9th August 2025
It’s Quantum Baby!
Background:.
The Centurion Running North Downs Way 100 follows the national trail from its start at Farnham and heads East along the North Downs until it diverts to the finish at the Julie Rose stadium at Ashford.
The distance is 103 miles with 3350m of elevation, which is pretty similar to the South Downs Way 100 with 100 miles and 3800m. However, the South Downs hills are more rolling, with some of the North Downs hills being ascended and descended by steps.
There are 11 aid stations and 9 points where our crew could meet us. The time limit is 30 hours with intermediate cut-offs at the aid stations.
Race Report:
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” Dickens’ words are quite apt for this race – which gave both amazing highs and some very painful lows.
It had been a bit of a manic week by the time we had to leave home to head to Farnham at 5am on the 9th. We were going on holiday a couple of days after the race so I was clearing the decks at work as well as clearing out a relative’s bungalow ahead of its sale the following week. As a taper it was not exactly ideal as the stress caused my Parkinson’s symptoms to play up and also give me minimal sleep – which would have interesting consequences during the race. On the Friday before the race I was feeling rubbish. My get-up-and-go had seemingly got-up-and-gone. As it was the third race in the Centurion four race “slam” and the most challenging it was going to be a rough weekend.
Caroline was crewing me again which meant a long weekend for her as she drove me to the leisure centre to register and collect my number bib and tracker. I briefly chatted to some friends who were lining up with me and then waited with Shelagh, as we were again aiming to get at least halfway with our usual teamwork. The race had 208 starters so the sports hall didn’t feel too crowded as we gathered for the race briefing from James Elson, the race director.
It was during the briefing we decided the race was quantum – you could ask for anything at the aid stations, but don’t dwell for too long. Start the race hard, but don’t blow up. We added some exceptionally silly things to the list walking to the start – but I cannot remember any of them!
The start is a (relatively) short walk from the leisure centre with the mild peril of crossing the A31 just before the impressive metal statue marking the western end of the North Downs Way. The race start was a little further along the path so that we weren’t hanging around beside a dual carriageway.
The weather gods were smiling on us again as the morning would be overcast and slightly cooler before the skies cleared around lunchtime and the rest of the race would be warm, although we would get a westerly breeze on our backs.
All too soon the countdown finished and we set off. As we passed the start James gave me a shout-out. I figured my race couldn’t get any better and should have stopped at that point.
Shelagh and I had a plan to finish in about 28 hours and our pace would be similar to that of the South Downs – so a relatively fast morning then slow in the heat of the afternoon for a steady overnight pace.
The trail at the start is very runnable and a mixture of dirt, sand tracks and road as it wiggles over the river Wey and through small villages on the way to the first checkpoint at Puttenham (6.8 miles. 1 hour 23 minutes 32 seconds 182nd place). Having been on the aid station previously it gets manic as the main body of runners charge through but they had gone by the time we got there. It might be described as runnable, but in my case that also meant “trippable” as I caught roots, stones and apparently air so often that I started counting. Luckily so far I hadn’t fallen over.
I got held up in the loo for a couple of minutes due to a paper shortage (luckily I had spare in my bag) so Shelagh headed off without me. As I left the checkpoint I felt a sharp pain in my right calf. Bugger! Running was out of the question. I cursed as I knew that we were 7 miles in and had 96 to go. I put some voltarol on it and texted Caroline to dig out the painkillers. I’d done the same thing on my first 100 miler on the Thames back in 2020 so applied the same bloody-minded attitude. I walked and stretched the calf out which was really painful. I then tried what I call “scooching” – trying to glide along. I say “glide” but imagine I look like a toddler trying to run with a full nappy. Every pace felt like someone was hitting my leg using a hefty rubber mallet with a nail sticking out of it but I was operating on my “number of legs >1 keep going” policy. Shelagh called me as she went under the A3 as she thought I was ahead rather than the other way round. While deep in my despair I was chatted with Darla, a lovely bundle of positivity, who unknowingly made me realise that worse things happen at sea and to get a move on.
The endorphins were kicking in so I was able to make full use of the downhill stretch near Sandy Lane just before the RIver Wey and catch Shelagh up, and she was running with Jo Robinson too.
Caroline was waiting for me at Shalford Park so I swapped bottles and took some painkillers before trying to catch Shelagh again. The deep sand near Whinny Hill was hard going on the way to St Martha’s church but the view from the top was worth it.
The descent was definitely demanding all of my attention to avoid going face-first down the hillside.
I finally caught up on the hill before the aid station at Newlands Corner. On the way we passed a sign which was definitely meant for someone else!
I passed through the aid station at Newlands Corner (14.7 miles 2 hours 59 minutes 11 seconds 186th place) in a bit of a blur – apologies to the crew for not making the most of the awesome spread that they had set out before us, although wetting the neck scarf was much appreciated. It was now a warm day and the afternoon was only going to get hotter.
We jogged along the tree covered dirt tracks that headed towards the next crew point at Denbies Hillside. This is one of the differences to the South Downs with its hard chalk and flint tracks. The North Downs was formed as part of the same chalk cap millions of years ago, but it eroded away and exposed the underlying sand and clay which we were running along (or trudging through in the case of the really sandy sections). The North Downs Way benefits from a lot more tree cover along the section we were using for the race.
The track turned into a road as it passed above the vineyard and we waved at the trailers of tourists as they passed by on their tours. No, we did not think about hopping on board. No. Not us.
We met Caroline at Denbies Hillside and she let me know I was going faster than planned. The next couple of miles were downhill and I knew that from 25 miles the pace would slow with some big climbs and the rising temperature. After a quick stop at the aid station at Westhumble Fields (24 miles 5 hours 4 minutes 50 seconds 181st place) and a quick hug from Laure who was doing a fab job with her team, we then did a short out-and-back along the A24 so we could use the underpass.After turning away from the dual carriageway we crossed over the River Mole and approached Box Hill with its famous steps which Shelagh and I decided to count. Anything to take our minds off the relentless climb!
We went out of sync by half way finishing with counts of 278 and 280 – definitely more than the National Trust’s stated 275. At the top we were greeted by Caroline and Shelagh’s friend Helen who both had refreshing Callipos. I changed into my running vest as the sun was now in full swing.
Shelagh stopped to change her socks, so I pushed on ahead. The next aid station was Reigate Hill which was just under 7 miles away and I needed to make use of its toilets. Unfortunately my taste buds weren’t keen on the beer (alcohol free) that was given to me at the aid station but it was appreciated!
I actually left the Reigate aid station (31.8 miles 7 hours 8 minutes 56 seconds 165th) still ahead of Shelagh which I didn’t realise until I met Caroline again just after we crossed over the M25 at Merstham crew point.
Caroline was parked next to Shelagh’s friends Kath & James. We left the crew point together, vowing to plod out the remaining hours in the afternoon heat, as it wasn’t going to be too long until the temperature started to drop. I’d picked up my headtorches too as I wasn’t sure about the timing into the halfway checkpoint and didn’t want to be blundering around in the dark.
We had a chat with Jo Robinson who admitted her main reason for not pulling out of this race, despite a dodgy achilles the last few weeks, was due to her Premier Inn booking being non-refundable. It was about this point that the calf pain subsided to a level that I could ignore (rather than refusing to acknowledge it was a thing for the last 30 miles).
At Caterham aid station (38 miles 9 hours 5 minutes 39 seconds 175th) we were greeted by Matt, a friend of Shelagh’s, who told us we were doing amazing, whilst filling up our bandanas with ice. We left the aid station reflecting on how well things actually were going – we were both ahead of our pacing plans and on top of our hydration and nutrition. After several ups and downs including the steep downhill steps at Gangers Hill, I heard Shelagh calling my name. I jogged back to find her in a crumpled heap near the bottom of the steps. She had rolled her ankle over badly on a camber at the side of the path. While sitting on the ground she said this was definitely the end of her race and slam, and told me to help her up then go and finish the race and the slam for us both. Jo caught up and said she was going to drop from the race, but was deciding whereabouts – so it seemed a good excuse. Shelagh kept telling us both to go so eventually I jogged off after she had used my poles to get down a steep descent just before the Vanguard Way joined the North Downs Way.
I was a bag of mixed emotions on my way to the next aid station at Titsey. I was absolutely gutted for Shelagh. She’d been through so much on the previous two races, and today had been going like a dream – only to turn into a nightmare. I was determined to finish and ploughed on through the steep ascent before Botley Hill which used to be the location of the next aid station but it had moved to the Titsey Brewery this year. And my word, what a contrast! Previously the aid station was in a corner of a car park beside a roundabout on the B269 whereas now the gazebos were on a lush grassy area beside the bustling brewery/pub/cafe/restaurant/ice cream supplier (yes, I had an ice cream) and well crewed by Chessington Unity Running Club.
44 miles 10 hours 56 minutes 19 seconds 168th.
From Titsey it was another 6 miles to the halfway point at Knockholt Pound village hall. The path followed the top edge of the scarp slope but still had the odd steep ascent. As with the previous two races now the sun was going down I found it easier to maintain the pace and started overhauling runners on my way to the aid station (50 miles 12 hours 29 minutes 4 seconds 159th) . After a quick toilet stop I shared Shelagh’s plight with Graham, one of our friends who was volunteering, so rather than a cup of tea and chinwag it was a quick hug and back out into the village heading east (surprise!).
It was the first time I had covered the next section to Otford as I’d recce’d from Otford to the finish over a couple of weekends with Shelagh and her friend Carl. The light was fading by the time I ambled walked purposely to the village hall carpark to be met by Caroline and her bag of goodies. I’d had enough of the contact lenses – the eyes were really tired by that point so I put on my cap and glasses (the cap is essential or the head torch lights up the inner lenses so I can’t see a thing). After brushing my teeth as my mouth had felt like carpet and I was unable to eat or drink anything before the crew point, I set off to face the steep hill of Otford Mount as the NDW again followed the top of the scarp before descending and rejoining the Pilgrims Way prior to Wrotham where there was a joint crew/aid station and I met Caroline again at the cricket ground. 60 miles 15 hours 22 minutes 59 seconds 133rd.
It was 11 miles from Wrotham to the next aid station at Ranscombe and the heat was only just going out of the day. I was still in my vest which I think is a first ever at that time of day (or night). After a couple of miles the NDW leaves the Pilgrims Way to head (you’ve guessed it) uphill to follow the top of the slope through Trosley Country Park before descending and rejoining and heading north east to Rochester. The trail at this point goes through several woods and here I had the weirdest consequence of a long week as the bushes and trees transformed into animals. It was a bit disconcerting to see dogs, bears and rabbits (amongst others). They would form from whatever leafy plant as a separate inanimate object then
disappear back into the bush as I drew near. The hallucinations didn’t stop as I got to Ranscombe as a whooping lady clad in a glittering hat greeted me. Actually it was not an hallucination, just Amanda doing her thing. Guaranteed to bring a smile, her energy and positivity is infectious. (71 miles 18 hours 30 minutes 18 seconds 122nd) After a quick loo stop and change into a t-shirt it was back out towards the Medway bridge and Bluebell Hill where Caroline, and Budgie who was going to pace me, were waiting.
It was a fast “no brakes” run downhill from the aid station and past the carpark which Caroline had declined to use as the next aid station because of the vibe when we had run through there in day light. After wiggling round the roundabout it was round the dark path where someone had chalked some morale boosting messages before crossing the Medway river on the M2 bridge. It’s not brilliantly lit, and as the traffic thundered past the small bushes that were clinging to the footpath kept doing their animal magic. After leaving the footpath beside the M2 the trail climbs 160m over just less than 3 miles. It felt like it went on forever in the darkness but in fact only took me 53 minutes. Just before I got to the checkpoint I passed some candles and music playing as a young couple were chilling and admiring the view. I chuckled to myself as the chance of a romantic tryst was now subject to over a hundred smelly and heavy breathing runners with torches interrupting them.
It was a relief to finally meet my crew at Bluebell Hill. Literally – I had to lube the undercarriage as some chafing had started in an unexpected location. At 3am, after the usual bottle swap and quaffing of ginger beer,(76.2 miles 20 hours 5 minutes 111th) Budgie and I set off for the next aid station at Detling which would also be the final time we would see Caroline until the finish. I’d let Budgie know my current trip tally (13 trips, 1 slip face first into some steps and 2 potential concussions from headbutting low branches) so he could join in the Sesame Street Count fun.
It was Budgies’ first foray on foot into that part of the country (he’d been there on two wheels a while ago) and I let him know about the lovely views over the Medway valley that the moonlight only gave clues about. He was trying to gee me along but I was content to bimble through the early hours of the morning as I was nearly asleep on my feet. After crossing under the A229 the NDW again took the high road to the hill ridge for 3 miles before rejoining the Pilgrims Way at Detling. I sat on the floor in the village hall while Caroline took care of my pit stop. I was due some meds and while my dopamine levels were low the tremors and dyskinesia appeared so my left foot was wiggling and vibrating while my left hand was writhing around with a mind of its own. Unfortunately I had to spurn the offer of a bowl of pasta as it would stop the meds from working as effectively as I needed them to. Before setting off again I hugged my knees to give my back a much needed stretch. Then it was out of the village hall (82 miles 21 hours 59 minutes 42 seconds 114th) and rejoin the Pilgrims Way. I did comment that with all the ascents and descents that the pilgrims must have been very committed – which I now realise was overrating them as they had the easy flatter route options instead.
Just after Detling cricket pitch the NDW again took the path to the ridge which meant we could admire the morning views over the Kent countryside.
The section of trail just after Detling is full of short sharp ascents and descents on steps which slowed the pace but didn’t worry me as we had been through here only a few weeks ago and I knew what to expect – although this time I was seeing lots of animals materialising out of the undergrowth. When we had passed the gnarly bits I did let Budgie know that there were some runnable sections. Well, we had found them runnable when we were doing our preparation a few weeks ago when we had fresh legs. Whether I could coax mine into that after about 90 miles was another question. By now the trip count was climbing (without any falls so far) so we decided to walk the uphills and any dodgy sections and run the flats and downhills which picked the pace up a bit.
It was definitely getting hot by the time we arrived at Lenham aid station (90.9 miles 24 hours 51 minutes 14 seconds 102nd). The team did a slick job refreshing my tailwind (thanks to Réa and his super crew) and we trundled off to the last aid station at Dunn Street. The trail continued to vary between runnable gravel and lumpy stones but we were gradually increasing pace in spite of the heat. We kept swapping places with a few other runners along this stretch. When we reached Dunn Street I asked for a jug of water to be dumped on my neck (and may have started a trend) and I skipped refilling my bottles to save time as I hoped I would have enough liquid to get me to the finish. (98.4 miles 26 hours 44 minutes 44 seconds 94th). It was just after we had negotiated the ruins of St Mary’s church and admired the impressive house nearby that I confessed to Budgie about my hallucinations which could either be due to my parkinsons (every checkup I am asked if I hallucinate, so it seemed a reasonable possibility) or the lack of sleep and only time would tell after the race which would be the cause. He took it in his stride (I think).
We were now using every runner in front as a target – which also meant keeping going fast enough past them to make sure they couldn’t catch up. By now it was getting quite hot so we moved as fast as we could but mainly kept the jogging to the shaded areas.
Finally we were in the outskirts of Ashford and moving well. As with the previous two races I was running and not shuffling (well, in my mind it looked like running!) as we wiggled our way through until the railway bridge was in sight and I knew the finish lay just beyond.
We were given a surprise boost by Nigel and Linda from the tri club just inside the stadium and we “ran” around the track to cross the line after 25 trips and no falls in 27 hours 44 minutes and 32 seconds and finished 84th.
Post race review:
I think my initial feelings about the race were heavily influenced by Shelagh’s DNF. It ended her slam and I was gutted for her. As time has passed (and in writing this report) I’ve realised that even the climb up Bluebell Hill was type 2 fun. So I have cancelled my “never again” description of the North Downs Way 100.
The calf is healing well and hopefully “light jogging” will resume shortly. It has to because the final race in the Centurion Slam, the Autumn 100 is 18th October. Shelagh saw Matt, her friend from Caterham aid station at A&E next morning where he works and the x-ray showed that her ankle wasn’t broken but she has some spectacular bruising.
Oh, and the hallucinations about foliage fauna stopped after a bit of sleep.
[Centurion photo credits: Pierre Papet]