Being someone's crew or pacer for a 100-miler is a strange honor. Your runner trained for six months. They're trusting you with the back half. The good news: 90% of crewing is logistics, not magic. This guide is the playbook.

The crew kit — what's in your car

  • A cooler with ice, plus a separate cooler with backup ice (refills every 4 hours)
  • Ginger ale, Coke (full sugar, room temperature for late race), water, electrolyte drinks
  • Real food: PB&J quarters, boiled potatoes, salted pretzels, watermelon, broth in a thermos
  • Backup gels and chews (your runner's exact brand, never substitute)
  • A folding chair for them, a folding chair for you
  • A wool blanket and a Mylar emergency blanket
  • Spare shoes (their exact pair, not new), spare socks (3 pairs), spare shorts
  • Headlamp + hand-light + spare batteries (yours and theirs)
  • Anti-chafe (Body Glide, Squirrel's Nut Butter, Vaseline)
  • Med kit: ibuprofen, Tylenol, Imodium, Tums, electrolyte tabs, Band-Aids, blister kit
  • A clipboard with their splits and pace projections
  • Cash and a credit card
  • Their phone charger
  • One thing to make them smile (a note from their kid, a stupid hat, a photo)

The aid station routine

You'll probably see your runner at 4–8 aid stations. Each visit follows the same pattern:

  1. Greet them with the chair already set up. They sit immediately. Don't ask. Sit them down.
  2. Take their vest. Refill water, refill nutrition, restock from drop bag.
  3. Hand them food while they sit. Don't ask "what do you want?" — they don't know. Hand them something. PB&J for hours 4–10. Broth for hour 12+. Watermelon if hot.
  4. Check their feet. If shoes are wet, change them. Always change socks at the second crew stop and every two stops thereafter.
  5. Re-apply chafe. Body Glide on shoulders, sternum, between toes. Vaseline if they ask.
  6. Keep them moving. 6–10 minutes max at any aid station. Set a watch alarm. When it beeps, hand them their vest and walk them out.

What to say at mile eighty

Mile 80 is when the race gets real. Your runner will be cold, tired, possibly emotional, possibly weeping, definitely not making good decisions. Your job here is mostly not to talk. Specifically:

  • Don't ask "how are you feeling?" They feel terrible. Asking makes them think about it.
  • Don't say "you've got this!" Empty cheer at hour 18 sounds insulting.
  • Don't strategize. "If you walk this section you can still hit sub-24" is math your runner can't do.

What works:

  • "Sit down. Drink this." Specific, kind, executable.
  • "Six minutes here, then we move." Time boundaries help.
  • "You look the same as you looked at mile fifty." Even if it's a small lie. Confidence is contagious.
  • "What's the next aid station?" Forces forward thinking, not regret.
  • Silence. Sometimes the best support is sitting next to them in a folding chair, eating a sandwich, while they stare at the dirt for four minutes.

If you're pacing

Pacers join at mile 50 or 60, generally. You run alongside the runner without ever pacing them, ever, ever. The only times you're allowed to influence their pace:

  • If they've stopped fueling, gently remind them every 30 minutes.
  • If they've started power-hiking on a runnable section, suggest jogging.
  • If they're getting cold, suggest layers.
  • If they're dropping mentally, change subjects. Tell them a story. Ask about their kid.

What you don't do as a pacer:

  • Carry their pack — most races disqualify for this.
  • Hand them food on-trail unless they specifically ask.
  • Get angry that they're moving slow. They're moving 100 miles. Slow is the deal.
  • Talk constantly. Read their energy and match it.

The drop conversation

At some point, your runner may say "I want to drop." Most of the time, this is fueling failure or a low mental moment, not a real injury. Don't immediately agree. Don't immediately disagree. Try this script:

"Sit. Eat this. Let's see how you feel in twenty minutes."

Eighty percent of "I want to drop" moments resolve with calories, salt, a sit, and twenty minutes. The other twenty percent are real — bad blisters, real injury, hypothermia, GI failure. You'll know when you see it.

After the finish

They cross the line. Hand them a wool blanket. Help them sit. Get them warm food and water. Don't ask them about the race for at least an hour — let them tell you when they're ready. Take their photo with the buckle (or the medal). Drive them to the hotel. Don't let them drive themselves.

One more thing: the morning after, they will be unable to walk down stairs. They will be emotional. They will say something like "thank you, I couldn't have done it without you." This is true. They couldn't have. The crew is the hidden 50% of every 100-mile finish.