Crewing and Pacing, a Wild Journey at Southern States 200

In February, I volunteered to crew and pace Will at the inaugural Southern States 200 mile race from Georgia to Alabama. I had never crewed or paced anyone’s race and immediately felt a sense of responsibility and care to do the best job possible. Once I began researching the race handbook, rules, and maps, I felt slightly intimidated by the level of planning and preparation that would be needed to make sure I helped Will’s race go as flawlessly as possible.

I built a binder with important race information and logistics and searched for articles about crewing ultramarathons, fixing feet, and basic medical topics like assessing hypothermia and heat stroke. In March, Will sent me his detailed spreadsheets for nutrition, pacing, and equipment. A data scientist by training, his planning was thorough and information was presented in multiple formats. He also booked travel arrangements and sent me itineraries to fit into logistical planning.

The variables involved in a 200 mile race meant that I’d need to be flexible, arrive early, pay attention, and consider various preferences and outcomes for each time I met Will. However, the stretches between crew accessible aid stations were long enough that I had time to grab or make food, navigate to the next point on the course, socialize, and nap in the back of the rental Chevy Equinox.

We flew to Atlanta the day before the race and did our pre-race sync over dinner. I stopped by the local Walmart to collect remaining supplies such as avocados, PB&J materials, sodas, and ziplocks. The race started at 12pm and the morning felt surprisingly leisurely. I brought my camera and walked around the start area at Need To Feed taking pictures and was pleased to meet Pete Schreiner, a professional trail photographer who’s work I now admire greatly.

Following a safety briefing indoors and a medical check, the runners set off into the sunny and warm Georgia weather to meet the Pinhoti trail. Runners’ support systems varied greatly with some tackling the event entirely solo with only drop bags and others with large crews equipped with generators, microwaves, and multiple pacers. I was Will’s only crew member and pacer and since we had flown to the race, equipment was minimal.

Access to the aid stations was easy due to the smaller field and how spaced out the runners quickly became. I arrived early and prepared Will’s flasks and nutrition according to the crew plan and had additional clothing and miscellaneous items available as needed. I prioritized taking care of myself and made sure to find meals along the point to point course, take little naps in the car, and stay on top of my training weeks out from Canyons.

The first night, Will insisted that I go get some rest and he would be alright running alone. After providing french fries and encouragement and sending him off into the night at mile 35.7, I drove to Rome, Georgia and checked into a local inn. I couldn’t sleep much and checked the website monitoring the Spot trackers attached to each runner. It showed Will as being less than six miles away from the Cave Springs aid station at mile 93, where I planned to meet him around 8 or 9 AM. He had been moving well and ahead of the split schedule on the first day, and to my sleepy mind at 4:30 in the morning, it seemed feasible. I threw my clothes on and hurriedly packed up and checked out to make the hour drive to Cave Springs.

It was still dark when I arrived at the aid station. I greeted the volunteers huddling around a solo stove and a space heater and told them that I expected a runner to arrive shortly and to please prepare scrambled eggs and potatoes. I set out all of the equipment on a picnic table and began asking others about their tracker status. There was a glitch on individuals’ race status pages and the map view showed Will a couple of hours out. The tracker also froze on a runner’s location for up to a couple hours at a time before updating. An imperfect system, but after learning its quirks, I was able to gauge where I needed to be fairly well and did not miss an aid station.

Even deep in the miles, Will was in good spirits and remained patient as I navigated my first crewing experience.  After meeting him at the mile 114 aid station, I drove to the Cheaha State Park in Delta, Alabama to check in. While I was out for a run on the final section of the course, I got a text from Will asking if I could meet him at the Hill Top Blue Trail aid station at mile 135.7, which was not on our crew plan. The race directors had changed the rules to allow crews to access aid stations that were not originally crew accessible if they volunteered there.  It was around 7:00 PM and he expected to arrive in two to three hours. I stopped for gas and boiled peanuts to bring as a warm offering to volunteers and drove to the remote aid station.

A four-person volunteer team had been set up and waiting for runners since 11:00 AM and were taking napping shifts in anticipation of runners arriving throughout the night and into the next day. It was dark and getting chillier and I sat down around a healthy campfire, grateful for the warmth and passed around boiled peanuts and potato chips. The tracking website showed very little progress, which was soon confirmed by a text from Will informing me that he was having hip flexor pain and was moving very slowly in between naps on the side of the trail. I was concerned knowing that he was out of liquids and nutrition and without warm clothing. I encouraged him to keep making progress and take his time.

I went to lay down in the car and was thankful to have brought a blanket from the motel room as temperatures continued to drop. I set my alarm for 30 minute increments to check my phone for updates but never fully drifted off to sleep. Hours later, I got up and went back to the fire. Eventually, I received a text from Will telling me he didn’t think he was going to make it and asking if there were extraction options. I knew he could most likely work through it and had plenty of time to recover if he could get to the aid station without assistance. I asked a couple of volunteers if they would want me to extract them and they agreed with me that I should assess his condition when he made it back. I reached out to Will’s wife, Jen to make sure she was on the same page since I was responsible for his safety. She agreed. I texted Will and encouraged him to keep making his way to the aid station and that if it was an emergency, then I could extract him.

Throughout the rest of the night and into the morning, a handful of runners passed Will on the trail and came into the aid station. They reported that he had requested them to ask Jade to come and pick him up. I thanked them and helped tend to their race needs as everyone was in a lower spot in their journey requiring different levels of rest and care. I took photographs and waited for Will to make it there. After sunrise, I was standing at the bottom of a fire road with my camera and captured him cresting the hill. I ran up to meet him and gave him a stout pat on the shoulders to let him know he was ok.

I set him up by the fire with a veggie scramble, a protein shake, fluids, and a blanket and let him decompress for a bit. A volunteer loaned us his sleeping bag and we set Will up for a car nap in the Equinox. He rested for about an hour and half before reemerging rejuvenated and ready to continue on the trail. His hip flexor issue largely resolved itself and he was moving well again.

I stayed to help out at the aid station for a while longer before heading off to grab breakfast at a local Huddle House, a first experience for me. In town, I procured more ice and two Jimmy John’s sandwiches for lunch and headed back into the forest to the next crew point at Coleman Lake, mile 151. I had only been in the aid station trying to nap in the car for about 15 minutes before Will came running in. I threw on my shoes and grabbed the equipment and his sandwich and brought it to the covered pavilion. He was grateful for the cool veggie sandwich and was in high spirits and moving well. He was quickly back on the trail and I packed up.

There was a longer stretch of about 17 miles until I saw Will again at the Highrock aid station at mile 168.7. Will sat down to eat some Jet Boil pad thai and was soon on his way. I drove to the Fay’s Blowdown aid station at mile 180.26 as night fell and brushed my teeth, set my alarm, and tried to get a short nap before getting geared up for the final stretch pacing Will to the finish. When Will arrived, he decided to take a 20 minute nap before setting off again. After refilling supplies, we set off at 11:08 PM.

It was a comfortable and balmy night in the 60s, Will’s third night of the race. I told him that I was grateful for the night practice and joked that he had 180 miles in his legs so he hopefully wouldn’t drop me. We made it to the last aid station at mile 192, a swampy climb out and back. At some point there was a loud rustling in the bushes near the trail and we also passed several campsites with tents along the way. The last five miles climbed up to the finish at Cheaha State Park and corresponded with a delightful and slow sunrise that peaked as we reached the finish line. We hugged and asked the RD to take a picture before going into the lodge.

The wife of one of the RDs graciously prepared scrambled eggs and cheese and veggie enchiladas for Will and we celebrated with a can of beer at 6:30 AM. There were no taxis or ride share options in the area. I had networked with local volunteers during my time at the aid stations and received a referral for a woman who ran a private transportation business from a local hostel. I called her and she picked me up in a Jeep Wrangler within 20 minutes to drive me back to Fay’s Blowdown. I grabbed a cup of hot coffee from the aid station and drove back up to the Cheaha Gift Shop where I talked with the inn receptionist requesting to check in a day late and have late check out. We had arrived a day later than anticipated. Fortunately, she obliged.

I drove Will a mile down to the motel room and we got a couple of hours of sleep before heading to the Atlanta airport to catch a flight back to DC. For obvious reasons, Will was moving quite slowly through the airport, but we managed to make it to the gate with dinner to-go for the plane.

I was excited to take on this challenge as my first crewing and pacing experience and I found the experience to be rewarding. While tiring and stressful at times, I was able to share in the adventure of the race while supporting Will’s incredible journey. I felt a sense of accomplishment for my contributions to accomplishing an audacious goal as well as the growth of a new friendship that enriched my world. I highly recommend others to consider taking on the challenge of crewing, pacing, and supporting another’s big goals and championing them to perform their best. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I also gained invaluable insight into everything that goes into supporting me when I compete in an ultra event and I will carry that knowledge with me as I assemble my crew and teams in the future.