The Medieval Backyard Ultra Race Report: A Journey Through Laps and Lessons

The Backyard Ultra format is a uniquely grueling and captivating race concept that has gained popularity among ultra-endurance athletes worldwide. It was created by Gary "Lazarus Lake" Cantrell, the same mind behind the infamous Barkley Marathons. The format is deceptively simple: runners complete a 4.167-mile loop every hour, on the hour, until there is only one runner left standing. The distance is calculated so that completing 24 hours equals 100 miles, adding a psychological milestone to the already challenging event.

What makes the Backyard Ultra so unique is its combination of physical endurance and mental resilience. There’s no fixed finish line—only the last person to complete a loop is declared the winner, and everyone else receives a DNF (Did Not Finish). This creates a dynamic where the race isn’t just about speed or strength but strategy, pacing, and mental toughness. Runners must balance effort with recovery, knowing that each loop is a ticking clock. The camaraderie among participants is another hallmark of the format, as runners often bond over shared suffering, only to see those bonds tested as the field thins.

The Medieval Backyard Ultra by Gert Lush Events

The Medieval Backyard Ultra, organized by Gert Lush Events, is one of the UK’s standout Backyard Ultra races. Held in the picturesque Cosmeston Lakes in South Wales, this event combines the brutal simplicity of the Backyard Ultra format with a medieval theme that adds a spirited twist. The event is known for its community atmosphere, attention to detail, and an environment that encourages runners of all levels to push their limits.

The course itself is a mix of terrain, featuring grassy trails, woodland paths, and a mind numbing out and back that test both the legs and the mind. Gert Lush Events has a reputation for putting on well-organized races that cater to both seasoned ultra-runners and those attempting their first BYU, making the Medieval Backyard Ultra a standout choice for anyone looking to test their mettle in this format.

The event also embodies the spirit of the Backyard Ultra format—pushing runners to their limits while fostering a sense of community. Participants often come away with stories of shared struggles, unexpected friendships, and a deeper understanding of their own capabilities. Whether you're there to compete for the win or simply to see how far you can go, the Medieval Backyard Ultra offers an unforgettable experience that stays true to the essence of what makes the Backyard Ultra format so special.

The Build-Up: From 12 Laps to a Bigger Goal

My journey to the Backyard Ultra started with a modest yet meaningful goal: 12 laps, equivalent to 50 miles. It was a number that held significance for me, as I had previously only completed 30 miles. 50 miles seemed like the perfect next step, a milestone that would push me just a little further. But then 4 weeks out from the event I competed at The Hateful 8 Ultra event, where I completed 47 miles. This led me to feel like maybe 50 miles wasn't a big enough step up for me. My new goal was ambitious: 18 to 24 laps. It was a leap, but I was determined to give it everything I had.

To prepare, I took on challenges that tested my endurance and mental toughness, including the infamous 4x4x48 challenge—running 4 miles every 4 hours for 48 hours. This experience taught me how to endure fatigue and keep moving forward when every fiber of my being wanted to stop. It wasn’t just about physical preparation; it was about building the mental resilience I’d need to keep going, lap after lap, when the Backyard Ultra demanded everything from me.

Despite my training, I didn’t feel ready as race day approached. My head wasn’t in the right place, and doubts crept in. My parents were there to crew for me, and my friend Cat played a crucial role in preparing my nutrition strategy and prepping my food. Together, we devised a plan that felt professional and well-thought-out: 60–90 grams of carbs every lap, a bigger meal every three laps, and regular kit changes every four laps. I also planned to reapply chafing cream as needed, having learned the hard way how debilitating chafing can be in long-distance events. The goal was to complete each lap in about 45 minutes, leaving time to rest and refuel before the next one.

What I did have though was a mini group around me, made up of Jenks (the man, the myth the legend), Lisa (an ultra-runner with some BYU experience), MK (new to the format, but a beast none the less) and Gareth (another machine on the team). I spent laps in and out with these amazing people pushing me through it all, and a lot of time in camp with them as well!

Lap 1: The Start

Starting the event I wasn't sure how I felt, it definitely wasn't excited though. Crossing the finish line, I couldn’t help but grin. It’s f***ing on! I said to my mum as I crossed the line. The race had officially begun, and I was ready to take it on.

Laps 2–3: Finding My Flow

By the second lap, the initial adrenaline had settled, and I started to focus on finding a sustainable rhythm. These laps were all about pacing and getting comfortable with the course. I reminded myself to stick to the strategy: keep it steady, take in carbs, and conserve energy. The excitement of the first lap faded, but I felt strong and composed. I was settling in for the long haul.

Lap 4: A Sluggish Start

After my first big meal, I felt the weight of it—literally. My stomach was working overtime, and my pace slowed as my body adjusted. This was part of the plan, bigger meals = slower laps. Better to take it easy now and let the food do its job. I reminded myself that this was a marathon (well an ultra), not a sprint, and pushed through.

Lap 5: The Heat Kicks In

The sun was now high in the sky, and the heat began to take its toll. My energy dipped, and I could feel the sweat pouring off me. Hydration became a priority, but even with water and electrolytes, the heat was relentless. I could feel my body working harder to keep cool, and the mental battle began to creep in.

Lap 6: Running with Joe and Dan

I found some much-needed company in Joe and Dan, two fellow runners who were also grinding through the laps. Running with them provided a mental boost, as the conversation distracted me from the discomfort. We encouraged each other, shared tips, and kept each other going. It felt like a small team within the larger race, and that camaraderie, on top of my already amazing running group, made a world of difference.

Laps 7–10: The Slog Begins

These laps were tough. The novelty of the race had worn off, and the reality of the grind set in. My legs felt heavier with each step, and the miles seemed to stretch out endlessly. The mental chatter grew louder: Why are you doing this? How much longer can you keep going? I focused on breaking the race into smaller chunks—just one lap at a time. But it was a slog, and I could feel the cracks starting to form.

Lap 11: A Mental Reset

I needed a win, so I decided to push for a fast lap. It wasn’t about speed—it was about proving to myself that I still had something left in the tank. And it worked. Flying through the lap gave me a much-needed mental boost, a reminder that I was still in control. It was a small victory, but it kept me going.

Laps 12–13: Survival Mode

By this point, I was running on fumes. My nutrition plan had started to fall apart—I stopped eating, and my energy levels plummeted as a result. Each lap felt harder than the last, and I was just trying to survive. The thought of quitting crossed my mind more than once, but I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Lap 14: The Downward Spiral

This lap was a turning point—and not in a good way. My stomach finally gave in, and I started throwing up. Eating was no longer an option, and I stopped drinking too. Dehydration set in, and my energy reserves were completely depleted. I felt like I was spiraling out of control, but I kept moving forward, even as my body protested.

Lap 15: Hallucinations

The combination of exhaustion, dehydration, and heat took its toll. I started hallucinating, seeing things that weren’t there. It was disorienting and surreal, but I knew I had to keep going. My mind was playing tricks on me, but I clung to the one thing I could control: putting one foot in front of the other.

Lap 16: The Final Slog

This was the slowest lap of the race. Every step was agony, and it felt like my body was on the verge of shutting down. My legs were leaden, my head was spinning, and my feet were screaming with every stride. I barely made it back in time, I had nothing left to give.

Lap 17: The End

I walked out onto the course for Lap 17, but I knew deep down that I was done. My body was broken, my mind was shattered, and there was no fight left in me. I turned around and walked straight back to the start line, officially ending my race with a DNF. It was over.

Reflections: Lessons Learned

While I didn’t achieve my goal, this BYU was a valuable experience. I went in with the right approach—solid crew support, a well-thought-out nutrition plan, and a clear strategy—but my performance didn’t reflect it. Simply put, I wasn’t physically ready.

That said, there were plenty of positives. My parents gained valuable experience as crew members, which will be crucial for my upcoming challenge: six ultras in six days. Cat’s support with nutrition and strategy was incredible, and the camaraderie of the other runners kept me going through the darkest moments.

But I’m not satisfied. This race exposed my weaknesses and highlighted areas for improvement. I need to prepare better for heat conditions, build my endurance for longer distances, and give myself more time to adapt to the demands of ultra-running. This is the most I've consistently trained my running and the results are coming, but I have a long way to go and a lot of time needed to put into these mountain legs.