How to Crew an Ultramarathon (Without Losing the Plot)…
A Guide for Busy Runners Who Want to Get it Right
Crewing isn’t a job. It’s a quiet art.
When you think about ultramarathon crewing, it’s easy to picture the big moments - refilling flasks, taping blistered feet, cheering wildly at aid stations.
But the real magic? It happens in the quieter spaces.
It’s in the decision not to ask a tired runner what they want to eat - but to hand them a boiled potato and a smile. It’s in the way someone walks beside you through a bog at 3am without saying a word. It’s swapping food, kit and headtorches in a layby while pretending it’s all completely normal.
And maybe it is.
At its best, crewing is about lightening the load. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
“I think it’s a combination of all the little things you can do to lighten someone’s load. Carrying some gear to lighten the physical load, leading through tricky bits so they can save a bit of time or thinking capacity, fun and distraction to lighten the mental load, reassurance, reminders, and even just quiet company makes a difference. Ideally you'd always be doing at least one little thing - and all those little things make a big difference. It’s also nice to have a varied team - some tough love and some love love.”
Suzy Whatmough, after supporting Sally’s Double South Wales Traverse
This blog is about those little things.
The ones that don’t show up on a tracker but make the difference between finishing and falling apart.
Whether you're a first-time crew member or an ultrarunner prepping your team, here's what it really takes to crew (and be crewed) well.
These aren’t just my views - I consulted the experts. Not just Suzy, but other runners including the rest of the brilliant crew behind Sally’s Double South Wales Traverse.
1. Plan the perfect crewing strategy…
… to set yourself up for success
Great crewing begins before the start line. Sit down, ask some honest questions, and get clear on what kind of day you’re planning to share.
Goals: time target, completion, or just vibes?
Aid station logistics and crew access rules (if it’s a race)
Fuel preferences and quirks: gels or pork pies?
First of all, this will give you an idea of who you want on your crew. Different people have different skills - do you want quiet calm, a chatter, or someone to crack the whip?
The crew you want will depend on both you and the challenge you’ve chosen.
What you want from a crew for a fast 100K will be very different from what you want for Tor des Geants. Ideally you’ll have spent time on the hills with them before they crew you.
Being very direct, crewing has no place for passengers. Every crew member should have a role - even if that’s just keeping spirits high or asking, ‘Have you eaten that?’ every 30 minutes. Working out how a tired crew member can get off the hills is a job everyone could do without.
On my Bob, keeping me on time was a key consideration for my crew; while for the Tor, I was more interested in a friendly face and someone who could think for me in my sleep deprived state.
Gareth Tomlinson’s looks to his crew to ideally do strategic navigation, tactical nav (i.e. helping the runner avoid obstacles), keep morale up AND carry kit - packed so they wouldn’t need to stop to get it out. In reality, that doesn’t usually mean a crew of four but more likely one person fulfilling multiple roles.
Once you have a crew, getting a shared understanding of the day you’ve planned removes tension and guesswork in the heat of the moment.
Once you've got shared goals and pork pie preferences sorted, it’s time to talk tactics...
2. Spreadsheets don’t win races…
… but they do help avoid disaster.
A spreadsheet, and someone designated to manage logistics is the minimum. Without this, all the good vibes in the world won’t carry you through.
A strong crew plan includes:
Key meeting points, timings, and route
What food/fuel to give when, and importantly who is in control of fueling - the runner or the crew?
Pacers, spare kit, nutrition contingencies
What could go wrong and the consequences
Someone needs to be in charge. For shorter ultras, the runner may self-manage. But in longer or sleep-deprived races, delegate this to a trusted crew member.
At some point, any crewing for an ultramarathon becomes a low-budget F1 pit-stop, with the best crews making it quick, calm, and only mildly chaotic - too many questions can be overwhelming after 20 hours on the move.
In practice, a solid approach that shortens downtime and preserves momentum might look like:
Someone welcoming and checking on the runner
Another handling nutrition and refills
Someone else taking care of shoes, socks (putting talc in them, and changing them regularly in wet weather), or kit swaps
Someone else managing the checklist to make sure everything that needs to be done, gets done
Now, that spreadsheet - make sure you can adjust it for your runner’s actual progress, and to tweak projections if they’re moving faster or slower than expected.
I once crewed a Bob Graham with a 23-hour plan, and a runner who’d set off like they’d stolen something. We spent the next 20 hours playing the world’s most stressful game of catch-up.
It goes without saying that reliability (and adaptability) is an absolute key here. But here’s the real trick: crew members need to be briefed and empowered to adapt.
3. The psychology of being crewed aka lightening the load.
Ultras are tough on the body - but they’re even tougher on the mind. The longer the race, the harder the decisions get.
Do I eat now? Push on? Change socks? Cry? All valid options.
A great crew knows how to reduce - not increase - that decision fatigue. They simplify the complex. They create calm in chaos.
“As the miles pile up and fatigue sets in, a runner's mental capacity shrinks. Your role shifts from facilitator to curator of simplicity.”
Rebecca Brennan, crew member on Sally’s Double South Wales Traverse
Sometimes that looks like taking away a vest. Sometimes it’s just playing a favourite song at the right moment, or spotting that your runner’s glazed stare means it’s time to sit, not chat.
And sometimes, it’s simply being there.
As Suzy said, even quiet company makes a difference - especially when the trail gets dark and strange. Add in a 60s rock soundtrack and, if you're lucky, someone to joke about the “Vietnam war film vibes” in the woods - and suddenly a lonely stretch becomes a story you’ll laugh about later.
4. What makes a great crew member
Crewing isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being present.
It’s also about anticipating what the runner wants in a given moment. Not what you would have wanted, and sometimes not what they say they want.
Do you positively and confidently take charge or take instruction? Watch their body language. A runner who can’t make eye contact probably needs help making decisions.
“Crewing isn’t just logistics. It’s about being in tune with another human… understanding their silent cues and providing what they need, before they even know they need it.”
Rebecca Brennan
The best crew members are part coach, part therapist, part logistics guru, part stand-up comic. They read body language, interpret mumbles, and know when to step in or back off.
“Any day running with friends and in the mountains is a great day - you’re already winning. Focus on the next achievable milestone. Don’t overwhelm them with big numbers…. Plus you can never have too many potatoes. Carry extras just in case - fuel, fluid, layers for your runner and fellow crew. Sharing is caring.”
Rebecca Bissell, crew member on Sally’s Double South Wales Traverse
But being a great crew member does take some skill. Pay attention. Don’t take grumpiness personally. Be calm when things fall apart. And most of all: keep the mood light.
“Avoid open-ended questions. 'What do you feel like eating?' is a cognitive trap. Instead: 'Sweet or savoury?' 'Pizza or potatoes?' Keep it simple.”
Rebecca Brennan
Avoiding the dreaded blank stare is key and sometimes distraction works best for that.
Sarah Carnwath recommends “The A-Z game” - which is basically naming every [animal / mountain / country/ whatever] you can think of beginning with A. When you’ve exhausted that, move to B and so on.
If you’re really desperate, there’s always counting to 1,000.
5. When the plan falls apart - because it will..
Even the best-laid crew plans are just suggestions, not rules.
Maybe you miss an aid station. Maybe your runner vomits up their strategy. Maybe the van breaks down. What matters next is how the crew responds.
Suzy described it perfectly - it’s not about heroics. It’s about always doing at least one little thing to make your runner’s life easier.
Sometimes that means leading through the trickiest section. Sometimes it’s singing badly in the dark. Sometimes it’s being the one person who isn’t panicking.
Keep the faith. Stay useful.
In my experience, telling the truth as far as possible is good, but the full truth isn’t always helpful. If the runner can’t take action on the information you tell them but it’s going to worry them, then do they need to know?
On Sally’s Double South Wales Traverse, I knew the rain was coming in on the last leg and I knew she'd worry about it if I told her…. so I didn’t. But I made sure she had her waterproofs and I made sure the crew knew what to do when the rain came.
And don’t forget - your energy matters too. Crew fatigue is real. If you're tired, hungry, or cold, it’s hard to help someone else.
The cognitive load of looking after yourself and someone else in difficult conditions is massive. Make space to rotate roles and rest when possible, pack your own snacks and hydration, and most importantly, keep yourself warm, fed, and emotionally steady
Your runner needs you at your complete best - not just your physical presence.
6. The Crew/Runner Relationship
Coming back to anticipating needs, and sometimes giving the runner what they need, rather than what they want.
I know a runner in a hot race who was sure they didn’t need a cap, and, yes, they wanted chocolate milk in all their water bottles. And an hour later they were on the verge of pouring it on their head to cool down.
It’s easy to think of crewing as a one-way street. But it rarely is. When a group rallies around a runner, something shifts. You all carry a bit of the weight. You all cross something together.
And when it works, it feels like magic.
“I love crewing because in my own small way, I’m helping someone achieve their running dreams. And who could ever say no to that? Each time I come away more settled, with a renewed faith in the power of true friendship, collaboration, plus bags of laughter to get you through tough times.”
Narissa Vox, driver on Sally’s Double South Wales Traverse
You don’t need a huge crew. Or a van full of gear. Or a 12-tab spreadsheet. You just need people who care, who understand what you’re trying to do, and who are willing to help lighten the load.
Key reminders:
Brief your crew on you: what helps, what doesn’t
Keep the plan clear, but trust your team to adapt
Reduce choices, remove friction
Celebrate the tiny wins
And if in doubt: bring potatoes
Wrap up: Why Good Crewing Is a Performance Tool
Crewing isn’t just about logistics. It’s about belief. It's what turns a hard race into a shared story.
When everything hurts, good crewing reminds you why you’re still moving. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being present.
And if you’re lucky, you’ll get a song in the woods, a hot drink in the wind, and someone who knows how to lighten the load - even when you don’t have the words to ask for it.
That’s what great crewing is: quiet magic, in questionable weather, with questionable snacks - and people who somehow make it all feel possible.
If this blog has left you wanting more, I thought I’s leave you with a little bonus…
Three ways to be a next-level crew member by Rebecca Brennan
Crewing for a runner isn't just about logistics. It's about being in tune with another human, understanding their silent cues, and providing exactly what they need, often before they even know they need it.
It’s about impact, not just presence. Here are three insights to help elevate your crewing game.
1. The Art of Athlete-Centric Support
Every runner is unique. What fuels one might drain another. The critical mistake? Assuming your runner wants what you'd want. They don't. Your job is to be a chameleon of support. Do they crave silence, or a steady stream of chatter? Do they need a gentle nudge or a firm, no-nonsense directive?
The best crews are observers. They read the subtle shifts in mood, the glazed look in the eyes, the slumped shoulders, they listen. and adapt. Their runners' needs are fluid, not static. Therefore flexibility is an essential crewing skill.
2. Lighten the Cognitive Load
As the miles pile up and fatigue sets in, a runner's mental capacity shrinks. Decision-making, once effortless, becomes an insurmountable hurdle. This is particularly true during the long, dark hours. Your role shifts from facilitator to curator of simplicity.
Avoid open-ended questions that demand mental energy. "What do you feel like eating?" is a cognitive trap. Instead, offer binary choices: "Sweet or savory?" "Pizza or potatoes?" Presenting clear, limited options reduces their mental effort, preventing analysis paralysis and that common, frustrating response: "I don't know," or "nothing."
You're there to remove friction, not add it.
3. Engineer Moments of Unexpected Delight
Endurance events inevitably include long stretches of monotony, uncomfortable moments, and self-doubt. Your opportunity to lighten this is to inject small moments of magic.
Think about surprising them with a favourite song (American Pie) playing as they approach an aid station, a familiar face appearing unexpectedly eg: the Suzy surprise, or even a well-timed, genuine compliment.
These aren't grand gestures; they're subtle disruptions, a cute dog by the trail, a perfectly timed joke, or even just a particularly enthusiastic cheer. These tiny, unexpected moments can break the spell of exhaustion, lighten their spirit, and put a little extra spring in their step.
Your job is to make their journey feel a little lighter, a little more human, and a lot less like just putting one foot in front of the other.