Race Date: Sunday 12th April 2026

Why do I have a habit of accepting stupid challenges? Well to be fair to my friends, I had done seven half marathons by this point having not attempted a full marathon, so they had a point – but Dartmoor?

Enough elevation gain to practically be up Scafell Pyke, but on the plus point – local knowledge. Starting and finishing in the town of Tavistock where I moved to Sheffield from, it was always going to be a stunner for scenery, even if the first 10 miles were all up hill to Princetown (Dartmoor Prison/Radon Gas Town). The added benefit of all of the Monday Heeley training sessions providing a benchmark for doing a weekly long run, then mixing it up a bit with tennis, trail runs and of course the Derwent reservoirs as a classic long run route.

Having given myself four months since hurtling down an erupting volcano in Guatemala, the day arrived far too soon. Good form had arrived and preparation was good, but then Covid hit – brilliant. Sheffield Half was a turn up on the line and see what could be done, but proved as an amazing warm up as could be with partisan support from Steel City and Sheffield.

Sunday 12th April – doomsday? Not at all, a sunny day with a barrelling westerly wind pushing through the early hills to the middle moor, the Dartmoor ponies were out on show as they always were when running my Border Terriers through familiar roads to the high moors in the past. Before long Pork Hill arrived – a 1.9km lung-buster of a climb with an average gradient of 8.0%, the Sheffield hills were key, up we went in the shadow of Cox Tor. The first climb was done, a steady bit of relief before the longer and thankfully more gradual climb to Princetown – the wind again giving me a welcome push, looking up to Great Mis Tor or ‘Fred’s Tor’ as I gave a spiritual wave to my late little Dartmoor lion. The main climbs were done, but I knew what was to come, I was heading straight back into the teeth of that previously helping wind!

One rule of Devon and Cornwall, there are always hills, sometimes little pinnacles but short and sharp. The descent had 3 of these buggers, coupled with the gusting headwind the ‘descent’ with the pinnacles was as tough as it got. Thankfully I could see Burrator Forest and within this the sheltered Burrator Reservoir, my old tri-training hub and arguably one of the most beautiful reservoirs in the UK.

A welcome three miles of shelter with a lap of Burrator, nineteen miles in now, it was really starting to get tough, but I was heading for home now with seven miles of undulating hills and villages. Walkhampton, Horrabridge, Grenofen and Tavistock  – that’s all it was, just again more of those brutal short and sharp hills. Mind over matter, village by village, we were in Horrabridge with twenty two miles done and new distance broken. The pulsing cramps were starting, but I was not stopping, one last push to mile twenty three/twenty four to get up to Grenofen and Tavistock was in sight.

As my friend put it, which ‘demonic’ organiser put such a brute at twenty three miles, but this was Dartmoor at the end of the day! I was the clown that chose this challenge! Truly exhausted and well in the red now, reaching Grenofen and seeing Tavistock in sight gave the final lift to knuckle down and finish the marathon. Legs like concrete, pulsing cramps, but a few more undulations and onto Whitchurch Road (the Forever Never-Ending Road especially after twenty five miles!!). Practically staggering now, a finish through the market town before the kilometre long finishing straight, could I just hop on a bike and sprint finish Mark Cavendish style?

No, but the cherry on top was 800m out, there was my Dad urging me on – I sensed relief and overwhelming joy and I was starting to break. 400m out, there was my Mum going absolutely wacky crazy, the tears were flowing now – I was broken and zero shame as this had been a hell of a challenge, but there it was done, and not a bad time too at 4hrs 26mins.

Thankyou Steel City and especially to Monday Heeley group, there’s no way I’d have been able to do it had it not been for all of your support, guidance and collective chatter during the weekly sessions.

What’s the next challenge I was asked after finishing? Wolfing a Cornish Pasty and downing a Cornish Orchards cider, utterly exhausted but overcome with elation!