Wednesday, 9 June 2010

Beetroot Juice For Backup?

It seems that Beetroot juice is the new holy water for ultra runners. Elixir, giver of life call it what you will. Is it still Red Bull for backup crews?

There has been lots of talk on the runners blogs about taper niggles, nerves and the like.
I’ve been waiting on Ali B’s words of wisdom for backup crews but she’s in the zone right now and Clark, purveyor of pain is sorting her right out.

So I’m out here on a limb, flapping like a one winged seagull going round in circles.

This year is my first full on attempt at backup for the Pirate. Now, I’ve supported him before on a couple of races.

The first one was RAW 2008, the year of the 30mph sign!!
The Race Princess and my self dawdled up and down the roads of Ayrshire having a jolly old time to ourselves. Shouting the odd word of encouragement and lobbing the occasional mars bar at the boys when required.
The next year was a bit more professional, decent food, plenty fluid and not too much bevy the night before. I even got out and ran a bit.

But the WHW Race is a whole new kettle of fish.

I’m very comfortable with my role as Keeper of the Auchtertyre checkpoint.
Happy with hollering at folk who park in the most inappropriate places.
Happy to insist a runner takes 10 minutes to refuel to keep their weight in check (even if they don’t like it at the time)
And happy to spend hours on the phone to the Race Princess updating her on the comings and goings of the runners through the CP ensuring everyone is accounted for.

I’m a bit of a control freak. I’m ok with that.
The Pirate on the other hand is almost horizontal in the laid back stakes.

I like lists and spreadsheets, not as much as JK right enough.
By now I should have compiled a shopping list; the Pirate is flying up and can’t bring much.
I’d like to have a timing schedule, a very rough one of course.
I’d have liked a wee meeting with ‘Team Waterman’ but no can do.

So, next Thursday evening when three London firemen arrive at my front door I’m likely to implode.

The PLAN? Just turn up and run.

Stressed? Me? never. Scared of cocking it up, Shitting a brick? Quite possibly.