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Chasing 24

 What became my favourite type of event a few years ago, Western Yards, run by Galway Trail Running became my favourite venue last year and this year again was better with support from IMRA. I don't claim to have done many Backyard Ultras but I've been obsessed with the format for quite a while. And I am biased being a member of GTR.

The format, the strategy, the mind games (with yourself and others), the place where egos are no use. It's all internal and everyone levelled after every loop. 
Everyone in so much control of how they run their race, how fast they run their loops, what nutrition they use, how they use their rest, and yet still how many leave wondering how much further they could have gone. Obviously we all claim we are happy to reach certain milestones, but sometimes these milestones are obstacles built to convince us to stop. To save ourselves. Sometimes hours of internal mental discussion, sometimes an instant switch off and its over. Then the rationalising happens. We invent injuries, tiredness, reasons to justify why we stop but if a bear jumped out of the Kilcornan woods at 1am how many of us would suddenly find the energy to keep going? 
The most interesting thing about Western Yards in Kilcornan for me is that there are no external excuses you can make. The course is as close to perfect as you can get. It's almost flat, it's varied, gravel paths, grass meadows, sheltered woodlands and almost no dreaded tarmac. The setup is the best there is, a sheltered walled garden, plenty of flat grass space for tents and gazebos, easy access to the starting corral, lots of toilets, extra water, coffee shop and lots more. Also as much as the weather can be controlled in Ireland, the event is in June. Cant really control that much more.
So really the only excuse there is, is you and your mind. Or as continues to be the case, me and my mind. Having completed 20 loops last year, somewhere within you feel you have the right to get there again. You don't.  Progress in BYU doesn't work like that. There are too many things you need to go right. Too many thoughts you need to keep out. My day started slow, looking for the flow, wanting to be hungry, too scared to not eat, too scared to eat too much. The first few hours spent meeting new people, talking tactics, goals, expectations, all pointless conversations in the early hours before we've even hit half marathon. Catching up with others from where we left off last year, our lives intertwined for one weekend a year where most outside of Kilcornan don't understand, can't understand or don't want too. One woman walker asked us 'Is this a charity event?' My accomplice for that hour: 'No just for crazy folk!' 'Whats the distance?' she asked. 'We don't know!' we shouted back leaving her more confused. We knew if we hung around the question would eventually end up being 'Why?' And that answer depends on who you are as to why you are there.After the marathon distance came and went, I felt the flow we all enjoy and the knowledge that most loops now have a number attached; 50k, 40 miles, 50 miles, 12 hours, double marathon, 100k and onwards. Lots of numbers to fill a tiring brain. The evening went well all the way up to head torches and hiviz and onwards to 50 miles. But with my tent companions growing more silent, I knew what was coming. Suddenly I was all alone in the dark tent listening for the whistles. The tent craic can keep you going. Sharing energies, laughs and motivations but then it was gone. And in moved the doubt, the excuses, the rationalising, You've been sick! You were up at 4.30am! You haven't trained! Why are you here! It doesn't matter! Nothing matters! Give up. Give up. Give up. It can all be over every hour on your terms. This is the big difference to other ultras. 
No matter how shit you feel on a cold mountain in the middle of nowhere, you still need to get yourself home. Even at aid stations there's not always a way out so you continue. You Endure. There is no other option and it passes. BYU gives you the get out of jail free card every lap. Give up. Give up. Give up. Noone cares. Noone will know. By 1am I was done but a fear and dislike of uneven numbers kept me going. 15 loops, 100k? Sounds good. Last year I stopped at 20. Not 19 or 21 and unsure if I could get to 24. I told myself at 7.20am on Sunday morning having been quite mentally strong for 19 hours, that 20 was a nice round number. Something I've lived with for a year. I should have said 4 fucking loops to 100 miles! Just over 16miles. We've all run 16 miles. It is tiny in the grand scheme of 100 miles.This year I was stuck on 15. I knew that if I got in at 2am I could get through the last lap. I stopped talking to other runners and instead talked internally. It was not as much fun, it continued my demise to failure. For 40 minutes I stared at the white socks with the red strip of the guy in front of me, barely looking up. Transfixed only on the socks in the beam of the head torch. When I got in around 50 minutes I knew I was done so I spent 10 minutes planning my self sabotage. Forced myself to time out on the 100k loop. It wasn't hard to convince myself. I sat on a rock in the end of the woods with still 20 minutes to finish the lap, waiting. Forcing myself to fail but somehow convincing myself it was the right thing to do. I am sick, I am tired, I am sore, I haven't trained, I'm doing myself harm. Probably the exact same situation as everyone else still in the race.
I finally walked the out and back, listened for the whistles and watched as the runners left the walled garden on loop 16. Disaster, I hadn't made it. 100k will have to do. The mind is a complicated place. They say you generate 1 positive thought for every 7 negative. Tired and wet in the middle of the night in a stupid lovely grass meadow in Kilcornan this is definitely so much worse. I snuck back into camp, approached the headmasters GTR tent to admit my failings, collect my tankard and force a smile for the camera. Next year. Next year. Volunteers came and went but always seemed to be there. They must be tired too, I thought. It's still the middle of the night but they can't stop. They must Endure. Amazing people staying up all night to ensure we can run around in the dark. What a wonderful world.I slept the best 3 hours in a year hearing whistles but knowing that this time they were not for me. 
3 days later I am still thinking about the warm pizza, but also the need for crew in the dark hours. When the field grows smaller the silence descends and we go inwards for answers. All that was in there for me was a reason to stop.
Huge thanks to all in GTR and IMRA for the Western Yards, another year, another fantastic event. When events are run well you don't notice what might be going wrong. 
Ill be back next year still 'Chasing 24'

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