The rise of the marathon relay

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It’s 3am somewhere in the Polish countryside and you’re running through a swamp. Bugs bite your legs as you walk through 10km of mud at a brisk pace: soon, you’ll cruise to a designated rendezvous point where an RV with four of your teammates will pick you up to hand over the baton to the next runner. It’s completely dark, there are no signs for the route and all you have is a headlamp.

It won’t be most people’s idea of ​​fun. But Patrick Deba insists that it is “all part of the adventure” of border to hel, a 400km border-to-border relay race in Poland that his running club Swords Athletics founded in 2019, and which sounds, at times, like a literal interpretation of its homophone. The teammates each run around 65 km, for 30 hours straight; they also take turns driving the van, riding the bike [alongside the runner] and surf, as well as eat and try to sleep. It is a hectic experience. “Anything can happen,” says Deba. “You got lost. You get flat tires or get stuck in the mud. The van is pretty narrow.

Long-distance relay races around the world are gaining in popularity. Set events, such as bell to shore in Oregon, they are experiencing peak demand for international teams, while newer races are on an upward trajectory. Tribe celebrated its debut relay for Scotland in 2021, where runners covered 250 km from east to west in teams of eight. Next year, it will take place in Ireland. eurovoyage, a DIY event that sees runners traverse one European city to another, launched in 2022. Last year, it was 400km from Cologne to Bruges; this year ended in Strasbourg. Some 100 runners from Amsterdam, Berlin, London and Paris joined the Border To Hel start line in Świnoujście last month. It started as a guerrilla event; the first edition had only six competitors.

I saw things and met people that I wouldn’t normally find.

The relay is the perfect Venn diagram of fitness trends: a mix of ultramarathon, trail running and outdoor activities. But this newfound traction can be attributed in part to the speed project (TSP) – An intimidating and unauthorized 548 km journey from Santa Monica to Las Vegas that has no official route, spectators, rules or website. He has quite the following on Instagram, though: His sweaty shots of the desert, vast mountainous landscapes, empty highways, and wide skies have earned him nearly 45,000 followers. Border To Hel was inspired by him. It is not clear how to apply, which only adds to the attractiveness. Florence Papounot, a London-based marketing executive, directed Border To Hel in 2022 before completing The Speed ​​Project as part of an all-female team in March. She had seen photos of TSP online and “found it intriguing…it was one of the best things I’ve ever done.”

The marathon relay has historical precedents in many cultures, from ancient Greece to the aborigines of Australia and couriers who carried letters between Tokyo and Kyoto in Edo-era Japan. But it was the New York fire service that turned it into a baton race as part of a charity fundraiser, in the 1880s. The first Olympic relay was run in 1908; it later became a symbol of peace among nations through its torch-bearing parade after World War II.

Nowadays, they are mostly an excuse to go on vacation. “I had never been to the United States before,” Papougnot says. “I saw things and met people that you wouldn’t normally find on a regular tourist route.” She cites “incidents with dogs and barbed wire at night” among them. She gives people the opportunity to really experience a place: with each change of time, the landscapes change along with the light. “You run by the sea at sunset; across a meadow at dawn,” says Deba. “It’s really touching, people often cry.” Tears of happiness, she is quick to add.

This intensity is, according to Tribe co-founder Tom Stancliffe, the best way to disconnect from the daily grind. The relay forces participants to be present and test their own limits: for more than 24 hours, time passes in 30-minute intervals. “The only thing you can think about is whether you’re running, resting, eating or sleeping… you’re really in survival mode,” says Deba.

It is also a bonding exercise. Running is normally a solitary sport, especially in competition, but a relay offers community. It’s even becoming the new office party: Tribe’s Stancliffe says 60 per cent of the teams in last year’s Scotland relay were co-workers. “Companies are placing more emphasis on the health and well-being of employees,” he says. “What could be more binding than going to hell and running across the lochs of Scotland again? It beats sitting in the pub.” In fact, Budapest-based clothing brand Nanushka has twice competed in the NN Ultrabalaton, a relay race in Hungary. “You get to see another side of your colleagues and meet others who work in different departments,” says Adél Jáger, a product developer at Nanushka. The lack of hierarchy is also attractive: “You can run with your boss, but we’re a team,” she says. “They both have to put in the same effort and support.”

by distance runners, a relay offers an unscripted and unrestricted route that is a far cry from a hyper-controlled, facility-packed marathon. For others, like Jáger, it’s a more accessible extreme: there’s no 12-week training plan to follow, and it’s not about individual performance. “It’s not my goal to prove that I can run long distances and compete with others,” she says. “Seven or eight kilometers is a distance that I am capable of.” The relays, then, are more inclusive. “It’s not that competitive,” adds Stancliffe: Tribal teams also raise funds to fight modern slavery; so far, they have raised £100,000. “People focus on a shared goal…and the camaraderie of taking on a challenge with their friends.”