528 marathon man!
Peter, a club legend sadly left us last month, no doubt moving from one St Peter’s running club to another!
This is a long read, but fellow Traccie Steve Suttle and the celebrant both gave superb tributes, with all sorts of facts you wouldn’t know about Peter. Long distance runners from across the country were present to pay tribute to him. We thought you should be able to read two of the tributes.
DO READ TO THE END – Peters mantra will amuse you!!! Both tributes are well worth a read – They summarise Peter!!!
Fellow Traccie and running buddy Steve Suttle gave a superb tribute:
“First of all, I would like to say that l am not surprised there are so many people here today. Peter was such a friendly guy. He would talk to anyone at anytime in any circumstance. Consequently a lot of people knew him! This year at the London marathon registration it was difficult to make progress as we kept being held up by people wanting to speak to him. At the Lanzarote marathon in 2024 we were walking to registration and twice groups of people stopped us, afterwards he admitted to me he did not recognize them, but they knew him!
Peter took up running in his late forties and quickly became an endurance athlete.
According to my training diary I first ran with Peter on Sunday 25th August 2002, a 28-mile effort in preparation for that year’s London to Brighton race. Brighton at that time was one of two most prestigious ultra races, alongside the Comrades marathon in South Africa. They were both around 90K or 55 miles in length with plenty of hills to boot. In the early 2000’s Thanet Roadrunners started entering a team. In 2002 we came 5th but the following year we exceeded our wildest expectations by actually winning the team race and with it the Len Hurst Belt. Peter was part of that winning team and you could have knocked us down with a feather when the result was announced at the prizegiving. Afterwards I said that this result was akin to Margate winning the F.A. cup ! I am biased, but believe this was our clubs finest hour.
That sort of distance was actually too short for Peter. He excelled in the Grand Union Canal Race, the small matter of 145 miles from Birmingham to London. This was non stop and involved running through at least one night. I believe Peter completed this epic event an incredible 16 times which almost defies belief. He proudly wore those T shirts on a regular basis!
When he didn’t run, he would marshal, a trait he continued to follow at numerous events over the years including the local parkrun at Margate where he was a regular attendee. Peter liked a debate and I can remember a club meeting back in the day when he was told “We need people like you in the club – you would make a good backbencher!”
I have been fortunate enough to enjoy numerous long runs and races with Peter and Dave Winch. For many years we met at 9.00 on Sunday mornings at Friends corner for our weekly outing. Peter has been taken from us far too early, I am not a religious man but believe every time we do a long run he will be looking down, urging us on.
FINALY, I found out after his passing that he was an organ donor, so even at the end of life he was thinking of others. What an example to us all.”
The celebrant Kate ODonovan paid her own tribute to Peter in a great eulogy.
Peter was born on 16th November 1953 at Deal Hospital, the youngest son of Basil and Rosina Johnson. His arrival completed a lively household already shared with his older brothers Alan, Brian and John. His mother had fallen in love with the great singer Mario Lanza and wanted her new son to bear the name Mario. His father had other ideas, and so a compromise was reached. Peter would be his first name, Mario his middle one. His childhood was a happy one, rooted firmly in family, adventure and the simple pleasures of growing up on the Kent coast. He and his brothers spent idyllic summers at his grandmother Flora’s home in Ripple, days exploring the sand dunes at Sandwich Bay, and treasured outings with their father to Chatham Dockyard.
When Peter left school at fifteen, he stepped straight into the world of work. He began as a farm labourer in the Deal area, driving tractors and learning skills that would stay with him forever. Later he gained his HGV licence and spent more than four decades driving lorries, much of that time with Ovendens. He was proud of his work, dependable, honest and respected.
In fact, honesty became one of his defining characteristics. His colleagues gave him the nickname ‘The Vicar’ because they knew that if Peter said something, it was true. There was no pretence about him, no hidden agenda, no desire to be anything other than exactly who he was.
And who he was, was a good man.
A man who believed in turning up. A man who believed in helping others. A man who understood that character is built through actions, not words.
Those qualities were never more evident than within his family.
Peter was the kind of father every child hopes to have. Dependable, steady, protective and endlessly supportive. He taught his children the value of responsibility from an early age. Paper rounds were not optional in the Johnson household; they were part of learning how the world worked. He believed in getting up, going to work, doing your best and taking pride in what you did.
Yet alongside that practical wisdom was a deep and unwavering love.
His children knew that whatever challenge they faced, Pup would be there. He might grumble about it first. In fact, he almost certainly would. If you asked Pup for help, you were guaranteed a sigh, a moan and perhaps a brief explanation of why your request was inconvenient. But before long, he would be quietly getting on with whatever needed doing. That was his way. The complaint was almost ceremonial. The help was inevitable.
To his children he was more than a father. He was a hero.
Family life was filled with camping trips to places like Hastings and the New Forest, adventures under canvas and long days spent together. Saturdays often involved rides in Peter’s lorry, although strict systems had to be introduced because the arguments over whose turn it was became almost as memorable as the outings themselves.
Peter had a wonderfully dry sense of humour. Though naturally private, if you managed to get him talking about politics, particularly Margaret Thatcher or whatever government happened to be in power at the time, you were guaranteed entertainment. His passionate rants became legendary among those who knew him, not because they were angry, but because they were so wonderfully animated and often unintentionally hilarious.
When he wasn’t discussing politics, there was a good chance he was talking about The Archers.
For years, the everyday dramas of Ambridge formed the soundtrack to Peter’s life. Anyone who joined him on a run soon discovered that conversations frequently revolved around the latest storyline. He would discuss characters and plot twists mile after mile, then return home and settle down to catch up on the latest episode.
His brother John, the sibling closest to him in age, shared a particularly special bond with him. The two youngest brothers remained close throughout their lives, supporting one another through good times and difficult ones. Their relationship was built on understanding, affection and an unspoken certainty that each would always be there for the other.
Of course, there is another chapter of Peter’s story that deserves special recognition.
While many people knew him as a father, grandfather, brother and lorry driver, others knew him as one of the most respected figures in British ultra-running.
What began as a passion became a way of life.
For more than twenty-five years, Peter ran almost every day. He kept meticulous records of every run and every race. He completed an astonishing 528 marathons, conquered races that most people can scarcely imagine attempting and became a familiar figure on towpaths, trails and roads across the country and beyond.
In 2002 he represented Thanet in the London to Brighton 55-mile race, helping the team to victory. He completed the gruelling Grand Union Canal Race seventeen years in succession. He tackled the Thames Ring 250-mile race over four days. He travelled to Germany, Spain, Lanzarote and Gran Canaria through running.
Following his death, the organisers of the Grand Union Canal Race described him as one of the true characters of the canal family. They spoke of his warmth, humour, kindness and the spirit he brought to every event. So great was their affection and respect for him that an annual “Most Determined Runner” trophy will now be awarded in his memory.
There could hardly be a more fitting tribute.
In 2019 Peter lined up for a race alongside his son Peter, at the finish, Peter, father, crossed the line just three minutes ahead of his son. Waiting there, he greeted him with the wonderfully understated words, “This is a running race, not a walking race. Come on!”
That gentle teasing captured him perfectly.
Competitive, funny, humble and full of affection.
On 20th May this year, Peter set out on a familiar training route along Callis Court Road. Running had been part of his daily rhythm for decades. It was something as natural to him as breathing.
When he collapsed, strangers stopped to help. People worked tirelessly to save him. And even then, Peter’s story of helping others was not over.
Because of the care he received and the actions of those who came to his aid, Peter was able to become an organ donor. His kidneys, liver and eyes will now help others to live fuller and healthier lives. Even in death, Peter continued giving. One final act of generosity.
And so, as we come to the close of today’s service, we take a moment to reflect on a life that was so richly lived, so full of character, and so deeply connected to those around him.
For all the miles Peter ran, his true legacy cannot be measured in distance. It is measured instead in the people he loved, the values he passed on, the friendships he nurtured and the example he set.
Rest gently, Peter. Your race is run, your work is done, and your legacy endures.
We are going to end on Peter’s mantra:
“There is no magic pill, no special shake, no secret diet, just get off your arse”
A true gentleman and a club legend.
