“Don’t f#@k this up!” Jen yelled jogging into the first crew-accessible aid station. Folks standing nearby laughed while Jordan and I ran toward Jen. “Ah, mmhhh, arggh, we’ll try not to!?” Jordan stammered, handing Jen a new bottle of her water powder vitamins concoction, wet from trying to shake out the lumps. Liam began the grilling – “How are you feeling? What food can we get you? How are your feet?” Jen smiled and made her demands – energy blocks, coconut water, ditching the headlamp, thinking about new socks and shoes in another twenty miles. Jordan and I were focused, making sure to catch every word. We wanted to be on point, prepared, having everything Jen needed and then some. Three minutes later she was off. Slight drizzle, cold, 2.5 hours into a 34 hour battle.
“GET AFTER IT YOU BEAST!” Jordan hollered. Back to the car, spirits raging, itching for the next aid station.
Run 100 miles … for time … in the mountains … are you nuts!?
Me and my dear friend Jordan watched dozens of people accomplish what could be the most physical, psychological, ridiculous, inspiring, and emotional competition humans do. To this day it baffles me why people volunteer for this torture (and believe us, the individuals running this race look miserable THE WHOLE TIME). One small step away from that craziness is the willingness to support your runner throughout, to serve as crew. That’s me and Jordan. Slogging along the same route, in the same cold and wet, making sure we are in a good state of mind so we can keep Jenn movin’ and groovin’.
Jordan and I went into this hellish race with no experience and no idea of what to expect. Nevertheless, we were absolutely committed to Jen (who’s an asskickin’ sonofagun if you don’t already know) and were hungry to get it right.
On the day of the race, Jordan and I left D.C. for Massanutten on Saturday at 3 in the morning. Jen began the race at 4, and we were on track to connect with her by 630. Some coffee, trail mix, a bacon egg and deuce from McDonalds, and we were set. We found Jen’s car by the race start, packed to the brim with sleeping bags, supplies, medical equipment, food, and clothing. Most importantly, we found Jen’s labels. Every bag had its contents mapped out. Our job was to match the gear to her “script,” the list detailing what she would want at each aid station – refill this, offer that, take that and replace the batteries, new shoes, and so on.
At the first aid station we had no idea what we were doing. Juiced up Jordan decided we would follow Jen’s script to the T, but bring extra stuff in case Jen wanted something else. It was overkill for the first checkpoint but just like a good scout, we were prepared for anything.
As the race went on driving from check point to check point, it turned out to be a marathon for the crew too. You get hours of down time to be cold, tired, munch on snack food, and connect with other crews. And then it’s go time – the 3-5 minutes of comforting, pushing, laughing with, and making sure Jen is squared away for the next half marathon. While we waited at a checkpoint it was like the nervous parent waiting for the child, and when you finally see them round the corner into the aid station we were elated, nervous, and ready for the call. It was awesome every single time.
By the second and third check points Jordan and I had our groove. Jordan was Mr. Prepared. He took the script, packed the bags and checked it twice. He was spot on. I understood right away to get out of his way while prepping because he had his mojo and was flowing. Consistently he said we need to follow our runner’s script but that “We need to think about what she is not thinking about. What does she not know she needs?”
Meanwhile, I took the role of the mental man/bad cop. It was not only my purpose to keep her mentally tuned but also to tell her she was at the aid station for too long which is a major key. Jordan certainly was a key part of this department too. We bounced well off one another for a positive attitude which the runner sorely needs. Jordan and I focused on keeping the conversations lively and fun while focusing on our runner and her needs.
This approach becomes especially important in the wee hours of the morning. The runner is just over half way – 50 miles down. By itself that’s a remarkable undertaking. Add in cold, rain, and unforgiving terrain and you’ve got the challenge of a lifetime. It was also a breaking point for Jordan and I. At the 64 mile aid station it was miserable – crews were cold and exhausted. It’s after midnight, which means Jens been at it for 20 hours. In an unforgettable demonstration of a ‘positive attitude defeats all odds,’ with crew members moping around and Jen heading back into the pitch black, Liam begins belting out “I CAN’T STOP THIS FEEEEEELIN” and without hesitation, everybody begins chiming in. “Deep inside of me!!” The crews have been battling alongside one another all day, and here we are singing our heads off.
Jordan and I were a solid team. We worked well together, had too much fun, gave everything we had to Jen, and lived to tell the tale. If we had a list of advice for future crews it would be this:
1. Don’t have too many cooks in the kitchen. A two person crew is ideal.
2. Crew with someone you’re going to have a blast with. Your positivity will spread to other crews, other runners, yourselves, and YOUR RUNNER!
3. Be ready for the long haul. It’s a 30 hour race but requires attention for much longer.
4. Travel efficiently. To quote Jen, it’ll be hot and cold, wet and dry.
5. Sleep when you can. More than anything, you’re runner needs you on your game.
6. Make sure your runner has a script! Follow it closely and predict what else she’ll need.
7. Keep the time. When the runner comes in, when they leave, splits, yearly average splits. It’s good to help you stay on track and know when to be ready.
8. Be ready to sacrifice. The runner’s wheels may fall off and they’ll need some serious help. Jordan ran the last 7 miles impromptu because Jen needed it.
9. Set yourself up for success. Your runner could be tedious in how everything is organized but it may not be the way you would organize. It’s okay to reorganize everything because the car isn’t for the runner… it’s for you.
10. Enjoy the day. It is a lot of fun especially if you’re with someone who makes it fun.
It sounds simple. At least it did before we started our marathon. Unless you’ve crewed before, no amount of reading will fully prepare you. Just buckle up them boots and be ready for a wild and wonderful day.
