2nd – 3rd May. Report by Pete Gough
It was sometime in 2025 that I realised my running was drifting. Sure, I had been doing some cool things like races in Transylvania and Morocco and a surprising PB in Benidorm – but I had definitely been well within my comfort zone for a couple of years. It was during a trip to France touring family related Great War sites that I decided I needed to do something to avoid getting bored of running. So I entered the Thames Path 100. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
And so it was that on a warm May morning I found myself on the start line at Richmond with my crew prepped and pacers ready. Having studied the course I knew it was basically flat the whole way and followed the river for the vast majority into Oxford so hopefully not too many places to get lost. There was a 30 hour time limit so 18 minute miles which felt plausible, and lots of aid stations which are known to be of a high quality so what could possibly go wrong?
At 09:00 on the dot after the traditional countdown 300 of us set off with the vast majority (including me) going far too quickly. My race strategy was to get minutes into the bag at the start to be able to walk it in later – this technically worked but may not have been entirely wise. For the first 20 miles to the initial crew point I enjoyed pottering along enjoying the scenery, cricket matches, wildlife and chatting with people who I would be seeing at various intervals for the next 24 hours. The highlight of this section was somehow managing to get lost on a path that solely follows the river so I got in some unexpected bonus miles. Having been fed and watered it was on towards Runnymede and the site of the signing of Magna Carta (which interestingly has a small patch of US territory within it – every day’s a school day) and into Crew Point 2 at 30 miles. Shortly afterwards I lost the crew for 6 hours as one of my pacers was performing at one of the Oxford universities and needed picking up – excellent preparation work for running later on.
The heavens opened shortly afterwards and were forecast to stay open for the next 12 hours, and even though the rain only lasted 90 minutes (which was lucky) I was forced to change out of my Benidorm ½ top which was a shame. And so it was on to the half-way mark in around 11 hours – bang on schedule – and the first key target to get through as there were a lot of drop outs at that point. So after a quick bowl of pasta it was back onto the trail. Up until this point it had been relatively comfortable but from here on in it would be slightly newer territory as it is hard to train distances over 50 miles with kids to drive round and work to go to. This section moved away from the river for large periods and across fields and even up (yes up) hills – well mild undulations. Helpfully there was a good group of similarly paced runners in this section to allow for a lot of mutual support – as well as a group of well lubricated gents raucously cheering and dancing the runners through Henley. This helped me get into the 62 mile aid station in good spirits in around 13 hours but with annoying niggles in the right achilles and knee.
This was not a problem as I had homemade spag bol, lots of coke and the joys of Oli joining to pace me despite having not been able to train for a few months. Winging it is his general approach to running which I have always admired. We headed out into the Reading nightlife as darkness settled in. The deal I made with Oli was to get me through the 60-80 mile section as I was expecting that to be the tricky bit – a long way in with a long way to go – and we run/walked through it in good spirits with a number of silent villages and churchyards and more houseboats than I was expecting. The stops in the checkpoints were getting longer as I needed time off my feet, but fortunately I was dragged out after around 10 minutes in each and we got to the 80 mile checkpoint feeling OK but with the niggle having turned into a mild annoyance in the right leg.
We left thinking the next 8 miles to the final checkpoint would be fine as it would break the back of the race but suddenly at 84 miles something mentally snapped and I found myself crying on Oli’s shoulder as I couldn’t run anymore because I could barely lift my right leg. A long chat, Oli opening ‘The Can’, and a 5am pep talk from my long-suffering crew (who had apparently been asleep) convinced me to keep walking even though it was likely to be for 6 hours – so on we went. To Oli’s immense credit he went way above and beyond what was expected and continued for 32 miles including force feeding me sandwiches and coke despite me falling asleep with the sandwich hanging out of my mouth. Luckily the coke did the trick and my energy levels returned slightly and it was onwards to the 91 mile mark. It was here that Oli finally left me and handed over pacing duties to my youngest son Matthew who agreed to take on the last 12 miles despite having no kit, trainers, food or water.
A quick change for Matthew into my spare kit and with a bag of Jelly Babies in his pocket we headed off on the final leg from Abingdon towards Oxford. It was here that a helpful boat owner pointed out that the leader had gone through around 15 hours previously to which I politely noted that I was getting much better value for money from the event. Matthew learnt the ropes pretty quickly and talked at me for 3 hours whilst opening gates and helping me up steps and over bridges. Finally, the end was coming into view – well nearly as there were a bonus 3 miles added on for reasons I definitely didn’t understand at the time but a final turn into Queens College and the finish arch was in sight in a time of 27 hours 24 minutes and 130th out of 200 finishers. Technically it was a PB, but I am not entirely sure that the Thames Path and North Downs Way are fair comparisons.
I can’t write this without thanking the four people who crewed and paced me – Oli, Anna, Sharon and Matthew – as I would not have completed it without you. It is a tough gig being the support crew, and running unexpected distances, so I definitely owe you at least one. And also huge thanks to the Fosters who called from Australia at the 88 mile point just when I needed the support – it was a massive help, and finally thanks to Tanya for her slightly confusing messages that cheered me up whilst in dark places.
As I sat at the finish line, I decided that this was my swansong for 100 milers. I’m not getting any younger and it had been really tough after 80 miles. I’m also not sure I can, or should put my body through that again.
Then again, the South Downs Way race does look tempting!!
