12 Seconds from the Finish: Lessons from a DNF
I didn’t expect this 🙁
With all the training, planning and past ultramarathon experience behind me, I didn’t think a DNF would be part of the story. But at the Eastnor 12-Hour Back Yard Ultra, it was.
And it stings.
The day started like so many others. Sunny, warm, even beautiful — 25°C and rising. I’ve run ultras in hotter. I’d packed smart. Fuel, electrolytes, snacks, real meals. I’d prepped as any seasoned runner would.
But if you’ve ever done a Back Yard Ultra, you know it’s not just the distance. It’s the clock. The format is ruthless. One 4.167-mile loop every hour, on the hour. You finish the loop, you wait. You don’t finish it in time, you’re out.
And this time, I was out – by 12 agonising seconds.
Edit following results posting – only 3 of the 21 entrants actually finished the 12 hour event. Should I take solace from this?
When everything’s right – and still wrong
At first, everything felt fine. But loop after loop, the heat drained me more than I could’ve anticipated. Each hour left a little less time to rest, eat and hydrate. The minutes I needed to recover started slipping away, one loop at a time.
To stay on pace, I began eating and drinking on the move – which slowed me further. And the more fluids I took on, the more frequent the piss breaks. Necessary, yes. But they chipped away at my clock, and I was constantly chasing seconds.
On loop 10, I knew I was cutting it close. I pushed. I wanted it. But I crossed the line 12 seconds too late. That was it. Game over.
I still had more miles in me to finsh the Back Yard Ultra
That’s the hardest part to swallow.
Physically, I could’ve kept going. My legs had more. My mind had more. But in a Backyard Ultra, the rules are the rules. You don’t beat the loop within the hour, you’re done. You don’t get a say.
I didn’t show up cocky or careless. I showed up ready. And that’s what hurts most – I brought everything I had, and it still wasn’t enough.
Failure doesn’t always teach you something straight away
Everyone says, “You learn the most from failure.” And maybe they’re right. But right now, the lesson feels a bit unclear. Maybe it’s patience. Or maybe it’s pacing. Maybe it’s just how bloody brutal this format is – or even the conditions on the day.
But today, all I really feel is disappointed.
This was my first DNF on a first of a new format of the Back Yard Ultra. And I’ll be honest – it’s not a badge I ever wanted to earn. But I did. And even though it’s raw now, it’s part of the story. A hard chapter. But mine.
And maybe – just maybe – that’s where the strength builds next.
And right now? I’m still fucking frustrated. Fuck you, Back Yard Ultra
I’m not ready to spin this into some grand metaphor about grit or growth. Maybe that’ll come later. Maybe it won’t. What I know is I gave everything I had, and still got chewed up by 12 fucking seconds. It’s hard to swallow that.
People say, ‘But look how far you got.’ Or, ‘It’s amazing you even tried.’ And yeah – I get where that comes from. But honestly, right now that doesn’t help. Because I didn’t show up just to ‘try.’ I showed up to finish. And I didn’t. I kept saying to myself throughout, ‘You didn’t come this far to only get this far’. Didn’t fucking help though!
It’s not about ego and it’s not about pride. It’s about the effort, the commitment and the months of training that led to not getting over the line (in time!) – not because I wasn’t strong enough, but because I wasn’t quite fast enough.
That 12-second miss wasn’t just a clock error. It felt like a gut punch. Like something just got taken from me that I was this close to claiming.
And that’s the part that keeps looping in my head, just like those laps.
So yeah – today I’m frustrated. Pissed off, even. And I think that’s okay. Sometimes you’ve just got to sit with that feeling, let it suck, and not dress it up.
But it’s not the end.
Not even close.
Meh.
Wanna follow? Here on Insta if you like. Cheers
