Why Everyone Should Crew an Ultra

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of crewing my partner-in-crime and soon to be husband during the Vapor 125, which is a 125 mountain bike race that climbs over 17,000 feet in Salida, Colorado. The race starts at 10 PM and this was Tom’s second go at it. I crewed him the year before, where he placed 8th overall, and was thrilled to have the chance to crew him again. Especially after the way he showed up for me at the Mega Epic, my ultra-endurance event of the summer. 

Tom wanted to finish at least 30 minutes faster than the previous year, making it a sub 15 hour goal. I knew that was super realistic. Tom is incredibly strong.

Crew is only allowed at Aid 1 and Aid 3 during this race and lucky for me, that was at 1 AM and 7 AM. When you crew though, you have one job. Be at the aid on time. You have to know if your racer is ahead, behind or at pace so you can be on time. Miss that time and risk ruining the race for your rider.

That’s not an exaggeration. When you’re crewing, you typically have your riders favorite snacks, gels and drinks that they are relying on for nutrition. You have their change of socks. You lighten their load by taking gear they no longer need. You change their bottles and you smile. You are moral support. Seeing a loved one during an ultra can be the difference between a death march and at least a little hope of finishing. It makes a huge difference, seeing a smiling and loving face who is willing to touch your disgusting feet and help change your socks or stick their hands in your pockets to throw out your nasty gel wrappers that are glued to your shorts. 

This makes crewing sound like a real joy, doesn’t it?

Here’s why I love to crew the people I love. 

During an ultra, your athlete turns into literal mush. They are physically pushing themselves to the point of cognitive malfunction and physical debilitation. Your body knows one thing: keep pedaling. You are unable to make decisions, you are in distress, but yet you just keep ticking the legs over. 

For me, seeing my athlete pedal to the aid is beyond thrilling. When I saw Tom pedaling towards the aid stations, I thought to myself, he’s doing it, he’s still going! It’s inspiring, seeing someone push through their demons and do an ultra. 

Now the hard part is you have approximately seconds to determine the mood. Are they excited and happy and proud or are they bonked, exhausted, and mentally or physically ripped to shreds. It is your job as crew to bring the attitude to help your racer. 

If they are mentally in dismay, what can you say to encourage them to keep going? You as the crew likely know the person well enough to understand how far you should push your racer.

If they are physically exhausted, maybe they do need to sit for ten minutes and smash some pizza while you rub their back and try to determine if they have the strength for another 7,000 feet of climbing.

You, as crew, need to be mentally strong to know how much you can and should push your racer through pain.

You, as crew, need to know your racer well enough to know if they can tap into something very deep down. 

You, as crew, need to put aside everything and tend to the needs of your athlete. Yes, you will be touching their 10-hour-in-feet as you change their socks. And gosh, your racer will love you for it because just that act feels like sweet release. 

You need to hand them the food they don’t know they want before they ask. 

You need to show tough love no matter how much pain you can see that they are in. Or you need to allow them to quit no matter how much it hurts both you and the dreams of your rider. 

I slept for three hours when Tom did the Vapor. I was at each aid station at least an hour early because missing my racer was simply not an option. I anxiously paced while I waited for Tom and helped other racers if I could while I was there. 

You see your racer for maybe 5 minutes at the very most during aids, which compared to the amount of time you spend driving to and from aids and waiting around, 5 minutes is nothing. I barely got to ride my bike on my day off and dedicated the entire weekend to tending to Tom’s every need. 

After all that, I would do it again tomorrow. I would happily touch those damp feet, change socks and grab garbage. I would stay awake all night if it meant just a familiar face would motivate my rider. I would touch his sweaty back and rub his dirty neck. I would happily do it every time he asked, or didn’t ask. 

In my opinion, crewing is a humble act of care if you do it right and fully. Crew someone you love during an ultra. You will see the best and worst of them and they will be completely grateful for you. And the funny thing is, you will be even more grateful to them than they are of you because they gave you the gift of allowing you to support them in such an intimate and delicate way. 

And if you think I only am willing to go that far because it’s my life partner, think again. I visited a friend who was crewing someone during the Leadville 100 and you better believe I was in there changing her deeply damp socks and shoes. I had never met this woman before in my life.