Old Pocklingtonian Richard Sutton (81-88) has completed the 2026 Spartathlon, one of the world's toughest ultramarathons and a race steeped in history. Covering 153 miles from Athens to Sparta, the event retraces the legendary journey of the Athenian messenger Pheidippides, who is said to have run the route more than 2,500 years ago seeking help from the Spartans against the invading Persians. The modern race challenges competitors to cover the equivalent distance of almost six marathons, including a mountain crossing, within 36 hours.

Richard explains: “It’s the equivalent of running from Pocklington to just short of Edinburgh, including the ascent of a Mount Snowdon-sized peak, so to do that in the time limit is incredibly challenging. Sleep is not an option.”

Having fallen short on his first attempt in 2025, when he was forced to withdraw after 127 miles and 29 hours, Richard returned to Greece determined to finish. Battling relentless rain, mountain conditions and exhaustion, he crossed the finish line in Sparta after 35 hours and 53 minutes, just seven minutes inside the cut-off time.

Richard shares his account of his extraordinary achievement:

“On my second attempt at the race, I stand once again with 400 runners below the Acropolis waiting for the start. 'Older and wiser' I've been told. The former is undeniably true. The latter is probably open to debate.

Late September in Greece often means high temperatures but this year it's pouring with rain. And it will rain pretty much non-stop for the next 24 hours. The route takes the runners out of Athens along the Sacred Way, passes through beautiful coastal scenery before crossing the spectacular Corinth Canal to the Peloponnese. Heading on past Ancient Corinth and Ancient Nemea with their imposing temple columns still standing from the fifth century BC, it then goes up and over the 3,400-foot Mount Parthenio before reaching Sparta via another series of climbs in the last 30 miles.

Along the way I chat with runners from many different countries, including Greece, America, Japan, India and more. From time to time we are joined by stray dogs who trot happily alongside us. The first marathon passes easily enough despite the rain and big puddles on the roads, but I frequently struggle on uphills during the next one. After the Corinth Canal I seem to get a second wind. I turn on my head torch as night falls on the Nemean olive groves and vineyards. Thousands of nocturnal insects serenade the runners while unseen jackals let out unearthly howls from down in the valley, as if there were some giant rave party going on. After foolishly leaving behind my rain jacket during a temporary lull in the rain, I find myself caught in a fresh downpour and wearing DIY protection made from a large bin bag, running some 20 miles in this up to the mountain base where I can change into regular rain gear.

Starting up the rocky trail to the mountain top, it's just past 5am, blowing a gale, freezing cold and raining horizontally. Pheidippides supposedly met the god Pan on the mountain, but I see no sign of him and given the weather, I can't blame him. The rain makes the steep dirt track down even more treacherous as it turns to slippery mud.

Daybreak follows an hour later and the long, hard slog of the second day begins. On the flat I find myself going slower and slower. At around midday I reach the top of a long climb where I dropped out last year. This year I am determined to push on. Of the next five miles I have no memory whatsoever. A total blackout. Was I running asleep?

Memory returns at my lowest point on the course when my legs feel like they can't move anymore and I have to start walking. I tell my wife, who has been providing support since the previous night, that I don't think I can carry on. I am at the limit of being timed out and still have 20 miles to go. She tells me to keep going. Without her support and her belief in me when I no longer believed in myself, I could never have made it. She plies me with freshly picked wild figs. These have a miraculous effect and I find the energy not only to continue but actually to speed up.

After one last climb the last 12 miles are all downhill. I know now I will make it and, after 35 hours and 53 minutes, just seven minutes inside the maximum time allowed, I come down the central avenue of Sparta high-fiving the cheering crowds along the way. I'm one of the last to finish but that's completely irrelevant.

I reach the end and the statue of the Spartan king Leonidas, he of Thermopylae and the film 300 fame, and having been helped up the four steps to the statue like all finishers I kiss his feet. Last year I had promised him I would return a finisher and I have kept my promise. In a state of ecstatic exhaustion I wonder what I have done. Even today it all seems quite unreal."

Wow, what an amazing story and thank you to Richard for sharing his experience. Completing the Spartathlon places Richard among a select group of runners who have successfully finished one of the world's most demanding endurance events. His determination to return after last year's disappointment along with his ability to complete the course within the strict 36-hour time limit despite relentless rain, mountainous terrain and extreme fatigue, makes the achievement all the more impressive. Congratulations Richard on an outstanding achievement!