From Grief to Grit: A Year of Backyard Ultras

Victoria Owens
Aug 18, 2025
3 min read

Last year, I embarked on what seemed like an insane challenge: 12 Backyard Ultras in 12 months.

With the motivation to raise money for the Mirkwood Home For Retired Sheep, and to give Papa and myself focus after the devastating loss of my Mama, we dove headfirst into a rollercoaster of physical and emotional highs and lows. There has been many moments throughout this past 12 months that have shaped me, changed me, fortified me and rebuilt me. There have also been moments that broke me, crushed me, and drained every last ounce of energy. But every yard, every finish line, gave me the strength and belief to keep showing up—even on the days I didn’t want to.

Making History at Golspie

Golspie Backyard Ultra has an absolutely magical setting. The race starts in front of the castle by the sea before embarking on a challenging but truly rewarding course around the castle, through the trails and trees, and back along the seafront. Come the 25th yard, seven athletes stepped out. Two of us were female.

Questions were asked: had there ever been a female winner and female assist in a UK Backyard Ultra before? I didn’t know the answer—but I knew I wanted it to happen.

By yard 29, two female athletes stood on the start line.

Completing yard 30 and being assist to Kayleigh was and is an absolute honour. Cheering her across the finish line felt amazing.

I quote Bethany Hamilton: Courage, sacrifice, determination, commitment, toughness, heart, talent, guts. That’s what little girls are made of—the heck with sugar and spice!

Chasing the Impossible at God’s Own BYU

Among the many Backyard Ultras during this year, one stands out. On paper, it shouldn’t have been possible. But I thrive on the impossible.

And God’s Own was that impossible. When I crossed the finish line as the Last One Standing, and a new course record of 40 yards I was shocked to have achieved a new Backyard PB. Within the very short span of just 8 weeks, I had ran Rasselbock BYU 25 yards, The Governor BYU 27 yards, Golspie 30 yards, and now Gods Owns 40yards. Gods Own is an amazing event, with a grass roots feel and community vibe. Inspired and enthused by every single individual there, I pushed past limits, celebrated countless PBs with fellow runners, and watched battles won as strangers became friends, and those friends became the reason another yard was possible.

Special mention has to go to the assist, Scott Kelly. Before this event, Scott held a 25-yard PB and a 110-mile distance PB. Together, we celebrated breaking the course record and setting a new one—an achievement I felt deeply honoured to share. Scott is a true BYU contender, and I’m certain I’ll be seeing him on the yard again soon.

A year of “last one standing” events has given me more than I ever dreamed it could:

🌱 Resilience grows slowly – every single yard taught me to lean into the doubts, breathe through the discomfort, and find strength I didn’t know I had.

💛 Support makes the impossible possible – my crew, my coach, and every fellow backyarder carried me through the lows, reminding me I was never truly running alone.

🤝 Community changes everything – strangers cheered like family, friends became teammates, and each yard we ran felt like a shared victory.

🔥 Grit outshines speed – it was never about chasing the fastest time, but about showing up, over and over, no matter how tough it got.

✨ Courage is contagious – watching others push their own limits lit a fire in me to keep going, and reminded me that we rise higher together.

💫 In the end, these events were never just about how far I could run — they were about connection, about finding light in the darkest miles, and about proving to myself that the human spirit is stronger than I ever imagined. The finish lines mattered less than the people beside me and the lessons carried forward.

Because “last one standing” isn’t really about being the final runner on the course — it’s about the courage we all have to keep moving when life gets hard, the grace of leaning on others when our own strength runs thin, and the joy of knowing that every mile, every stumble, and every shared smile can shape us for the better.

So if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: we are all capable of more than we imagine — and the journey, not the finish line, is where the real victory lives.