Written by Peter Dennett - http://www.100marathonclub.org.uk

10:00, 2nd and 3rd May. The Thames canal path from Richmond in Greater London to Oxford in Oxfordshire, England

About me and my Race Plan

Although I'm a veteran at marathon running with over 180 events under my belt, this would be my first 100 miler. I would also be running solo; i.e. no crew to assist me and no pacer to accompany me in the second half. As I had no crew, I basically had to carry everything I thought I would need throughout the race in addition to the mandatory stuff, with the exception of a few items for the latter part of the race that would be in a kit bag available to me at the Henley aid station at mile 51.

I had opted to run in road shoes as the weather had largely been dry the week before suggesting the trail sections of the route would probably in the main be dry also. But in my Henley kit bag I had included a pair of trail shoes just in case the predicted forecast of rain significantly changed things underfoot, as well as a spare top, a fresh pair of socks and a bottle of Lucozade; that was a ‘treat' to allow me to drink something different than what was on offer at the aid stations. Water I find boring and Coke disgusting, though I know from experience that both are necessary evils and you just have to get used to their respective tastes.

1 - My kit for the race, of which much of it was mandatory

The plan for the race was based on one that veteran 100 miler, Traviss Wilcox had recommended, which was to get to Henley before night fall and then slog it out to the finish. To achieve that I was planning to treat the first 25 miles as a marathon and run it as one albeit at a conservative pace, then get to Henley hopefully by mainly running it and then after that just see it how it goes, but with the additional goal in mind of getting to Oxford and the finish within 24 hours.

In the weeks before I had ran a few marathons with varying results. Three weeks previously I ran Taunton and struggled with tired legs to get round in 3:43. A week later I was at Boston in the States and ran a far more comfortable and convincing race in 3:31. The week before this 100 miler I was at Blackpool, not quite as easy as Boston but still an encouraging 3:38. The morning of the Thames Path 100, guess what? My legs felt tired again, so it looked like another Taunton-style outing!

Arrival at Richmond

My kind brother-in-law picked me up at 7am and drove us the hour or so to Richmond, dropping me off right in the small courtyard next to Richmond's Old Town Hall, which was where the race HQ was. Inside the hall it was a hive of activity with people getting their mandatory kit inspected, collecting race numbers and generally sorting their gear and themselves out for the race. My first port of call was kit inspection. I had all my stuff, literally stuffed in my running vest so when asked I had to unzip some pockets, initially forgetting which ones had the mandatory stuff, to reveal the said items including a hard copy map of the Thames Path, head torch, backup torch and rain jacket. Once the guy inspecting this was happy he then handed me what looked like a red casino chip and told me to go to the desk where race numbers were being issued. There, half expecting to see a roulette wheel, but there wasn't, I announce my name and race number and in exchange for my chip I get my race bib.

Back outside and my brother-in-law opts to move the car as it's causing some traffic issues. It's here I bump into Traviss Wilcox and we have a quick chat before he disappears to talk to someone else whilst I head over to the van that is collecting kit bags for transfer to Henley and the finish. As well as my bag for Henley, I also had a bag for the finish that contained some leggings, a top and a coat; stuff that I could quickly change in to after finishing, mitigating hopefully any risk of getting cold, which can easily happen once you stop moving.

With over an hour to go, I then did some last minute preparations. First I filled my drink bottles. This wasn't though to be the best idea. The bottles are of the soft flask variety but I had modified them by putting some tubing in them to keep them upright with the tubing extending outside the top of the flasks with the bit values attached on top. An idea I got from one of the Facebook ultra running communities as the soft flasks when shrinking have a habit of disappearing into the mesh pocket they sit in and are then a pain to retrieve when you need to refill them. The tube eliminates this problem by keeping the bottles upright and so they don't disappear into their pockets, plus the extended tubing allowed you to drink from the bottle without needing to bend your head over as much. The downside as I discovered is that the arrangement isn't quite watertight and when you sit down, droplets of liquid escape from the top of the bottle where the tube extends out and basically dribbles on to your person!

I also made regular trips to the toilets, but queued well up in advance before I really needed to go. Something I've learnt from previous races.

Then my brother-in-law returns to explain the ordeal he just had trying to find something to park and then when he did discovered the extortionate charges that would rival those of many a pay-day loan company!

An announcement was then made stating that there would shortly be a race brief at 9:45 done by the start line, so we made our way there. The start line was on the Thames Path, a stone throw away from the Old Town Hall on the left side of the Thames looking upstream or westward.

2 - The start line, before the masses turned up

I bumped in to Traviss again who then promptly sits down on a bench nearby whilst the race brief was given. The brief was mainly around safety and showing off the route markers along with the established National Trail ones that would help us on our way, the most notable marker being a strip of red and white tape. There was also a big thank you for the volunteers who would be manning the aid stations that we would visit en route, many of which, who like us would be up all night.

With the race brief done, around 10:00 we were off!

An Unexpected Journey... to Kingston

Now, I normally knock out a quick first mile even for marathons just to get it out of my system before easing off into a more realistic sustainable pace. Something I ‘inherited' from my early big city marathon days where the first few miles are generally chaotic. Today though with legs already not feeling their best I opted to go for a more caution approach and setup off at a more subdued pace.

However in the first mile, I did manage to catch and pass Mark Evans (Mark H not Mark E I believe). Mark and I have regularly appeared in marathons together on the Kent coast and generally end up with similar times, though lately Mark have had the better of me. Hence on passing him I joked that he would catch and pass me at mile 22.

There was a lot of changing of positions within the running field before things settled down, though a kissing gate early on in the race did create bit of a bottle neck as you could only get through one at a time.

By the time things had settled down I was now chasing a group of five runners. Not really gaining on them but not losing them either.

As we continued I recognised some of the route from when I did the Thames Meander Marathon last year including the start area and early section of that race. As I reminisced about that race whilst also keeping a watching brief of the running group in front I then noticed there was no-one in front of those guys. A glance back revealed no-one behind either.

This seemed a bit strange and only when I looked across the Thames did I see loads of runners on the other side of the river. As I looked, the group ahead of me also looked across and realised like me that we had somehow missed the bridge that we had to cross. I thought about turning back but instead continued to follow the guys in front hoping there would be another bridge soon.

There wasn't. The group ahead would occasionally make turns that only led them to dead ends in their quest to get back on the right route but without success. However, it allowed me to catch them up on every occasion and saved me from taking those same wrong turns.

But the group did up their pace. No doubt to try and make up for lost time. I tried to keep up but at the same time was wary of going too quick and catching them only to then join them in the hunt for the right way.

We eventually passed through Kingston, initially over a railway line, then passing Kingston train station before finding a bridge that was being crossed by other runners, who were now on the same side of the Thames as us. I asked one of the runners if they had been to an aid station yet. They replied no. Phew, panic over, we were back on the right route and hadn't missed the first aid station and check point, but I was a bit concerned that my planned leisurely start had of course gone totally to pieces.

Eating and Drinking but no Time for Merriment

The terrain underfoot turned from tarmac and paving to dirt track. But at least the mud was dry and certainly my choice of road shoes seemed thus far a wise one.

Although I had my own drinks, it was a long 11 miles to the first aid station. I was keen to get to the aid station not only for refreshment but to do a distance check and determine how much extra I had covered on the unplanned tour of Kingston.

Before getting there I passed a pub called ‘The Weir'. I remember seeing that marked on the maps that I studied the night before so knew it wasn't far to go. When I did arrive at the aid station my Garmin reckoned I had done an extra mile.

The aid station was marked by white Centurion logo flags and a white gazebo. As soon as I entered, someone noted my race number and someone else behind a table of food asked what I what to eat and drink. Their urgency to assist me thankfully matched my own to get going and seemed to suggest that they could read my mind, which was saying we've lost time so let's not hang about, grab what you can and go.

I took on board some coke and water, and then prepared myself to eat some food whilst another volunteer kindly refills my drink flasks. Eating food on a run has been problematic for me. Either I develop stomach problems, or my mouth just dries up with the throat closing up soon after making swallowing impossible. Though I had been experimenting lately to try and overcome these problems I've had yet to resolve them satisfactory, so it was a case of here goes. I knew I had to eat something otherwise I wasn't going to finish.

At the Comrades marathon last year in South Africa, which was my qualifying race for this one, I tried to do the whole race on just fluids; water, coke and electrolyte, and although I finished the race, it was not without some discomfort; there's only so much you can drink before your stomach then starts crying out for something more solid to digest. So I was determined not to repeat that experience here.

First I tried a cheese sandwich. Mouth instantly dries up and throat closes up; unable to swallow. Panic initially sets in before I then had a light bulb moment. With the food still in my mouth I pour some water inside. I can't say the food tasted better or the experience was particularly pleasant but it worked; the throat opened up and as I continued chewing, I eventually managed to swallow. Ok, time to quickly try something else; sausage rolls. Actually, these seemed to fare better than the sandwiches, not needing as much water. I'll take some of these with me!

I had a small cup where I chucked in some of the said rolls; well actually the cup was an egg poacher made from flexible yellow silicone. I brought it along as I could screw it up in to a small ball and stuff in one of the pockets on my running vest where it would take up very little room.

It was Traviss who told me not to take too long at aid stations; basically get in and out and if need be, take your food with you and eat it on the way. This I did; however I couldn't really run with the food so walked until I had finished my meal. Then I was back to running.

Magna Carta Memorial, Royal Castle and Rowing Lakes

I was a little bit less apprehension about eating at the next aid station. Taking on sandwiches and rolls and religiously washing them down with plenty of water to aid swallowing, before moving on.

Soon after, I pass a tiled memorial dedicated to the 600 th anniversary of the signing of the Magna Carta. I was tempted to pause to take a photo, but felt it was more important to keep pressing on.

I then arrived at Old Windsor. I knew I had as there was a roads sign saying I had! It was some time though before I got to the more familiar part of Windsor and saw the spectacular Windsor castle. I then crossed the bridge that connects Windsor to neighbouring Eton. A bridge familiar to me as I've ran across it a number of times some years back as its part of the run route for the Windsor triathlon.

My familiarity of the area continued when after visiting the third aid station, I passed Dorney Lakes. For me it was strange to see it from the Thames as I'm more familiar from seeing from the lakes. Not rowing as the place is most famous for, but another place where I've done a few triathlons.

I then had to cross a bridge to enter Maidenhead. I knew I had entered Maidenhead as there was a road sign saying so.

To get to the next aid station at Cookham I had to leave the Thames path and follow some roads. Thankfully there were a few runners about who seemed to know where they were going. Perhaps I should have been more cautious after my experience shortly after the start, but on this occasion following the group ahead kept me on the race course and thus to the next aid station.

Halfway at Henley

After leaving Cookham I sent a text to my mother informing her where I was. She was planning to meet me at Henley, so I wanted to give her a heads up of my progress and estimated arrival time. As stated earlier, I didn't have any crew but my mother agreed to be the last familiar face I would see before nightfall, something I felt was necessary to help my morale. My mother also doesn't have Internet access but does have a standard mobile (not of the smart phone variety) so hence the text.

The next aid station though was at Hurley and we had to cross a bridge to get to this. We remained on this side of the Thames until Henley, where we crossed a bridge to go back on to the other side. However, I remember from studying the maps that it was a while to go before I would actually reach the Henley aid station.

I arrived at Henley just as it was turning to dusk, a little later than planned but crucially before nightfall. Among the runners and spectators I managed to find my mother. A helper then hands me my kit bag. I opted not to change my shoes but did drink the bottle of Lucozade. After drinking so much water, coke and pink electrolyte drink at the aid stations, as predicted this was a welcoming change on the drink front. I then went to hunt down some food and was kindly offered some pasta, which went down rather well. It didn't sink in at first but the volunteers were dressed as superheroes.

3 - Arriving at Henley just before it got dark

I also bumped into Mark Evans, who had been here a while and was now about to move on. I quickly informed him of my detour around Kingston before he then left. I then spent a few minutes giving my mother a similar update of my race thus far and after she wished me luck we parted company.

The Oracle

I had placed my head torch on my head before leaving Henley, which was just as well as shortly after it was getting really dark and struggling to see ahead I had to switch it on. I had done some night running including the odd race in preparation for this moment, but it still felt a bit weird to now be running in the dark after running most of the day in daylight.

It then started to spit with rain. It was hard to tell if this was a just quick passing of rain or something more prolonged. I initially kept going thinking it would pass, but also kept thinking of another of Traviss's gems of advice; get you rain coat on before you get wet. This thought get bugging me until eventually I could bear it no longer and had to stop and put my rain jacket on. Soon after I had and was about to getting moving again another runner stops by me, saying good idea before promptly getting their jacket on.

As it transpires, the rain didn't only continue, but started to be more than a gentle drizzle. So getting my jacket on was indeed a good move.

After what seemed like being in the middle of nowhere forever it was then a bit surreal to see the bright lights of the Oracle. Not the one from Greek mythology but the headquarters of the IT Company sat in the Business Park near Reading that shares its name. Another landmark I took note when studying the maps as I then knew the next aid station was nearby. However, on arrival, no-one had warned me of the steps that had to be negotiated to get in to the building housing the aid station. Some organiser's sick joke or what?

Inside I continued my feed of sausage rolls washed down, this time with electrolyte drink; I thought it would save some time if I ate and drank at the same time. It felt warm and inviting there at that aid station, but I had to resist the charms of the place and move on. It could have so easily have been a spider's parlour with me as the fly.

Just as I'm about to leave, one of the aid station volunteers warned me of a couple of points on the course ahead. The firstly was a bridge where we had to go over, yes over, not under it. The second was a path diversion about a mile later in Reading town centre.

Over the Bridge and through Reading

After leaving the aid station to go back into the less than inviting rain, I indeed sometime later came across the bridge I was warned about. I was about to go over when I spot someone ahead who had gone under. I was now confused. But then a couple of runners came up behind me and said I was right to go over. One of them said he had done this race before as well as helped with the organisation where on previous outings of this event quite few people have taken the wrong way here and had to be retrieved later.

From that point I opted to tag on behind this guy and his compatriot who I think was actually his pacer. Ok, again, probably not the wisest thing to do after my experience at the start of the day with following other runners but this guy did seem to know what he was talking about, plus he was in the main walking, which suited me fine as my ‘running' pace for what it was now worth wasn't much faster than the guy's walking pace, so I was prepared to take the risk.

After following a rather poorly lit part of the Thames Path we then came across street lights and a red diversion sign pointed us away from the Thames into Reading town centre. This I had gathered was the diversion I had been warned about. However, I wasn't really sure where to go next so I stuck to the informed runner and his friend like proverbial glue, crossing a couple of busy roads and passing some late night revellers, before a right turn that took us back to the sanctuary of the Thames path and yes, bizarrely I felt safe again, safe in the knowledge that my navigation skills did need such testing again, at least for the time being. With not needing my guide anymore I then upped my pace and gradually left him behind.

During the race brief we were asked to keep noise to a minimum during the night. So I had a bit of a chuckle when a while later near the Thames path there was some festival on with the sounds of much jollity, which was then rudely interrupted by the booming noise of a guy on the PA system announcing last orders. A short time later I hear the PA system again but fainter as I was now some distance from it, announcing that the bar was now closed!

The Sit Down and the Crossroads

For Whitchurch and the aid station there, I knew I had to cross a bridge but didn't realised the extent of how far we had to go after crossing the bridge and how it then seemed all uphill to the aid station.

On the bridge I'm passed by Kate Jayden and another runner, who may have been her pacer as he didn't seem to share in Kate's enthusiasm in taking selfies on the bridge. I must admit I was a little annoyed as well, but with me as despite Kate's occasional pause to take photos, she still managed to keep ahead of me reaching the aid station first.

Inside I grab some drink and food and despite Traviss's warning about sitting down or 'Beware the chair' ringing in my ears I allowed my concentration to slip and did indeed sit down. However, halfway through eating and drinking I notice Kate who hadn't sat down was about to leave. As if I had been woken from a daze, a sense of realism then came over me as I grasped what had happened. I was wasting time and needed to get up and go, and do that now! And that's exactly what I did, although by the time I had left the aid station, Kate who got out before me was already up the road and out of sight.

The route continued uphill before eventually levelling out. But then I hit a crossroad where it didn't seem obvious where I had to go next. I sense it may be straight on and indeed in the distance I could see the headlight of another runner; Kate perhaps? But then a couple of other runners came up beside me and point out the road to the left which has a strip red and white tape next to it. But the same road had a sign which read ‘Private Property'.

I wasn't convinced and after a short debate I left the other runners to continue discussing where they would go and opted to follow the road ahead. By this time more runners had arrived and joined the debate but I was already committed to my decision. Then one of the runners rushes up and joins me, asking if I was sure. I said I wasn't. We continued but walked rather than running as we looked out for strips of red and white tape that would confirm whether we were indeed on the right route. But as we continued things were looking bleak. There were now no runners' headlights either ahead or behind us. Doubt was quickly setting in and as we were contemplating going back I then spot a strip of red and white tape. Hurrah! We saved! I never knew a bit of tape could be such a welcoming sight! With the confirmation that we were on the right route, we then forged ahead where the road would come to an end and we found ourselves on a dirt track.

Things started to get very undulating now; in fact hilly. Initially some downhill then an uphill; so much for this being a flat course! I had also lost my company as he seemed to tackle the hills far better than me and had pretty much deserted me.

Thing did then settle down when I arrived back by the Thames. However, with all ups and downs I wasn't sure I was still on the right route. As the distance continued to clock up on my Garmin I was getting worried that I may have actually missed the next aid station.

Then the head torch started flashing indicating the batteries were getting low. I had spares, but wanted to get to the next aid station first and replace them there as it would be easier to do the swap.

A Friendly Face or Two

As things seemed to mount up against me, I then I see a chap who I think was involved in the race organisation as I was sure I've saw him at some of the earlier aid stations. I asked if I was going the right way. He replied yes and pointed out the bridge ahead that I had to cross to get to Streatley for the next aid station. Phew, panic over.

Streatley was a much smaller building than the previous ones. Not sure why I was surprised by its size. However it was no less stocked of food and drink. Now, I know someone did warn me about sitting in chairs at aid stations, but for some reason I couldn't stand and at the same time replace the batteries on my head torch. So I had to sit. Once the new batteries were fitted though I made a point of standing up again; I wasn't going to do another Whitchurch! An aid station helper though reassures me that I would only need a couple of hour's battery life before day break. And after taking on some food and drink and thanking the volunteers there, as I had at every aid station, I moved on.

Just up the road I bumped to Rachel Smith; Traviss's other half. She was waiting for Traviss, who apparently wasn't far behind me. She kindly walked with me for a while and gave me some philosophical words of wisdom when I confessed that the day hadn't gone to plan and that my hope of a sub 24 hour finish was looking pretty dead as I just wasn't moving quickly enough, and basically I wasn't in the best of places right now.

Daybreak and the Endless Meadows

As I headed upstream towards Wallingford, the sky was slowing turning from black to a dark bluish grey. A sign that dawn was on its way, but also that it was overcast, which was later supplemented by rain. Thankfully, I still had my rain jacket on. In fact I hadn't taken it off all-night.

At the Wallingford aid station I'm offered some pasta, which went down really well, before I have to have my first toilet stop. Only a pee, but it did seem strange that this was my first toilet stop of the race considering how much fluid I had taken onboard. However, in one of the adjacent toilets I could hear someone throwing up and clearly not well so reported this to one of the aid station helpers who then goes to investigate.

After Wallingford, there was a bit or road to navigate taking us through Shillingford, before I appeared to end up on a long stretch of seemingly never ending meadows. As I worked my way across one field, passing through a kissing gate I'm only greeted by yet another field; all rather demoralising and even another runner when on passing me comments dejectedly on the endless meadow.

Thankfully the meadows weren't actually endless and I eventually arrive at Clifton Hampden.

Not Succumbing to the Chair

Clifton Hampden wasn't quite what I had expected. After crossing a bridge I spot a Thames Path sign, but a marshal there instructs me to go carry on ahead on the road and turn left further up. I wasn't sure initially where I was going but then released where I was when I saw the familiar white Centurion flags outside the aid station.

Inside there were a few tired looking runners, of which a couple had succumbed to the chair. I didn't feel exactly great myself and did initially sit down before realising that would be a mistake and so immediately got up again.

To underline the point about the chairs, one of the aid station helpers walked over to another runner who it seems had been sat down for a while, and suggested they got up before their legs stiffen up too much and not be able to get going again. The volunteer was typical of those I had met throughout the race. Always attentive with a real sense that they knew what you were up against, but then I overheard at a few of the aid stations that some had taken part in previous years and so had lived through the same ordeal.

Another runner was sat down on talking to a relative on the phone. I had arrived after him but managed to get out before him. A boast to my morale albeit a minor one as I felt I hadn't wasted as much time as him at the aid station. In essence, I had in Formula One terminology; undercut him.

After leaving the aid station I retrace my steps back to the Thames where the marshal who had directed me up the road to the aid station earlier now directed me back along the Thames.

Blisters, Mud and Cocktail Sticks

My feet were getting really sore now and any slight wrong footing on the muddy terrain only made them hurt more. My feet had got totally soaked from the rain earlier and despite having plastering them with petroleum jelly at the start of the race, which normally works for me, I suspect I now had several blisters that themselves had their own blisters.

The guy who was on the phone at Clifton then passes me at a decent pace, but I reckoned it was a good mile from Clifton, which sort of shows how much time can be saved if you stay disciplined at the aid stations and stay no longer than necessary.

But pack to the Thames path, which was muddy and simply getting muddier, more uneven and peppered with tree roots and other hazards, I was now wishing I had changed into my trail shoes at Henley. With the lack of grip and feet really hurting; in fact quite severely now, my pace had become rather pathetic. But having got this far I was determined to keep moving, and the fact I was still moving was good enough to be called progress for me at this time.

Although the distance from Clifton to Lower Radley was probably one of the shortest distances between aid stations, it felt like one of the longest. However, I managed to get there and on arrival an aid station helper was quick to furnish me with whatever food and drink I wanted. I spot some cheese and pineapple on cocktail sticks. These went down a treat (not the actual sticks obviously), and didn't require much water to wash them down. The juicy pineapple seemed to be enough to stop my mouth drying up and thus allow me to chew the cheese relatively unhindered. If only I had discovered these earlier in the race!

After leaving Lower Radley I'm nearly taken out by some rowers who were moving one of their boats and who had clearly not seen me, despite the fact that I had seen them coming and so made a point of trying to give them a wide berth.

Not There Yet

With that minor drama out of the way I continued, taking a quick glance at my Garmin watch, which sadly had confirmed what I had feared for some time. I wasn't going to finish under 24 hours. However, as if to offer some form of consolation, as the time clocked 24 hours, the watch suggested I had actually done 100 miles. Though of course what really matters is the official distance and time at the finish, but thanks all the same for the sentiment Garmin.

A mile or so later and another glance at my watch revealed it was now saying the battery was low. I couldn't believe the external power supply I had connected to it for the entire race had died. However, on examining said supply it looked a bit damp, despite being in a waterproof pack suggesting perhaps moisture had got in to its circuits and shortened it. Good job I had a backup power supply, so I switch them over and the watch then seemed ok and started charging. Thank goodness, last thing I wanted was for the watch to die a mile or so from the finish. I wasn't allowing myself to die so why should the watch get it so easy?

Eventually the muddy path turned in a more welcoming flat asphalted one. I was now surely on the outskirts of Oxford and did spot a sign shortly before that said Oxford was 2 miles up the path. As I continued, the sun was beginning to come out and consequently I was now getting a bit warm as I still had my raincoat on, but being so close to the finish I couldn't be bothered to now take it off.

Finally

Something I hadn't seen for a long time was people not connected with the pace. Many were out on the path just walking, but had clearly worked out what was going on or had been told and so many of them cheered me on as I started to try and improve on the little pace I had.

I was then directed left in to a grass field where ahead was a large inflated blue gantry; clearly the finish line. Although I couldn't quite muster a sprint I was at least running when I crossed the finish line where Nici Griffith, one of the race organisers then hugs me and presents me with what is my first ever race buckle.

4 - Oh, is it now over?

My mother was also there, and we have our picture taken by the official photographer before I finally sit down, knowing as last that there was no rush to get up. In fact I no longer had to ‘beware the chair'; I could actually embrace it!

A helper then offers me some chilli, which like the pasta earlier in the race, went down very well. In fact I probably could have eaten for England!

Then after watching a few other runners finish, my relief at finishing was slowly being supplanted by sheer tiredness so my mother then takes me home.

Postscript

After dropping me off Saturday morning, my brother-in-law had headed home and during the day had regularly checked my progress on the Centurion website. He had also relayed updates by text messages to my mother. Apparently he got quite involved with checking my progress right in the night, where at some point he fell asleep at his computer only to wake up a few hours later with his head resting on the keyboard. Bless!

As for my power supply that got a bit damp, that I can happily report, made a full recovery, and says it can't wait to get back on the road (if it could speak of course).

The statistics for the race make quite interesting reading; of the 265 starters, only 182 made it to the finish and within the 28 hour time limit with 106 of those finishers within 24 hours. My own time of 25:36:17 netted me 121 st place.

My feet had indeed developed blisters in the latter stages of the race; in fact most of the surface of my feet including the balls and the heels were covered in them. These blighters did take a few days to heal up properly so I didn't go running again for nearly a week, but two weeks after the Thames Path 100, I was back to running form with my next marathon at Koblenz in Germany, so no long-term damage it seems.

Written by Dan Park - http://dan-fattofit.blogspot.co.uk

It seems a very distant memory that moment I thought about running the Centurion Grandslam and an equally distant memory when Zoe agreed. Yet after several months of working training into normal life I found myself only moments away from starting my greatest running challenge to date. Training had gone reasonably well and there were no reasons to believe that I could not cross the finish line in Oxford. Besides for a race like this you have to believe you are going to finish or you are beaten before you've started. What I hadn't anticipated standing at the start line was just how much of an epic journey this race would prove to be.

All my bags are packed and i'm ready to go....

I started a countdown clock to prevent any complacency and yet it still seemed like it went rapidly from 80 days to 30 days and then boom race day. I arrived the night before and stayed at a hotel with Sam Robson and our friend Nick. Nick was to be crewing Sam and so whilst they discussed meet up points I ran through in my mind the contents of drop bags and how I intended the race to play out. Having prepped my bags in advance there was very little left to do on that front. I instead thought about the race. My intention being to start off slow and try and keep an even pace throughout. There would be natural decrease in speed, but overall I wanted to see if slow and steady could win the race... Well not win, but... well you get the idea.

The lucky monster made by my boy.

 

With Kit Check done I lined up to get my race number. Granted I was initially in the wrong line until another friend David Barker said hello and directed me to the right line. We spoke about plans for the race. With David aiming for sub 17 this would likely be the only time I saw him over the weekend. I had the opportunity to meet Richard Stewart for the first time as well. He was looking ready to run a great time and again I didn't think i would see much of him over the race. A quick hug and hello with Nici and I had my race number. I swear that woman must cover more mileage than the runners over race weekend. I headed outside to dispatch my drop bags before the start. The slick registration process meant I had some more time to kill and so caught up with a few other runners. It was a great opportunity to catch up with Ultraboy (sorry I cant disclose his true identity) who I class as a good running friend since we shared a few hours on the SDW50 last year. After talking about are plans and build we both clearly had the same priority of making sure we finished. Everyone was in good spirits and you could feel the energy rising as the countdown to the start drew nearer and nearer. Wishing Sam Robson good luck I headed for the back of the pack. I didn't want to be drawn into a fast start only to burn out at mile 11. So some final catch ups with Bryan Webster, Rew Landells and Tim Lambert and we were ready.

Ready to race.

 

The Three Amigos.

James Elson gave his final remarks to the runners. As ever he reminded us to keep safe and that at some point we were going to get wet. My personal favourite though was the warning to all those running through Reading in fluorescent that they would be shouted at and so to run quicker. With all the remarks completed the countdown began... 10.... 9...... 3.2.1... and we were off.

 

The calm before the storm.

 

 

The race started fairly steady, following my intended pace plan. I was run walking from the outset. This was working well to preserve my Legs for as long as possible and so on I trudged. I say trudged as I was struggling to find a rhythm. It was feeling like it could be a long day, but running this distance before has taught me that emotions change rapidly over 100 miles. Before I knew it I was in to the first aid station. I tried to take on plenty of food. As I was leaving a runner was dropping due to illness. At this point I was very much near the back of the pack. My pace suggested that I was doing just fine. I decided to trust that and either everyone else was going to have storming runs or I'd gain places later on in the race. And into the breach I continued. The weather was proving at this point to be pretty much perfect for running. I seemed to be heading out still at a good pace, but just not in a rhythm. Was it the monotony of the flat? The time of day? The fact it was mostly path or packed trail to this point? I wasn't sure but I told myself to "shut up and run" and then it happened... I looked up to see... Well nothing actually. There was no Thames Path sign, no acorn sign and no bloody ticker tape. I hunted around for a bit and to the outside world probably looked like the crazy guy not to be trusted. I searched around trees, gates and fences. FFS where did I go wrong there was NO obvious turning and NO way I could miss it. Despite this instinct I have learnt well enough now that in a Centurion race if you have not seen a path sign or tape then it is YOU who is at fault. With this in mind I began the galling task of retracing my steps. In doing so I bumped into another runner who had made the same mistake. Well at least I wasn't on my own in that error. We jogged back along the path and suddenly... A bridge, a fucking great big bridge, a bridge only the blind and me could miss. Worse still right by this bridge was a lovely Thames Path Sign and just out of the corner of my eye was the tape, whistling in the wind and beckoning me to the steps of the bridge. So Staines your park was beautiful, but I will never remember you for anything other than that blue bridge (or was it green). 

The rain came down in spells and it was clear my montane minimums jacket and trousers would do a cracking job. I was building momentum and ignoring the soreness of my ankle. I overtook a couple of runners and arrived at Reading. 58 miles done. Here there were a couple of runners looking broken. It seemed the drop rate was rising rapidly. Perhaps it was to do with the steps climbing into the aid station. For me this was a relief from the flat running and the muscles for climbing the stairs spoke to me like the neglected child. Keen to impress they bounded up the stairs. The welcome at Reading was a warm one and a chance to catch up with Paul Ali. He told me I was looking good. I'm sure this was a conspiracy between aid stations to perpetuate a lie. Susie Chan was going to have a selfie with monster (who was still in tact), but I forgot and was keen to get moving. Paul kindly threw me out of the aid station, reminding me to cross at the bridge. Just before the bridge I changed the battery in my torch. I didn't want anything to stop my momentum growing. The rain started coming down quite heavy as I negotiated my way out of Reading. My kit was doing a sterling job. I had taken my hat off to enjoy the rain. I only noticed just how bad the rain was when I ran my hand through my hair and it was soaked through, beyond this I was completely dry.

Reading Aid Station

 

I crossed a bridge and joined the canal path to press for the finish with the clock still ticking. I was gaining places and yet somehow still was not sure I had it in the bag. At this point I approached a bridge and the sight of Drew Sheffield. Drew was exuberant with kudos and said "that bridge there is 0.8 miles to the finish and you have 30minutes." I swear that man has never been so beautiful. I pressed on and was given a reference point for how close I was to needing to turn into the finish straight. Every time I went to walk Liz's pacer shouted my name from behind me and told me to run, so I did. Then from over the crest of a small hill I saw the best sight so far... My wife. She looked relieved, delighted and a little surprised that I was so near to the finish. She told me Finley wanted to run with me and so ran back to tell him and others I was coming. And so with that I picked up the pace. I was not going to stop now. I turned into the field and there was the finish line. I picked up the pace for my usual Sprint, but this was no usual race. There he was my wonderful little boy. He saw me and shouted "daddy I run with you" with that he ran to me with open arms. So we held hands and ran the last 50 metres. The greatest 50 metres I have ever run. We crossed the line and I scooped him up for a hug. The one and only time I think when Nici didn't mind being the second hug. I hugged my wife and my daughter. The race was done. Nici gave my buckle to Finley to give to me and I was over the moon. The lion roar that I thought would come out across the line melted away to the awe of the event and the joy of seeing my family.

Finley is simply my little hero and true inspiration.

Not sure which of us had more fun.

So it was done. An eventful race and an emotional one. Interestingly though throughout the race I felt in control of my plan and my running. The sore ankle and wrong turn probably cost me 150 minutes or so in total. The key today was to finish and on to the next race. I will be seeing a physio before SDW100 and looking at options such as taping my ankle. If I can prevent these issues then SDW100 should be a great race. This Grandslam is going to be even more epic than I first imagined. I may be an emotional wreck by the end, but get there I will. For me I think TP100 with its 28 hour cut off and terrain  is harder than SDW. The pounding my joints took is not something that SDW tends to do... Famous last words.

My Amazing little family. Moments like these are why I run.

 

Monster made it. see you at SDW

Achilles aftermath.

One down and four to go.

Love the new buckle.

My Monday recovery view

My Monday recovery view.

Final thought for all those running or aspiring to run an Ultra.

Written by Tremayne Dill Cowdry - http://dill-runs.blogspot.co.uk

Last year I went into the race after a campaign of good training, good eating and a perfectly honed race plan in place. Of course the race went tits up. Too much pressure on my self, it was always destined to go wrong. This year I thought I would not stress so much about everything, ate a less than perfect diet, put on a few pounds and generally had a much more relaxed approach to the race. I had a very loose plan A that was to be, run the first half in 8 hours and see how I felt. Possibly pushing forward for a pb attempt if I felt good. If anything was not going right I was going to back off as I've got the Dragons Back race at the end of June and I didn't want to jeopardise that. Having said that this race was special to me not only because it's my WS qualifier but it was to be my 11th attempt at a Centurion 100 having DNF'd 1 this would be my 10th finishers buckle.

Ready to go

I arrived a touch early for registration so headed for McDonalds for a pre race porridge and bumped into Rich Cranswick who had beaten me to it and was feasting on a sausage muffin. We chatted for a while before heading off to get signed in. Its always a good idea to get in early, I hate queuing for anything so I'd rather be early and then have to kill time. I had a good chat to James before I registered then had a natter with all the familiar faces around the registration room. I headed back to the car and got ready. I found a couple of other Spartathlon entrants and introduced myself to them, Paul Corderoy and Ian Thomas, I also had a chat with Martin Pether. Funny how you have all these FB friends and don't actually meet. I try to introduce to myself to as many as I recognise.


We were soon on the start line and the brief had taken place. I found myself right at the front and as per usually I could feel my race plan slipping away. I had had months to think how I would tackle the race and starting at the front wasn't in the program. I'd planned to start in the middle so not to get swept up in an early fast pace but no there I was again right at the front on my toes looking like I'm about to start a park run.

We are off

The horn went off and so were we. There were a few in front and I now concentrated on banging out 8min miles which due to some poor mental arithmetic should have been 9min miles. Still it felt good so I stuck with it. I felt really good early on and my thoughts soon went to a potential pb. I ran on and off with Ian and we chatted but I find it quite hard to concentrate on what I'm doing if I spend too much time waffling so the little and often chats suited me fine. Through the first aid station and I felt good.  My wife on usual crew duties told me early that I was going a bit fast but that fell on deaf ears. Today could be a quick one.


 I have been experimenting lately with a new powdered nutrition and it has been fantastic but after a couple of bottle refills it started to make me feel sick. Not great. Also I was using the Inov8 race ultra 10 pack for its first major event. It has 2 hydrapack bottles positioned under your armpits and then two straws up to near your mouth. I love the pack and set up but refilling is awkward to say the least especially trying to put a sachet of powder in the bottle then refilling then reattaching to the straws. I used a volunteer at every aid station to help with this. So thanks to all. On the flip side this is not going to be an ideal situation for the Dragons back and I'll have to have a re think on pack choice for that.


Soon out of Wrasbury I realised I couldn't maintain the pace and started to back off. My hamstrings, calves and one of my Achilles were hurting possibly due to being bent over laying turf all week. That and feeling sick certainly knocked me back. I started to enjoy the run more at the slower pace and began trying to get back on track for my 8 hour, 50 mile. Earlier in the day I had lubed my nether regions which is something I wouldn't normally do. I had chaffed my nuts during a training run so decided I needed some preventative measures. This in hindsight seems to have caused me more of a problem and I was getting sore. Perhaps I was having a reaction to the Gurney Goo I'd used? I reached Cookham and was back on track time wise. The running is lovely through to Henley and I had plenty of time to think about the race and how things were going. I could feel a hot spot on my foot and was very aware of a blister coming up on my foot.


I got to Henley and was greeted by the ever pleasant Karen and her excellent half way aid station. I decided to have a really good stop, so I first removed my sock to reveal a massive big toe blister which wasn't causing too much grief so I decided to leave it be. A change of top, a big bowl of pasta and a bag restock I was ready to go again. I'd reached Henley in 8 hours 11 so pretty much run a perfectly timed first half but the game was up I reassessed my race and made a firm decision that a pb attempt was off. Too much had gone wrong and my legs couldn't run the last half in under 10 hours. I decided it was to be damage limitation. Get the race done, no injuries and recover quickly to resume dragons back training.


I got to Reading and my chaffing was getting intolerable, I got a massive glob of vas and slavered it on but it just seemed to make the pain worse. I likened the pain to having sat on a cactus, it was awful. I had a quick few words with Jacqui and Paul before running on. I soon started running with David Thompson and we stuck together for a good few miles. We were counting down the miles a bit which is not best practice for getting you through but we were steadily run walking and apart from my obvious pain things were ok.


The head torch came out between Reading and Whitchurch as did my base layer it was getting chilly. I got into Whitchurch and my pal Lee was helping out. He had kindly bought me some dairy milk which was a real treat and gave me a real lift. Dave and I left Whitchurch and ran for a while until we reached the only hill on the course which goes down for about 20mtrs then back up the other side, well I managed to slip and fall bending my thumb back in the process. Great.

Cherry anyone?

I had a nice bowl of pasta at Streatley and told my wife to go and wait at the finish as there was nothing more I would need. It had started to rain so the coat went on too and we set off again. Some of the next 20 miles are amongst the dullest night time running you could experience. My chaffing was killing me, it was raining and it was bleak. This truly wasn't enjoyable at all. As I pondered the reasons why I do this and ate a small bag of jelly babies I managed to chomp right into my tongue. For f*ck sake there was blood pouring from my mouth. I put the jellys away and trudged on. Dave had more in his legs during this time and went ahead alone. I was ok though run walking and knew it would see me to the end. I had however forgot my cans of redbull to drink in the night and the sleep demons were pulling on my eyelids. At least twice I dozed off while running, luckily only running into the bushes and not the Thames. Not many people believe it is possible to fall asleep whilst running but I'm sure I'm not the only person this happens too.


The last 10 miles went by painfully, I had stopped applying vas hours previous and the cactus feeling was more like someone had fired staples into my bits. I ran, I walked and occasionally stopped with my legs spread to relieve the pain. I wanted this race done and I soon rounded the last bend onto the home straight. It was done 20hrs 20min. I received my buckle number 10.


I apologise to everyone at the finish who asked if I enjoyed it and got a blunt no, I'm a miserable git at best even if I've had a good race. However I did cheer up slightly after a good layer of Sudacream.


I'm glad I've got my 10th done as that has filled up my wall nicely and on the back of that I don't need to do this race again. I just know when entries open I'll be thinking that this race still has potential for a good time. Could the Thames path and I be finished? I'm not sure. I'm just not sure how to approach it next time to get a great time.

Number 10 in its rightful home

Written by Sam Robson - http://constantforwardmotion.blogspot.fr

Yay I'm winning! C/O Nick Hill

I felt pretty good at the start, and headed out at a comfortable but sprightly pace. Whilst I had no fine-scaled pacing plan, I was hoping for a good time, hopefully one less than 16 hours, and was hoping to get to the halfway point in about 7 hours or so. I feel like I've done enough of these things to know what pace is right, and was just aiming to run comfortably and see what happens. I passed the first aid station at 11 miles but didn't stop. I was due to meet Nick at 20 miles for our first meet up, and thought I had enough water and gels to last me.

Flying about 15 miles in. C/O Richard Felton

Finally meeting up with Nick. Can you see the anger in my eyes?! Grr. C/O Nick Hill

Pictured - resignation. C/O Nick Hill

There are worse ways to end a race. C/O Nick Hill

1. As ever, the people involved in this race - the organisers, the volunteers, the other runners, and everybody following along at home - were incredible as ever! It always makes me smile to see how incredibly awesome this little community of ours can be, and race day always solidifies this in my mind.
2. Those first 20 miles were pretty tasty. I used my watch for navigation, but not for watching my pace, so this was done entirely on feel, and was a comfortable pace for me knowing that I had another 80 miles to go. This bodes well for when I finally pull my finger out and try and run a decent marathon time, and makes me feel happy about my current fitness levels.
3. There's now no pressure on the other three races in the grand slam, so I can take them all as they come. That's a bit of a shit one though, as it basically means I don't have to worry about failing as I've already failed...
4. It meant that I got to have an absolutely lovely day with my family on Sunday.
5. Other than my stomach, I have no issues so can crack straight on with training for the next race in 6 weeks.

Written by Dave Stuart - http://76thmile.blogspot.fr

He is my race report from the Thames Path. It was my third sub 24 finish thanks to the wonderful organisation of Centurion and the fantastic volunteers. Most of you reading this will be familiar with Centurion running but for those who don't, they run a series of fully supported 4 100 mile races and 4 50 mile races around the South of England.

Short version

It was sunny, it snowed, it was sunny, it rained, the stars came out, there was a shooting star, I fell in a puddle, it was cold, the sun came up, the finish arrived. So long and thanks for the buckle - the volunteers were awesome too.

Longer version

I'm a mid-pack runner (maybe 60th percentile would be more accurate) but if we did cut-offs for writing skills I wouldn't be getting a buckle (C at GCSE English was as good as it got). Hopefully I can share some of the things that went well and not so well. It is also much better to learn from someone else's mistakes so I am sharing some of mine.

I'm usually quite slow at getting my reports out but I thought I would try to get this one out early to remember the details. It will probably come out a bit like a 8 year old's stream of consciousness story of what they did in the summer holidays so you have been warned.

Registration

It was the usual slick Centurion registration process. I had been organised and did all my labels before leading home. Unfortunately I had written the wrong number on every single one of them so had to correct them all. Not the best start.

Next was drop bags and Sarah Sawyer who I had run most of leg 2 with on the A100 was on drop bag duties so nice to see another familiar face at the start. A quick briefing from Team GB's James Elson and we were on our

If you get one thing from this report, there is a bit in the first mile where the front runners go straight on through a little park and through a swing gate. If you are called Craig or Sam, this is a great route. However for people like me, you can avoid the bottleneck by taking the slightly longer route around the outside. You also get to laugh at the people jumping the spike topped fence to save a few seconds. Not worth a ripped pair of shorts (or worse) at this stage.

First 22

I started running with my running buddy Owen and his mate Chris the Physio. I was a bit slow leaving aid station 1 and they thought I would catch up. They would go onto finish together in an amazing 20:02. I ran a few miles with James who I had spent most of the second half of last year's race with. I also met Kate Jayden and Gabriel for a few miles of discussing the merits of a vegan lifestyle. I'm a long way from being vegan (or even veggie) but I've made an effort to get a lot more calories from plants this year. All in all a fairly social start to the race.

I had cramp in both quads just before the crew checkpoint at 28 miles. I added a High5 electolyte tab to my bottle and it went in a minute or so and luckily didn't return. I know a lot of people have their doubts about the benefits of additional electrolytes as food should have enough but the effect (placebo or otherwise) was enough to convince me. Fortunately I was free of cramp the rest of the day.

A few of the highlights of the first 30 miles were Hampton Court, Windsor Castle and a blizzard, A blizzard might be exaggerating but it was definitely snow flurries through Staines. Typical Centurion weather even in May.  I also bumped into a work colleague who had told me in the office that his mate was also running the Thames Path. In a weird coincidence, his mate was the guy I was talking to at the time. What were the odds? (actually about 1 in 294 given the number of starters)

I went through Dorney a couple of minutes down on last year but feeling pretty good. The Sawyers appeared again and helped me refuel and get on my way.

Hurley so arrived and I had my number taken by Graham Carter. Luckily there weren't any drinks for me to knock over this time.

There was a proper shower of rain and before long I got to Henley. I remembered that it was on the far side of Henley so didn't get into a big huff last time as I made my way past lots of pubs and pub goers.

Henley - half way by distance

Fellow Wednesday night headtorcher Louise Ayling was host at Henley. A couple of teas and some splendid spag bol fueled me for the second half. First 50 had been fast aid stations but this was the first proper break. A change of socks and top here and put the trail shoes on. I looked back as I was leaving and had left waterproof behind. Always check behind you when you leave an aid station!

Reading - half way by time and start of the 27 miles of proper night running. The crux of the race is the next 27 miles - get to 85 mile and the (metaphorical) boot of Dan Park out of the 85 mile point should be enough to get to the finish.

I had fallen into running with a fellow mid packer in Rich who as an added bonus had a gadget which told us how far to the next checkpoint. We whiled away the hours through this bit with me asking every 5 minutes if we were nearly there yet.

Whitchurch to Streatley is the fun roller coaster bit through the woods. I had joked about this being the Thames Path's Hillary step which is the key to making it to the finish (or Mount Everest). It is a comically step bit after 70 miles but was over quickly.

The next section was the land of the never ending field. I remember this from last year but this time it was a starry sky rather than torrential rain. The fields still went on for ever.

We had just a fireworks display on the horizon earlier when there was an extraterrestrial firework display. It looked a bit like white firework going sideways but it was a long way from were we had seen the others. I thought it was my mind playing tricks but other runners have mentioned it since.

I had been talking to Rich and about the name of my blog and that the 76th mile is roughly the mile which has the most DNFs. We were part way through the 76th mile when Rich was slipping round the edge of a puddle and he was uncomfortably holding a barbed wire fence to get round it. I went round the other side and promptly fell arse first into muddy puddle. At least it wasn't the Thames but I was covered in cold mud and it was pretty cold. Rich was an absolute gent and help me out of the puddle. He even waited until he was sure I was ok before laughing at me.

I always take a spare pair of shorts and I got changed at Wallingford into a new pair of shorts and an extra base layer. Having done the A100 and last year's TP100 in shorts I thought I didn't need waterproof trousers but this wasn't the smartest decision in hindsight. It was cold in shorts to say the least. I also managed to lose a shoe in the mud at one point so was a muddy mess arriving at this aid station. I am truly very sorry for the mud I left there - I should have cleaned up the mud but I would have struggled to bend down to pick up a tenner after 78 miles. It was also nice to see the heated chair of doom with a volunteer sat in it rather than a fresh DNFer. This is probably the most important aid station in the whole race and I have particular thanks to the guys and girls here.

Last year it was still dark when I finished this section so I knew I was quite a long way behind last year but seeing the sunrise out on the trail was amazing. There was a clear blue sky with a fog over the Thames and frost on the ground. It was absolutely stunning and I wish I had taken photos but it was so cold and I would have seized up if I had stopped to take photos. I will have to keep just my memories. It is a privilege as a 100 mile runner to see the sunrise after having travelled through the night. Whilst this year was a bit slower than last year, it was definitely more enjoyable than the rain and trench foot of 2015 .

Clifton Hampden

The sun was up and thoughts were turning to getting things done. I had a quick chat with Dan Park about his GUCR race plans this year and compared notes on Grandslams. I am sure you will get the big buckle next year.

Abingdon and Lower Radley

The last 15 miles or so were 4 hours of power walking as my hamstrings were unhappy. Last two aid stations were back to grab and go with tea and coke being the order of the day. Rich pulled away from me in the last couple of miles as he could actually run even if they were 12 minute miles.

The end

Finish was 124 out of 207 finishers and 295 starters in 23:36. Just the 9:24 behind Craig Holgate.

It was lovely to see the blue Centurion arch again with the usual multitude of emotions. Louise was again being a great host with a finish line cup of tea. I got a hug from Nici and congratulated James on a great race and Team GB honours and before long it was time for a shower and taxi to the station. Next time I will remember a towel rather than using a base layer...

See you in Winchester for the second installment of the Centurion Grandslam....

Goals and performance

AA Sub 21 for Spartathlon
A Sub 22:40 (current PB)
B+ Sub 23:03
B Finish sub 24
C Finish

I am very happy to have finished with another sub 24 buckle. I had hoped to be a bit quicker but any finish is a good one when the finish line is 100 miles from the start. I enjoyed the night section which couldn't be said for last year. The sunrise and stars were particularly spectacular

It means I have two tickets for the Western States draw and also have 15 UTMB points (or whatever the minimum is) for 2017. And most importantly the Grandslam dream is still alive.

Thanks again to the wonderful volunteers and I particularly thank the wonderful people who give up their Saturday night though to Sunday morning to help people like me to get through 100 miles. And sorry again for the mud at Wallingford...

Written by Phil Bradburn - https://untrainingultrarunner.com

It is fair to say that I wasn’t sure what would happen at Thames Path 100. Apologies in advance for a lengthy post!

I had a spreadsheet. Three pacing scenarios (1. Everything is out of this world (22hrs). 2. Great (24hrs). 3. Horror Show (28hrs). But I had no idea which one would play out.

This is the first 100 miler I have done any specific training for rather than my “turn up and grind it out” approach that I took to both SDW100 (2015) and Autumn100 (2016) both of which I finished within the final hour allowed by the races.

I was lucky to stare a hotel room with Dan Park – which meant that instead of worrying about the next day, it was a total blast having chit chat about the race and various other stuff. It also meant that I didn’t have to worry as much about getting up in time (what’s the chance that we would both miss our multitude of alarms?).

Caught up at the start with some friends – many of who are Centurion 100 regulars – Sarah Sawyer, Andy Bain, Dan Park, Joanna Turner and some new to the events Paul Commons and Louise Tidbury – plus others.

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After the race briefing we were off. I knew from volunteering last year that the distance has “bonus miles” so knew to treat distances as approximate between aid stations.

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The first 22 miles were great. I started off comfortable pace and found myself knocking out 9:30 – 10:30 minute / miles. Keeping things relaxed and chilled and knowing that many people would make the mistake of going out hard and fast either by design or accident. Met with Kate Scott at aid station 2 (Wraysbury) and went in and out and didn’t mess around too much. Thanks Kate and kids for the amazing cupcake! And sorry about the sweaty hugs!

Another highlight was not far from Dorney rowing lake when I bumped into Zoe Norman who gave me a much needed hug and some percy pigs wrapped inside a napkin. Thanks so much for the lovely message inside, which I read later on during the race. So lovely and thoughtful.

 

 

By mile 30 – I was having major stomach issues. This is something that besets me everytime I run alongside water – canals, rivers, (but never so far along the coast!). Luckily there were toilets which I was able to use at aid station 3. I spent around 15 minutes here. But I felt much better afterwards.

During mile 30-40 I suffered badly with things digging in my back from my racepack. I stopped a million times to adjust things, but nothing helped. I was really annoyed because I had tested this out during a couple of training runs and thought I had a way of avoiding these problems. I spotted Karen Grieves, Paul Pickford and Lee Kelly on a section along the river through a town (which one – who knows!)

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During some of the miles in the mid 40’s I had what felt like an awful race ending experience. Everytime I tried to run, my calves cramped and spasmed. ARGH! so painful and I imagined every time ending in a heap on the ground. I ended up walking 3 miles at some frankly hideous minute / mile pace. I pleaded with any runner who ran past me to spare me an S-cap – salt tablet. Thankfully a lovely lady gave me two. I was so thankful – but sadly didn’t note her name or number. After a mile or so, I was running again. No idea whether those things work, or whether all in the head, but I will take either!

I put in some decent miles up to Henley aid station (51 – ish – I was already on 53 on my watch). I was so pleased to pick up my pacer Paul Pickford. Paul make sure I didn’t piss around. I changed my top for a long sleeve merino one, drank my specially requested bottle of “fruity, non-gassy, drink”, and put my headtorch on (with the knowledge that I would need it before Reading aid station).

Off I went. It was great to have Paul along with me. By half way in a race I always want to chat with a friend of my choosing. I am the ultimate in antisocial runner (sorry to anyone I ignored in the first half because I was listening to music).

Reading aid station passed by – and then from that point I knew the section from A100. Running when I could. Taking walking breaks when I wanted to. I found having a little stretch out of the quads and calves helped everytime I got started on a run.

Feels of doom on the way to Whitchurch went much faster than during A100. I boomed along. Came across a yarn bridge !! Into the aid station around 67-69 miles. Didn’t mess around. Coffee. Then I had my first diva request that my apple was cut into pieces ha ha !

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I walked out of the aid station. Walked the steep incline, and then managed to crank out some decent pace – including on the uphill sections. We bumped into Stephen Turner and had a bit of a chat. This was a beautiful section of tarmac followed by trail. We managed to overtake a few runners here. I knew the route from A100 – which helped because I knew where to put down the pace and where to take it easy. Soon enough we were in Streatley. No messing around. In and out of the aid station – seeing Fiona McNelis and Lee Scott at the aid station. Lovely salty potatoes too!

From Streatley to Wallingford (73 – 80 odd) – I knew it was simply a case of knocking out a short ultra to the end with just over 30 miles to go. I knew the next section fairly well, walked some, ran some. Before we knew it we were at the Wallingford aid station. We had also picked up another runner who was tagging along. Happy to stick with us and pick up the pace when we did.

The next section was the worst (up to 85-87 miles) Through the dead of night to Clifton Hampden. OMG those fields go on forever! And my feet were protesting the undulations and lumpiness of those fields. I was starting to have sense of humour failure. We finally reached the aid station. Saw Lee Kelly doing the manual timings. Tried the loo again. Nothing much going on which was hugely frustrating!! ARGH!

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Then this next section I knew fairly well because I paced Paul Pickford here last year to the end. I knew where the easy bits were…. the hard bits and roughly the aid station locations. Ground out some decent pace on sections (Paul noted I was doing 9:30 / minute miles (albeit only for quarter of a mile) at a few points). By this point, I was being caught by some other runners but then played cat and mouse.

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Abingdon aid station (93ish miles) was a flash….. grabbed some grapes and I was out of the aid station before Paul could even fill his water. I was on a mission.

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I ran where I could. Walked some sections. Finally made it to the final aid station before the finish. I knew from last year that the distance was around 4.5-5 miles from the aid station at Lower Radley (95-98 miles). I gave my number without even stopping. I flew through the aid station.

This next section I was keen to put the pace on a bit. I shared with Paul Pickford that Dan Parkhad confidently predicted I would finish in 22hr 35minutes and that I had laughed at him. Paul said “Dan might be spot on!”. So, off I went. Running where I could. Walking the rest. I did trip over a couple of occasions and walking afterwards for fear of ballsing up the race.

Finally, we were on a good section of towpath along the (by now narrow River Thames). I ran for a mile or so and then decided to take a walk break. Had a bit of a jog along when the fancy took me.

Soon, we were at a couple of places I really recognised from last year where previously supporters had been offering congratulations. Soon we saw Kat Miller who shouted “Come on…. get a wriggle on, your missus is at the finish line”.

So, a jog I did….. then when I saw the blue inflatable finish line I put on some pace….. I squeezed through the gap in the railings and I somehow found some power. I laid it all out knowing there was about 100 metres maximum….

then rounded the corner towards the finish line gantry…..

then “OMG Phil – someone is sprinting you down!!!!”

FUCK – I progressively throw everything I had at this…. I am not competitive but I was buggered if I wanted the embarrassment of being pipped at the finish line. LOL.

Thankfully I came across the line first. And then dumped myself in a heap on the ground!

22 hours 26 minutes. In fact – 9 minutes faster than he confidently predicted!  

 

Here is the Strava Link

Thanks to my lovely and amazing wife Susan Bradburn for being at the end waiting for me with a bottle of Erdinger Alcohol Free for both me and Paul Pickford.

 

Samantha Mills for being a total bloody star for bringing Susie down to the finish and for driving us back home. Lee Kelly for helping place my pacer Paul Pickford.

Centurion Running for organising such a great event – and the volunteers who make it so special!

Mimi Anderson for fab coaching advice. You’ve helped me transform my running.

and how could I miss Paul Pickford for being the best #gatewanker ever! who beasted the shit out of me for 50 odd miles. I hope to return the favour at GUCR. You were epic mate. The best pacer ever!

So, that’s my first sub 24 100 mile finish. Over the bloody moon! I actually felt a bit tearful at the end that I had not only done it – but the time had 22 in front of it! And 66th out of 297 starters.

Great start to Centurion Grandslam – now just SDW100, NDW100 and Autumn100 to make a good fist of 

Sorry if I have missed anyone – I haven’t slept since Friday night!

What I learned:

1. Not pissing around at aid stations works for me
2. I wore Pearl Izumi N3 roads for the race – which was totally the right choice
3. Paul Pickford is an awesome pacer
4. Another race when I have stomach issues running along a water course.
5. Training actually works 
6. My friends are amazing (I knew that already!)
7. My socks worked – Steigen ones with body glide also on my feet. No blisters. Wow. First time that has happened on a 100 miler
8. My fenix 5X battery only lasted 15 hours before I had to charge it. (YIKES!)
9. Getting some running done at night for as long as I fancied at a time was great.
10. Running comfortable pace was perfect. That’s how I started and finished.
11. Got to make better efforts to stop things sticking in my back in my race pack.
12. Somehow I still had go in my legs at the end! How else could I sprint finish?!
13. My Petzl NAO+ lasted on the lowest reactive setting pretty much all night (8:30pm – 5ish am). On one battery!
14. Remember to work out how you will get home from the race finish before the last few days before the race!