Running Long – The Thames Valley 50K

Andy seemed doubtful, as he sought my full assurance that I really was going to do this. “Yep, I’m committed. Go on you know you want to!”. I could sense he was tempted, having done the whole 100K over two days, many years before. James similarly needed persuasion and likewise was hesitant. There was no desire to sign up for this race, only to find it was going to be a solo affair. I was firmly committed though and had no doubt. Admittedly we were originally discussing signing up for the full 100K, but in the end common sense (and acceptance of reality) prevailed, and we ended up settling on the 50K “Day One” event instead. Mutually convinced, the lads signed up too, and low and behold we had a plan. July 11th, 2026, was a date firmly fixed in the diary. The day we would run an Ultra.

Race to the Stones is a 100K (62.2 mile) trail run which starts near Lewknor in Oxfordshire and has been held each year since 2013, now attracting around 3,000 participants. The route cuts across Berkshire and the Thames Valley, then up along the Ridgeway National Trail (Britain’s oldest road) ending at the 5000-year-old Avebury Standing Stones in Wiltshire. A meandering, undulating and scenic route across some of the UK’s most spectacular countryside with ancient trails and historic locations scattered along the trail. The full 100K is the main event, but options are available to do either the first or second half as different events, with day one being labelled the Thames Valley 50K, and day two being the Ridgeline 50K. The full route has a total elevation climb of 1,350m with both halves being relatively balanced although the day one climb is a little more with 720m in elevation.

It is run by the same company – Threshold – that puts on the Endure 24 events and is a high-profile event in their calendar of endurance events across the year.

I had crewed Jen for Race to the Stones on three occasions already. She had in the past run the full 100K in one day, but the times I witnessed her endeavours she was ‘just’ doing the 50K day one option. Crewing is basically another term for chasing across the countryside seeking out points along the route to intersect your runner, and be there with water, snacks and whatever other sustenance or support is needed.

Running an Ultra is very different to a regular road race. The goal for most people is the achievement of the distance and to simply finish, with the time taken being almost a second thought. Aid stations are scattered along the route at regular (ish) intervals stocked with drinks and food, and it is not uncommon to take time out to refresh and then carry on. Unlike a road event where you usually just grab water off the table as you pass and keep on going. Also, given these are mostly off road / trail events, the terrain is more challenging and when crossing such a distance, hills of any note become a walking matter. For us mere mortals anyway.

Last year I had signed up to do the 50K too, but thankfully I am not completely off my rocker and when the temperatures were evidently going to be in the low thirties Celsius, given my lack of preparation I knew I had to call time on any ambitions. Instead, I crewed for Jen and supported as best I could whenever I could find her.

This year though it was my turn. Jen would instead take on crewing duties, and support Andy, James and I, with the lads having thankfully fallen for my sales pitch that it “would just be a fun day out on the trails” …

As the race date approached it started to become apparent that this year could be a hot one, as it was last year. The heatwaves immersing the country continued, and while there was some brief respite we were homing in on our race day being a very hot and sunny one. And it sure was. Peaking around thirty degrees plus and blazing sunshine with very little wind, it certainly was not ideal conditions for a long-distance run.

And so, we lined up on the start line for a 7:50am start – one of the middle waves of those spread every twenty minutes over two hours. The race director gave his brief, with unsurprisingly a particular mention of the heat and suitable cautions given. Usually there are three aid stations along the 50K route, but an additional three water stations – one between each – had been added. At no point would we be further than 10K from a water stop. But even 10K in such temperatures is a long way, and while we each carried about one litre of water in our race packs, that amount would not take long to be drained once the temperatures climbed.

Our plan: To get some distance in our legs before it got too hot. A just pre 8am start meant it was ‘ok’ temperature as we set off – about twenty degrees. But even by then the sun was up and not a cloud in the sky. Still, better to clip off some miles in that and minimise the amount needed in the full heat of the day. I had psyched myself to think of it as a twenty-mile run, followed by a ten-mile walk/jog in the sun.

And so, with a countdown which saw a shared nervous anticipation spread across our wave of starters, the moment arrived, and we were off. 50K to go.

I was in no way ready for the distance in truth. Admittedly this year I was way better prepared than I would have been had I been foolish enough to start last year. But even so, the most I had run in one go in the build-up was seventeen and a half miles (and the extra half mile matters!). That had been two weeks prior, and at the end of that I was hobbling around Henley hunting for water, having just run from Maidenhead along the Thames Path in the heat (about twenty-eight degrees on that day). The Regatta was being set up for the following week, so I ended running through the event village alongside the river with rowers galore out there practicing. Dodging bicycle crews cycling along the Thames path with loud halers calling to their boats was certainly a unique way to experience the river trails.

As I finished that run, I was glad I did not have another thirteen or so miles still to go. The week prior I had done a half marathon distance (thirteen miles) along a similar route for the first ten miles, just instead diverting back into Maidenhead rather than carry on to Henley. On both outings I pit stopped at the same ice cream van for a drink in Marlow. The second time the lady serving recognised me from the week prior – probably wondering why this crazy fellow was out running in the heat as both weekends were hot, sunny and in the high twenties. When I asked for water and coke, she offered me a frozen bottle of water instead as she had some in her freezer. I heard myself saying without thinking about it, “No it’s fine I’ve only got ten miles to go”. Not sure if that came across as cocky – certainly didn’t mean it that way! As I trotted on though, I had a flash of satisfaction that I was finally getting back into this running business after all. Since returning from India just over two years ago, I had a slow start in getting back out there as I continued to struggle with fitness and injuries. My lungs took well over a year to get back to more normal capabilities, and my continued high heart rate has prevented me from truly opening up the pace.

But persistence, and a thankful streak of injury free status has led me to finally getting back into a generally better level of fitness. Given my consistently (and unexplained) high heart rate when I exercise, I am less focused on speed now, instead having more interest in distance overall and ‘steady away’. The Docs have checked me out and said all fine. So, it is what it is, it seems… But by getting fitter my pace has improved, and I am back towards that twenty-five min 5K (a time I used to pace people for at parkrun when I wanted an easy Saturday morning ‘back in the day’!). I feel much more comfortable clipping along at paces now though which would have been tough this time last year. Encouraging.

So, when my ‘only ten miles to go’ comment came off the cuff, it was a realisation that things were finally going the right way. All being well, maybe I could do this 50K in a few weeks…

Andy, James and I had agreed we would stick together throughout the race and there would be no heroes. Whatever it took to finish together. I was vocal in stating that if they wanted to crack on ahead, it would be fine with me. All too aware that I would be the weakest link in our little triumvirate. They were insistent though, which was good to know. But equally was extra pressure too, given I did not want to hold up the lads whose underlying pace and fitness way exceeded mine. Pre the race I had commented in our WhatsApp group that there would be no shame if one of us dropped and injury prevented a finish. To which James told me I would not be welcome back in Knaresborough if I bailed. Good motivation!

And so, we were underway. We clicked off the first three miles in a reasonable 9.30min/mile or so average pace. Slowish in terms of normal runs, but a reasonable clip for this event. It found us at the sharper end of our waves starters but felt comfortable and was true to our plan to push on and get the most miles under our belt while the heat was lower.

The first climb came around the five-mile mark, and that saw our first walking stint. Knackering oneself out by running up steep hills when you have twenty-seven miles ahead of you does not feature very high up the good idea list.

The first aid station was at around six miles and came around almost too soon really. However, at every opportunity we refilled the water bottles (one 500mls for water, and the other 500mls for ‘High 5’ electrolyte drinks which are needed over such distance and heat). Shortly after the first aid station we crossed the famous ‘field of dreams’, a long expansive crop field with a narrow line cutting through what was this year very parched and dry crops. It was quite the sight – a long spread out line of runners tailing each other across this glorious sun-drenched field.

Then came the golf course crossing. Quite literally running across an active golf course and two greens, of which the second had someone waiting for a gap between runners for them to be able to tee off. I wonder what they thought of our ultra clan bringing such an unusual sight to their course. I had heard of this section from Jen, and so it was good to see it myself – as it was for the whole course after a few years of hearing all about each distinct section. There was also a welcome water hose hydrating the course which was perfectly placed for a brief shower as we ran by.

Jen was at the end of this golf crossing with the cow bell to greet us, and her experience on the course meant she knew exactly where the good intercept locations were. At this stage we were good for provisions, but having the encouragement even at those early stages was very welcome.

The camaraderie of events such as these is second to none. A whole group of like-minded people running, and similarly in those supporting. Ultras are not the domain of the fast and the sleek, but instead are an assortment of all ages, shapes, sizes and personalities. It is all about finishing not sprinting, and the journey is what matters. This opens the door to people who are focused on completion and accomplishment – sharing the same goal breeds for collaboration and support. It was evident all through the race. Andy was chatting away to all sorts, and even in the briefest of transits short terms friends are made, passed and re-passed. We saw the same people on many occasions. Some more often than others, and some only briefly. The guy with the crutches and one leg in a long sleeve who was ‘running’ with such a hindrance. The guy who had been there a few times before and was happy to provide commentary for those willing to listen. The 100K runners who all seemed to have a common theme of ‘will see how I feel at 50K and decide then whether to press on’. The 50K runners who had never done this before. The 50K runners who came back every year. All sharing the experience, all pushing forward one step at a time.

Five weeks prior to the race, I had completed my eighth 24h hour event, at Endure 24 Reading. My second outing on that five-mile course, and Jen and mines second consecutive year doing it together. The Endure events are a very different model in that you can run a five-mile trail lap as many times as you can or want in twenty-four hours. You can start and stop at the end of a lap and resume whenever you wish, just all within that total twenty-four hours – or at least you must start the last lap pre the twenty-four hour time being up and finish no more than an hour later. I had not been feeling in the right mindset for that event in the run up, as I had landed back from overseas travel the day before, and had Jen not been insistent I probably would have abandoned it. But her renowned determination won out (thankfully) and over the course of the twenty-four hours I clocked up seven laps – thirty-five miles – with the first three laps being done in one go. Not much for most participants of such an event but given my fitness levels was good enough for me. So technically I had run further than 50K in terms of distance that weekend, but it is a different format and with rests in between some laps, is not the same as doing it all in one go.

Following the golf course, we had gone along a long narrow trail through woodland for a few miles (and been held up behind some walking participants for a good mile or so) and then arrived down into the base of the actual Thames valley, with the route at this point turning to run along the trails parallel to the river. By now my legs were certainly tiring. About 14 miles in, we were yet to hit the halfway milestone and so I was a little concerned. At this point we came to the second aid station, which was a welcome chance for me to put my calf compression sleeves on to help support my lower legs.

Andy told me subsequently he was concerned I was going to struggle from then on, but at the time we all kept any inner turmoil to ourselves and pressed on. Seeing Jen at that point also helped, and as she left to head to her next point, we knew we had the town of Goring and Streatley upcoming. The next time we would see her would be on the other side of that town, just prior to the ‘bastard climb’ that would take us up out of the Thames Valley and onto the Ridgeway itself.

It was a milestone hitting the town as we had just passed the halfway point, and spanning the town at seventeen miles was also a psychological boost knowing we were only three miles (one parkrun!) from the twenty-mile point. Ironically the transit of the town is mostly uphill so largely a walking section. The people on the streets clapping and cheering are primarily doing so to encourage a bunch of hot and tired walkers, rather than runners. But regardless the support was great. As was the lady on her drive with a hosepipe when I said yes to the offer of a complete drenching – very refreshing!

As we climbed out of town, I remember the miles clicking across eighteen, and I called out to James that I now knew I would finish the race. Short of any injury, willpower would be enough from then on. I started to think it could be possible.

When we finally got to Jen’s impromptu aid station we reloaded liquids, ate snacks and I changed shoes. My Nike’s were feeling a little flat and harsh underfoot, so I switched to a relatively new pair of Ons that I had got out in Chamonix earlier this year for a trail run there in the mountains. That was a good choice and my feet felt more cushioned for the remainder of the run.

And yet, despite this new wave of optimism, the bastard climb did its best to dampen such enthusiasm. I had heard it was a long hill, but seriously…! After literally two plus miles of climbing, we emerged onto the actual Ridgeway and ahead of us lay ten more miles of exposure to the sun, with very little shade options, and a prevailing subtle climb throughout. And this was now the hottest part of the day, as we entered early afternoon. Combine the heat, the humidity, the sun, the lack of shade and the twenty plus miles already run, we were getting tired. Andy was doing well, and at times was pushing ahead. James and I pretty much stuck together, and all three of us orbited each other in an expanding and contracting distance bubble. Sometimes close, sometimes further spread out, but all the time within range. At one point Andy was so far ahead that James phoned him to ensure he was ok and to check knew he was not behind us. We caught him eventually as we neared the finish, where Jen had also found a spot to encounter us on the way.

Most of the Ridgeway was walking / jogging. There were times we would just walk in the sun, and then one of us would pick up a pace and we would each follow along. I was pleasantly surprised by how I could handle the ‘ultra shuffle’ over the last few miles. James and I, in our chasing Andy phase, did manage to keep a reasonable jog on for most of the remaining miles.

Crossing the marathon distance on that Ridgeway was another boost. I called that out at the time, and a few companion runners in earshot all gave out a little cheer.

With about one mile to go ‘base camp’ become visible on the horizon (albeit a little uphill from where we were) and then it was all a matter of formality. Finishing was a given, it was just how composed we would be.

As we crossed the final road, Jen ran alongside trying to get ahead of us from her greeting spot to ensure a prime vantage point for photographs as we crossed the finish line. Andy, James and I managed to keep that run going, and with a sense of pride, relief and achievement we crossed the line together.

A total time of 7h 41mins and a moving time of 6h 55mins. Overall, we placed 285-287 out of 690 finishers of the 50K. Considering we were not trying to go at any sort of pace, and given the heat and challenge of the climate we were happy with that.