’t underwater. This also added an extra hill, which although wasn’t that big, would wear you down that little bit more each lap. There were also parts of the course that hadn’t been changed but were still affected by the heavy rains. One of the paddocks was waterlogged – not exactly flooded, but just enough water to get your shoes and socks wet if you picked the wrong path. One of the water crossings that was easily stepped over last year, now required at least at least two steps, which meant either feet were going to get wet, or a little bit of ingenuity would need to be involved (it turned out the latter would be the case, with a bridge gradually being built with sticks and rubble over the first half a dozen laps).

On top of all this, the weather forecast for the weekend was not looking good. Cold, wet and windy was about the gist of it. It sounded like this year was going to be a tough course in tough conditions. But as Lazarus Lake (founder of the backyard ultra) puts it “The easier the loop, the harder the race”. This was not going to be an easy loop and it was therefore hard to consider that this race would go on for as long as the previous two WA backyard events (40 hours at Birdy’s Backyard 2020, and 48 hours at Herdy’s Frontyard 2021). 

I arrived Thursday around midday to give myself plenty of time to set up. I had a caravan which I set up next to my mate and training partner, Chris Martin. We would be running together and sharing an aid station. Once we were settled in, we walked a lap of the lake to see just how different the course would be this year. We took the most direct route around the perimeter, which of course meant that we missed the entire swamp section, so we thought the worst of our problems would be the waterlogged paddock. That night I went to bed early, to have my last decent sleep for the next however many days.

 had no alarm set but woke up around 6:30am, which was perfect. I’d had a solid’s night sleep and I could take my time getting ready in the morning. The race wouldn’t start until 10:00am. It was a chilly morning, but the day looked like it was shaping up to be perfect weather. Nice blue skies with no sign of wind or rain. However, the temperature overnight had reminded me just how cold it could get here, and so I wasn’t looking forward to the night laps. 

About half an hour prior to the race start, we all assembled near the starting corral for the race brief. Shaun and Felix described the course, explained the rules of the bridge (only 5 at a time, and no running!) and got us all amped up ready to run for an indeterminate amount of time. We all got a preview of our warning song – Surfin’ Bird, by the Trashmen. This is the song we would hear at 5 minutes to the hour, every hour, for as long as the event would go on for. This would then be followed by a 2 minute warning siren, and then a 1 minute warning siren. If you weren’t in the starting corral before the 10 second countdown started, you would be out, you would have to ring the DNF bell, and collect your wooden spoon.   

The first 24 hours were fairly uneventful. It was the boring grind I had to get through before the real work started. It was made more enjoyable by having my mate Chris Martin to run with. Every lap, from 1 to 24, we ran together. We spent the first few laps nutting out the course – working out the best routes through the wet and muddy areas and working out the best sections to take walking breaks. There was a little bit of complaining about how much tougher this course was compared to Herdy’s, and even to Birdy’s of the previous year, and this seemed to be a common thought amongst another runners we chatted with. We didn’t try to do the day laps particularly quick – we averaged about 47 min, except on the laps when we wanted to eat a proper meal we went a little quicker. 

Initially, the plan for the night laps was to run about 35 minute laps so we could get about 20 minutes sleep. However, I had underestimated how much harder the course was going to be at night. Given the uneven terrain and the fact we were relying solely on headlamps for lighting, it wasn’t practical to go that quick. We decided not to worry about the pace too much and just focus on getting to the finish comfortably. We averaged about 43 minutes, which meant I was lucky to get 10 minutes sleep time each lap. 

Each night lap was spent counting down the laps until the sun would come up. Although we got lucky with no wind or rain, the temperature was freezing (I think it got close to 0°C). Those night laps were arduous and tedious, so it was a welcome relief when the sun finally came up. Even though it was still freezing, that sunlight was a huge morale booster. It was so gratifying to know that we had survived the first night. Without needing to maximise our break time to fit in sleep, we could slow the laps down and enjoy the course a bit more. 

It was such a great feeling running that first lap after sunrise. It was also really interesting to see the course in daylight again. The tracks had become much more clearly defined, the work of hundreds of footsteps compacting the grass. The swamp was the most interesting bit. Over time, as the track had become muddier, runners tried to find ways around the worse parts, and bit by bit, new tracks were formed. 

From 140 starters, only 17 made it through the first night. And all except one of these people would hold on to reach 24 hours – or 100 miles. After this milestone, Chris started to falter. He had slowed the pace right down, and for the first time in 24 hours we started running separately. As much as I wanted to stick with him to help drag him around, I needed to stick to my race plan. He was only able to hold on for another two laps, ringing the DNF bell after completing lap 26. Kevin Matthews, my assist from Herdy’s, dropped out a couple of laps later after lap 28. I had a lot of fun running with Kev for 47 hours at Herdy’s and I was hoping for a repeat this time round.

Given the conditions of the course and how tough it had been the first night, I didn’t think the race would go much into the second night. However, as the sun went down and I looked around, there were still a few runners, all looking strong. Last year we were down to 2 runners after 31 hours, but this time at that same point there were 7. I wasn’t looking forward to a second night, but I was starting to get the feeling that this was going to go on a lot longer than I initially expected.   

I didn’t find the first half of the night too bad, but it became the breaking point for most of the other remaining runners. At 36 hours (10pm), we were down to four runners, and we welcomed Margie Hadley, and Sergio Gustinetti to the 150 mile club. (Michael Hooker entered it for a second time and myself for a third time). Sergio dropped out after completing this milestone but the remaining 3 of us continued on. By the start of lap 40 it was just Michael and myself remaining (Margie had finished lap 39, but outside of the hour). We were in the same position as last year, both of us the last two remaining, lining up for the 40th lap. However, last year, I only made it a couple of steps past the start line before collapsing, and Michael went on to finish the lap and claim the win. Whereas this year, I was in a much better position physically and mentally, and didn’t feel like stopping anytime soon. I wasn’t sure how many laps Michael thought he had left in him, but nonetheless I mentally psyched myself up for the race to go on for a while yet.   

The second half of the night was a lot tougher. With all but one of the other runners having dropped out, it got quite lonely out on course. Temperatures dropped below 0, there was a thick fog in the air, and the fatigue was really getting to me. To top it all off, I started to get a mild pain in my achilles, and whilst it didn’t slow me down, it was quite bothersome and it kept playing on my mind. Although all these factors made it physically harder on my body, the main concern was it how much it accelerated my mental deterioration. To help get me through, I had been listening to audiobooks (Can’t Hurt Me – by David Goggins, and later, Ready Player One – by Ernest Cline) to keep me motivated/entertained/distracted. 

On the upside, I was able to get to sleep easier, and deeper. Whereas on the first night my “sleep” was more of just a relaxation and I was still quite conscious of everything that was going on around me, this time each time I lay down, it felt like I got a proper sleep. A 10 minute nap would feel like half an hour. It was a bit of a catch-22 though. As good and as much needed the sleep was, it made it so much harder to get up and get going again. I’d wake up, in a groggy state, 5 minutes to the hour – as soon as that bloody song started playing. This 5 minutes, between the song playing and the start of the next lap, was, by far, the hardest 5 minutes of every night lap. Running is comparatively easy, once you get going. But getting out of your warm bed, when you’ve just had your nice sleep interrupted, to venture out into the cold – that’s the part that requires real mental strength. You just want to hit snooze on the hypothetical alarm clock and plead “just 5 more minutes”, but you can’t have 5 more minutes because then you will miss the start of the next lap and your race would be over. With each successive lap, this 5 minutes only got harder.   

I hit a real low point around lap 43 (the 4am lap). In addition to all the other factors working against me, I was now getting a pain in my stomach. I had to walk a lot and even had to stop at one point to literally throw up. I was getting really tempted to just give up at this point. To just walk the rest of the lap in, time out, and go to bed. But I kept reminding myself that there was only about 2 more hours until day time, and I might start to feel better. I had to force myself to keep going until then. I finished that lap in just under 48 minutes. Although my slowest for that night, I still had a decent buffer. I had quick nap, a small something to eat to help settle the stomach, and after a motivational talk from my crew I was back out to start lap 44. 

That lap was even harder. I could still feel a tightening in my stomach. I was mentally exhausted. The pain in my achilles wasn’t getting any better. I wasn’t having fun and I was seriously questioning why I sign up for stupid things like this. With every step I took, I thought about giving up and turning around. I even stopped a few times. I made it to the first corner, and figured I’d put in the effort to get up to the caravan graveyard and back (this was a little out and back section), and use the time to make a final decision about what to do. I figured if I got to the end of this section and wanted to pull out, I could take a direct line back to the start and wouldn’t have to cover the distance of the out and back again. And if I decided to keep going, I wouldn’t have lost that much time. 

Somewhere along that section, I made up my mind that I would at least aim to finish that lap. I reminded myself of a David Goggins quote I had heard earlier that night – “when you think you are done, you are only 40% done”. I still had a lot left in me. I was still finishing laps with time to spare. If I was to DNF, it wouldn’t because I quit. As long as there were two people still going, it meant the race was still going, and I so I couldn’t just stop. I just had to get through that lap and then the sun would be out on the next one. That lap – lap 44 – was my toughest, and my slowest of the whole event. But I was still in the race, and I had still covered the same distance as the only other person left. 

For the whole event, I hadn’t really concerned myself with how Michael was going. I was always just going to run my own race, and keep going until I couldn’t anymore. My crew knew not to tell me about his lap times or how he was looking. But after lap 44, after struggling through two of my worst laps, I finally asked my crew how he was going. I wanted to know if he was finding it as hard as I was, and if there was an end in sight. Despite still finishing laps in his usual 35 minutes, despite his strong game face, my crew informed me that he was showing signs that he was beginning to falter. I wasn’t 100% convinced, but it was enough to give me hope that I may still be in with a chance to be the last one standing. 

My next lap was a bit quicker. In fact, somehow, it was my quickest lap of the whole event (up to that point). My stomach had settled, the sun was starting to come up, I was feeling motivated again. I couldn’t believe that just a lap ago I was getting ready to quit. I was so glad that I had pushed on to make it through the night. At around halfway round the lake, there was enough light that I could turn my headlamp off – that was such a great feeling. By the end of that lap, it was almost 7am. The sun was up properly. More people were waking up and coming out to cheer us on. I was in a much better headspace and started to think long term again. I went back to running my own race and not comparing myself to how Michael was doing. My crew and I were preparing for another long day, and even thinking about going through another night. 

Lap 46 was quicker again, this time under 36 minutes. I wanted to get back with enough time to have a shower and a full change of clothes. It was such a morale booster to feel so clean and fresh. It was also just what I needed to instil in my mind that I was going to be there a while. With my renewed passion and enthusiasm, I had to restrain myself from finishing each lap too quickly. Over the next few hours, I constantly reminded myself to slow the pace back down, as I settled into my day routine. 

Michael and I both finished lap 48, which was the current Australian Backyard record that I had achieved at Herdy’s. We were now entering uncharted territory. Each lap from here on out would be a new record. It was a weird feeling for me – I felt like I simultaneously both held the record and lost the record at the same time – a bit like Schrodinger’s cat being both alive and dead at the same time. This just gave me even more reason to not give up. The last one standing would not just be the winner of this event, but also be the Australian backyard record holder. 

After another couple of laps we were getting ready for the start of lap 51. Before we started though, Shaun read us a message he had personally received from Lazarus Lake. He had been watching the race unfold online and we had grabbed his attention. He invited both Michael and myself to compete in the World Championships in Tennessee! (Unfortunately, getting there would prove too problematic, but just to be invited to compete amongst the world’s best was such an honour.) With this good news, we both took off, but about 200m in something happened that I was not expecting. Michael stopped! He turned around and waited for me to catch up, then offered his hand out to shake mine and let me know he was pulling out. I tried to talk him into ‘one more lap’. He had still been finishing his laps in good time and there was a big enough buffer that he could afford to slow down a bit. I offered to walk with him, I knew we could go as slow as 8:30/km and still get to the finish with time to spare. We set off together but after a few more steps he stopped again and told me he was done. We shook hands and hugged, he headed back to the start and I raced off towards the finish. 

When I say raced off, I mean it in the literal sense. I had a newfound energy, and a fair bit of adrenaline rushing through me. For the first time of the whole event, I was confident that I had the win. I sprinted around the course, not saving anything for another lap. I ran straight through the puddles and the mud, not caring that my shoes and socks would get soaked. I crossed the line in just over 28 minutes, my fastest for the whole event by a margin of over 7 minutes. 

I had done it. After covering 342.21km in 51 hours, I had completed one more lap than anyone else, to be crowned the Last One Standing. I had made it through two whole days and nights, barely resting for any more than 15 minutes at a time. I had beaten my own PB and Australian Record by 3 laps. 

I couldn’t have done it by myself though. My crew were incredible at keeping me going lap after lap. These events are so much more than just running. There is a lot of work that goes on behind the scenes that no one sees. I only see my crew for 15 minutes at a time but in the 45 minutes that I’m not there, they are busy preparing everything I need for my break and the next lap, as well as taking care of their own welfare (they need to eat and sleep too). They do all the thinking for me when I lose sense of what’s going on. It’s the little things that make a difference too – making sure my tent was at the right temperature, making sure my jackets and buffs were warmed up, drying my shoes and socks, etc. 

So on that note, I’d like to thank all those people who made this achievement possible.

First of all – Gemma, my wife and crew chief – thanks for your support not just on the day but in the whole lead up to the event. These events are not just won in a weekend, the work is done in the months (and years) of training beforehand. Gem has always been there supporting me, putting up with my long hours away from home to fit my runs in, not discouraging my obsession with buying new running shoes and gear, etc. And she puts up with me post-event when I’m broken, in need of massages and dencorub, and can’t do anything for myself. 

Husband and wife team Nathan and Cassie – they crewed for me for the first time at Herdy’s, and they must have enjoyed it so much as they offered to come down and help again this time. For a couple of people who have never really been exposed to the ultra scene before, they take to it like naturals. Thank you Nathan for your hypnosis which helped keep me in the right frame of mind, and helped relax me for my sleep breaks. Thank you Cassie for cooking my potatoes just right. 

I was very lucky to have a few other people jump on board and help crew. Thank you Jo Malcolm and Rebecca Fitzpatrick for looking after me during the first day before Gemma and Cassie could get there. Thank you Marnie Selten who helped out the second day after already running to a DNF on the first day. Thank you to everyone else who came down to support and cheer me on. 

To Shaun Kaesler, Felix Meister, and all of the team at Ultra Series WA – thank you for another spectacular event – this is definitely one of my favourites. Thank you for bringing the Backyard Ultra format to WA. Thank you also to all the volunteers who make these events possible.

Thank you Astrid Volzke and Graeme Pierce at Lakeside Camping for the stunning location. Although it was a little wet and muddy this year you guys did a great job of adapting and coming up with a course that worked – and made it all the more interesting.

Chris Martin – thank you for always being up for a training run, and for keeping me company for the first 24 hours. And thanks for sticking around after your run was done to support me with mine.

Tony Smith at Tony Smith Run Coaching. I first got in contact with Tony after destroying myself and DNF’ing at Birdy’s the previous year, and since then, with his training and guidance, I have learnt so much to be able to smash these backyard ultras.

Shannon and Justin Wakefield at OC Clothing Co – for your continued support and for the endless supply of T-shirts and gear that got me through. It was nice camping next to you too and having you there cheering me on throughout the race. 

Wayne McMurtie at Tribe & Trail for the T8 gear and Steigen socks (one pair of T8 Commando underwear per 24 hours and NO CHAFING!).

Kevin Matthews for just being such a good bloke and a pleasure to run for 28 hours with. 

Margie Hadley for again being such a positive person on our little chats around course. Thanks for sticking with me for as long as you could and well done on such a fantastic performance yourself (Female Australian Backyard Ultra record)

And the Assist – the most important role of the Backyard Ultra. Thank you Michael Hooker for pushing me to the level that I got to, and well done on an impressive run.

Pictured: Foggy Sunday morning at the event, Phil Gore racing. Photograph – Astrid Volzke.