THE YARD
a no frills, no barriers backyard ultra experience in camden.
it’s not a race. it’s a stupidly long run with friends.
WHAT HAPPENED?
On Saturday 22 August, 30-something runners turned up at a pub in Camden.
There was no entry fee. No prize. And there had been very little notice. There was, however, a backyard ultra. And a £8.99 cowbell.
The plan was simple. Run a 4.2-mile yard. Come back before the hour is up. Do it again, and again. For up to 12 hours.
Somewhere along the way, 50 miles became possible, including for people who’d never run further than a half marathon.
The first few yards were easy. People talked, laughed and ran too fast.
And gradually they discovered that the difficult part of a backyard isn’t running a yard. It’s deciding to run the next one. Especially when there are so many good reasons to stop.
Paula got lost and treated herself to a slushy. Thai saw Derrick having a Guinness and joined him. Lumi ran further than she ever had and decided to stop.
It was difficult to argue with the logic.
And then there were those who wanted to stop, but changed their minds.
Jay stopped at yard #6. Her Polaroid came off the wall. It was handed to her. She was, officially, done. Then she went out for yard #7.
London carried on around us. People stopped to look at the increasingly tired runners who kept appearing outside the pub, then disappearing again. Those who asked questions left with more questions than answers.
An army veteran took particular interest, treating Chloe-Louise to a drink or three, and himself to many more.
Eventually it became night. The runners kept going, and the cowbell kept ringing as more dropped out between yards #6 and #9.
Still Paul, Marley, Dan, Olivia and Natalia seemed determined to take no more than 35-38 minutes to complete their yards.
Finally it was 10pm. Over a dozen runners headed out one last time. To complete yard #12.
Sammy was the first one back, in 32 minutes, having overtaken Paul and Dan who’d been leading almost every yard up to that point.
And soon enough, they were all back. Frantically ringing the cowbell until it broke. And high-fiving until it hurt.
By the end, a remarkable number had reached 50 miles.
But beyond the achievement of all the runners who went further than they ever had, or thought possible that day, the highlight was what happened when people stopped.
They didn't go home after collecting their medal. There wasn't one. They stayed. They watched. They encouraged the people who were still running.
David G. was one of those who stayed until the very end, possibly regretting not having stuck it out himself. But he stayed around. And kept encouraging others.
The backyard is, after all, a strange sort of race. At some point the line between runners and spectators becomes increasingly blurred.
They ran. Rang bells. Drank Guinness. Gemma got a leg massage while others else looked on jealously. Some broke stuff. Some broke personal bests.
And at the end, Jarek headed out into the night with a look that said everything.
These are more than enough reasons to do this again.
results.
You’re all nuts. It was a pleasure.
Want to join the next one? Send us an email.
Or, better yet, tell us in person.