Twenty-four yards. 160.8 kilometres. One 6.7 km loop every hour until there was only one thing left to decide: go out again, or stop. Coffs Backyard Ultra was joyful, gritty, strangely peaceful and brutal in the best way.
Race details
- Race: Coffs Backyard Ultra
- Format: One 6.7 km yard every hour
- Yards completed: 24
- Distance: 160.8 km
- Result: 2nd female / assist
Training & preparation
Since racing the Alpine 100 km in April, I took some time to recover — think spa days, hikes and proper rest. Then I gradually built back up to consistent 100–120 km weeks.
I did two big training sessions on the Backyard course: one during the day and one at night. The goal was to practise the 6.7 km loop format and fine-tune nutrition, pace and setup before race day.
Originally, I had a neat little spreadsheet with a detailed fuelling plan, but those practice laps helped me adapt it. Winter running changed things. I drank less than expected and quickly learnt that a hot-weather fuelling strategy doesn’t necessarily carry over. I dialled back the electrolytes and focused more on solid food.
A big thank you to Tamara for looking after my feet during the race. Somehow they actually held up better after the run than before it. And one practical lesson: elastic laces make life a whole lot easier.
A very different kind of start
Race day was something else. Unlike most ultras, it started chilled. The format — one lap every hour — meant there was no mad dash from the start line. Early on it felt more like a social picnic than a race.
I had some great chats, including lovely early laps with my coaching client Kate Marsden, who was tackling her first ultra. It was pretty special getting to share some of those kilometres with her.
The daytime heat caught me off guard. Who expects to sweat that much in winter? But things rolled along well. I was sharing a setup with my cousin Henry — comfy chairs, gazebo, the works — and we settled into a good rhythm. Every lap ended with a quick chat, check-in and reset before lining up to do it all again.
One yard at a time
That’s the strange thing about a Backyard. You can run an enormous distance without ever really thinking about the total. There’s only the loop you’re on, the few minutes you have when you get back and then the next start.
The early yards were social and controlled. There was no reason to push. The challenge was finding a pace that was comfortable enough to repeat hour after hour while still leaving enough time between loops to eat, drink, sit down and sort out anything that needed attention.
As the hours accumulated, the little routines became increasingly important. Finish the yard. Check in. Eat. Drink. Reset. Get back to the corral. Start again.
Into the night
As the sun dipped, everything shifted. The course became quiet and the energy turned more internal. I changed into my night layers and kept my movements slow and steady.
This is just peaceful. Don’t overthink it. Keep moving.
The cold became a real factor. It chilled the body and slowed digestion, so I moved towards warmer food. Soup, pasta and mashed potato helped get me through the night.
Crew, company and being alone
My crew was amazing. Cousin Henry kept me laughing, Tamara was constantly checking my feet and gear, and there was this deep feeling of being completely supported while also being fully alone in the experience.
That’s part of the magic of the Backyard format. Everyone keeps returning to the same place. Your crew is there. Other runners are there. The community is there. Then the bell goes and you head back out to deal with another yard yourself.
The mental game
Between yards 20 and 24, it became almost entirely mental.
You’re not really racing people. You’re racing the format, the clock and your own resistance. But I never thought of stopping. The thought was always the same:
One more yard. Then decide.
That simple approach kept the bigger number out of my head. I didn’t need to decide how much farther I could run. I only needed to decide whether I could do another 6.7 km.
Eventually, it came down to two women. My legs still felt okay, but I could feel the wall approaching.
Yard 24
On yard 24, I knew I was reaching my limit. The other runner went back out for yard 25.
I didn’t.
Twenty-four yards. 160.8 km. Second female. Assist. Done.
Reflections
It was joyful, gritty and full of little lessons. Every loop taught me something.
Backyard racing is beautiful in its simplicity and brutal in the best way. There’s nowhere to hide from the format. You simply keep returning to the start line until eventually you don’t.
I’m proud of the 24 yards, but I’m also proud of everyone who lined up and discovered where their own limit was. There’s something special about sharing the same loop, hour after hour, with people chasing completely different goals.
Thank you to Henry, Tamara, Kate and the whole Coffs trail community for being part of it.
Until next time.