Archive for June, 2013

Updated Text and Photo>> Terry Mc Kasi for exchanging my sweet washing powder!

Friday, June 28th, 2013

Hi All.

Today 3rd July I took a rest day in Lampe, just 108km from the end of this island. Happy 4th July to my American friends :) I will be thinking of you.

It would be nice to finish the island in 2 days but as its so hot and humid that my progress is very slow. Sorry for lack of updates lately as I have not only been busy but not many decent internet connections along the way.

I am now on the island of Sumbawa, my 3rd island. After Sumbawa I got two small islands Lombok 80km, say two days and Bali three or four. In Kuta Bali I plan to hook up with Mel and family who are friends and a contact given to me from pastor Stephen Littleton from Panama City. Mel has kindly taken delivery of my 37th pair of shoes of the run courtesy of John Buckley Sports in Co. Cork. Thanks John and Mel :)

Then its huge Java, home to 120 million, half of Indonesia’s population and the most populous island in the world… You can guess I am not looking forward to that all 1,000 per sq kilometre and am sure there will be more ‘ Hello Misters ‘ shouted there than anywhere else in the world! Java will take about 4 weeks to run as will my 7th and final island Samartra.

Every village has it's Ronaldo, am I jealous!

Running into Halilulik a small village I was stopped by Anton the local English language teacher. He brought me over to his place where he lived with his parents. His father was originally from Timor-Leste before moving over the border to Indonesia 25 years ago, in fact he was in the military and even fought in the war against Indonesia. That war was a bad experience to Timor-Leste even though they didn’t offer much resistance they still got a hiding from the Indonesians who even forced their language on the Timorese, which is why so many speak the language there.Never once have I experienced any animosity on either side of the border, much the reverse as many people have said to me that they are all brothers and sisters both belonging to the island of Timor.

It was very noticeable that the whole family of about eight were non smokers, a rarity here. They also talked fondly and showed me photos of an Irish priest called father Patrick Lonnergon who worked in this area for 50 years before returning to Ireland a couple of years ago to retire.

I slept well that night, once again on a floor mat. In the morning Antons brother gave me a haircut, an appalling one as you can see from the photos, said he was a barber! Anton helped me get an Indonesian sim for my mobile phone before I ran on.

Before the haircut.. Mr Ramones is responsible for what you will see in the following photos!

That day was another tough day  as it also rained a lot, so I finished very early with a miserable 24km to show for my efforts, need to step on it.

Sometimes I worry I may not keep my schedule for the finish with the Dublin City Marathon in October next year, It seems I still got so much running to do. I felt a lot better when I took out the calculator and calculated that in 504 road days, all I need is 37km a day, every day, including any rest days etc, 37km, that’s all!! 37km, I remember that number well as about three years ago when I had a lot of downtime in work I ran hard for 5 days back to back averaging 37km. I also ran the Celtic Plate 100km in Galway for a 9.35 hr training run ‘ , I know a terrible performance but it was a strict hard training run, a day I would be delighted with now!!

That savage training, nothing to an ultra runner in competition of course wrecked my season, I was shagged for weeks later and I never got back to the level I was at before. All  the masochist training had finally caught up with me and then I set out to do this run, well that’s typical of the confidence or is it arrogance or even stupidity of the ultra runner!!

I stopped early as I said when a man called Primus offered me tea, bananas and shelter from the rain.


Unfortunately he was going out that evening but told me that the ‘ Kepala Desa ‘ or village chief would take care of me. Every village has a village chief who I have been told help out poor stranded souls like myself when in need.


So I did, I stopped by Alexander’s house just a kilometre up the road. The whole of Timor island has been like one big connected up village as the furthest so far between villages has been about four or five kilometres, more often than not only two or three with a splattering of houses in between, many people standing in doorways shouting their greetings as I run by.

Alexander has a political career also which I didn’t understand, as now here on Timor the language barrier has been a huge hindrance for the first time on the run. We played a lot of music that night, ate and I went to bed early.

I can’t understand why everyone walks here with the traffic to their backs and think it’s safer. This is the only country I have seen this in. However I insist on running towards the traffic. The only thing is that Indonesian drivers tend to drive very wide on the roads, towards the middle of these narrow roads. That day I ran a welcome 40km.

My map had a turn off before Kefamenanu for Soe but the signpost was a bit unclear, so I ran straight on for a couple of minutes before I realized my mistake. Had I not made this mistake I wouldn’t have stopped at a kiosk for a drink. The lady there called out her son Canio who spoke some English and when he said it was too bad that I was running on towards Kupang that day as he and his brother Jose would like to practice their English on me. Like a shot I said that at 40km I was happy enough for the night and pretty cheekily asked if he meant it was a pity I was not staying in their family home!

So that’s what happened that night, another night on stage, doing my performance for another family that night.

Jose spoke the better English telling me how he used to live in Bali, so worked with a lot of tourists.

Indonesia has a population of some 240 million, 220 million Muslims making it the most populated Islamic state in the world. Though in this area it’s mostly Christian they seem to co-exist very well together. Due to the huge population the government has tried various ways of  encouraging birth control and if I understood Jose properly he said the government cuts off the rice subsidy to families that have more than two children.

He seemed to be pretty down saying ‘ It’s not fair as I can go to his country and it would take years for him to save up the airfare to even Singapore. $100 a month I am told is the average wage in the services industry, so my usual small donation was welcomed by this family also.

Another great day, all 45km of it. Around lunchtime I stopped to buy a packet of sweets, the package was similar to the ones I had been buying so far, a small sachet, about a saucer size. This time I thought it would be nice to try find some real tasty gummy sweets. So I grabbed a packet of ‘ lemon flavor ‘ Gave it a good squeeze, yes that’s feels like gummy lemon sweets. Delighted by my discovery I paid for it and then realized it was a sachet of washing powder, lemon flavor! So you can imagine the laugh the ten assembled people got that were giving me the usual ‘ stare out ‘

The nice owner gave me a packet of noodles which he then cooked and served me them in a bowl.

I learn my essential words by writing down how the word sounds phonetically. My favorite Indonesian word which I always say with great gusto is

‘ Terry Mc Kasi! ‘

Which sounds like an Irish Italian footballer to me, It means thank you.

‘ Sad App ‘ as it sounds means ‘ delicious. ‘

‘ Air Eh! ‘ is water, and so on I also ask English speakers to write down things like ‘ no sugar in my tea please ‘ As tea and coffee come mostly pre mixed with a huge amount of sugar which really kills the enjoyment of the drink, as in much of Latin America. This has been a bit of a pain trying to make myself understood for this particular expression, so I will work on my list.

Another 50,000 rupiahs or around 5 dollars had me staying with another nice family in Oenino. Anton and his wife Risma gave me coffee and popcorn while 17 of the neighborhoods children came in to watch television, squatting on the floor watching cartoons. We then had dinner of rice, noodles cabbage and vegetables.

In situations like this my list is repeated and repeated, however the Indonesians don’t seem to do charades very well, or perhaps I have lost my touch.

Then at last a great day, 56km, lots and lots of small villages one growing out of another as I ran. I saw my very first bicycle rider here on Timor Island in almost two weeks this morning as I ran through the busy town of Niki Niki. It seems people don’t want to ride bicycles anymore despite the poverty I am told. Almost everyone rides small 125 cc scooters or motor bikes many people riding without a helmet which I am told is against the law, yet so many , at least 60% are helmet less. The record of five on a bike has been equaled as last week I spotted a family of five including two babies tearing down the highway, I guess 6 passengers must be illegal!!

It was dark when I finished and that early evening I was stopped by a young woman called Yesti who spoke decent English. She and her friends, about six of them had a shop/restaurant. They happened to be standing outside their party hut as it seemed to be for they were drinking beer, smoking, playing music and cards. I got invited to stay the night, no donation in this sort of situation! However they talked, played the music, cards and drank till almost 3am, so I was pretty shattered the next day but still managed a 45.

In the party den

Children continue to run after me, it’s starting to get a bit scary as I can rarely out run their young fast fresh  legs. I worry about an accident for they run on both sides of the road and often in the middle in busy traffic. I also got to keep my own concentration.

Hell on the road!

I saw about six dead snakes on the road today. Also a man called Ferdinand stopped. He worked with the United Nations till he lost his job last December as the UN started downsizing their projects. His job was taking care of the boat people who tried to make their way to Australia for hopefully refugee status. Ferdinand worked with the ones that were caught and being repatriated. Tonight another home share, but I didn’t like that family as the lady just took the money and showed me my room without even making an effort at communicating. The place was a filthy dump, I can understand poverty, but not filth especially when people are sitting around watching television. Yes it was not their fault there were no windows or even a hall door, but glass, filth and stones all over the floor. They never even showed me the toilet, thank God!

Then the run into Kupang, Timor island has been run! I felt very, very strong that day, running faster even with my two kilo satchel that I had at any stage even during my supported run through Australia. I don’t know where the speed suddenly came from, long may it stay, though I don’t believe journey runs should be time trials and against the stopwatch, it’s still nice to have a shorter day!

I eventually made my way to the coast, Timor has been run. I stopped at a police station and called Ferdinand. It turned out the police station I stopped was the special forces unit, they allowed me to pose with them, nice lads.

With the Special Forces just after I finished the run across Kupang. Sorry for the haircut :(

I had dinner with Ferdinand in the market place, him telling me more about life in the UN and in Indonesia.

At the Lavalon hostel I met an incredible man from St. John’s, Newfoundland where I started out on the first foreign days of the run, and still my favorite region of the run (the USA being my favorite country)

Newfie as he likes to be called has been traveling since 4th July… 1977! An incredible story teller he had a few of us up till the wee hours of the morning listening to his countless stories about his life on the road in almost every country in the world except for a handful. The situations he got into and out of were stuff of James Bond movies.

Care free Newfie

How he was taken off a bus in a desert in a certain country and held at gunpoint while four police officers searched and discovered 1,500 dollars in his possession. He had the brass neck to talk them out of killing him and eventually the cops settled on taking a hundred dollars each. That was typical of the adventures that has followed him around the world for 36 years now.

Enough said for much of it was told in confidence as we sat there mesmerized till 3am listening to him relate one yarn after another.

He is a man of  almost no possessions for he has never owned anything, even a bicycle,camera, radio or mobile phone and is one of the happiest people I have ever met.

He has been home a few times, talking about his brothers and sisters bitching about their cars, laptops not working and being up to their eyes in debt and in the rat race.

He laughed when he said his mother told him she finally understood him when she spoke to the other family members saying

‘ You know Newfie has absolutely nothing but I think he is so happy, happier than you guys! ‘

Get this he has never even bought as much as a spoon or a dish cloth for that’s the way he wants it, to be free of possessions. Nor been in a supermarket till recently when he decided he needed to eat more fruit and veg.

Not motivated by money, just taking up the odd gardening and painting jobs, but never for more than 5 months. His most popular job was working on ships and yachts. He parties hard but is also a hard and much sought after worker when he works.

We asked him about a book, he said he has had numerous offers but wouldn’t want to waste a year of his happy life in order to write it and get rich, money also means little to him for he has never had trouble getting work. He would rather write it himself than have someone else write it but he really doesn’t care.

We also spoke about how lucky we are to be born in the western world, on the rich side of the fence in comparison to much of these poor countries. There go I but for the roll of a dice as I usually say we are so lucky.

I couldn’t help wondering about our world which is far from equal. How would a penniless Indonesian fare should he want to do what Newfie has been doing? And there are as many as 50% of the population that survive on less than $2 a day. Had Newfie been Indonesian and turned up at French houses to paint or for work on the boats of the wealthy down in the Caribbean he would have been seen as cheap labor rather than a hard worker and an equal drinking buddy.

He mentioned that as he has never paid a cent in tax in Canada (57 years old) that people like him would not have that parachute had he ever had a need for it.

An amazing man, a true inspiration. You know I almost went that way when I set out on my world cycle in 1978. I actually thought of just doing the same, one long trip, working where ever, but I was young and too homesick, I didn’t have Newfie’s courage.

I had a lovely lunch in Ferdinand’s house before going to the airport for my flight to Ende, Flores island, for there have been no ferries this last few days due to high winds.


Post to Twitter

Seven Island Hop Begins

Friday, June 14th, 2013

Crossing into Indonesia was pretty swift, about a half hour and I was away running into West Timor, Timor Island shared with Timor-Leste being the first of my seven island Indonesian hop.

The roads are better here but still tough to run on. The kids still shout their greeting, it’s constant, always with a smile, a welcome but added with the heat, humidity, hectic traffic, my tiredness, dogs etc this constant non stop chant can become so wearisome, but I am always aware it’s the first time for them to see me, so their enthusiasm is understandable.

Never the less I now have to accept the New Zealand and Australia ‘ holiday ‘ the mental break of sorts is now well and truly over. I will have little or no privacy now for about a year. I ran 37km that was about 15 inside Indonesia, just past a small town called Atapupu. It was dark and as I ran by a supermarket a lady called out to me in English, asking where I was going. It was soon decided that I would stay the night in their friends house across the road. Jon, Santy,Aditya, Usa and Nelg.

Jon.Santy,Aditya and Nelg. I slept well on the floor mat on the left.

I had a short 17km day arriving in Atambua in the rain, not being able to find the post office and then a rat ran out in front of me into a drain. Eventually I found the post office, it had just closed. I have decided to send on most of my gear to places along my route. So I needed time to sort this. As always I started running with too much in my pack. The pack will now be ditched. Now I will have the bare minimum, 2 kilos in a satchel with my bare essentials in a light weight water proof bag. So with the help of Sebastian I found a cheap place. He patiently took me around about 5 places that charge 25/30 euro, come on whats happening, this is Indonesia. Eventually I said please take me to a place that looks like shit! He did and at 10 euro it was alright, continental breakfast included though still expensive for Indonesia.

That night I packed my gear and next morning posted it off. I then had a pocket job done on my UVU running top, and though the local tailor did the job for free, except for cigarette money for some kid that you can see behind him in the photo.  However the material I provided was pretty bad, to put it mildly, Think I will have to get it redone! I also had my satchel reinforced by having material sewed onto weak pressure points as seen below.

All this and waiting for the rain to stop meant another late start for a dire 21km, Ah Michael I miss you and your great help. I sometimes wonder what it would be like for you crewing here, waiting for me to arrive and having to deal with the hordes of people around the car!


Post to Twitter

Dilly Dallying out of Dili

Friday, June 14th, 2013

Asia has begun!

I arrived in Dili the capital of Timor Leste handy enough, except for the rip off $450 fare for the 1 hour and 15 minute flight, same duration as Dublin to Paris. Stupid me had left my few dollars in my checked pack so a very nice Aussie man loaned me the $30 for my VOA or visa on arrival till I retrieved my pack, thanks mate!

So it was a short shared taxi ride to the hostel shared with an Aussie motor biker called Curt who plans on riding his 750cc bike to London, right now he has to wait two weeks for it to arrive from Darwin. I needed to apply here in Dili for my Indonesian visa, preferably a 60 day visa as mentioned before in the update.

So after pleading my case to the ambassador, then being photographed by him I was told to return the next day.

That night I was on a bus to Betano on the south coast of the island for my restart of the run, my start in Asia. A distance of 117km – so one would expect to arrive a couple of hours later. Well how about 14 hours later, almost running pace, well not exactly on these roads, battered and probably blown up in places from the war with Indonesia, never to be repaired as the former Portuguese colony is just too poor.

East Timor, or Timor-Leste as they prefer to be known as, population 1.25 million got it’s independence in 1975, immediately the country was invaded by  Indonesia. Timor-Leste which is  surrounded by Indonesia on three sides, a country in two parts for another province lies to the east   a couple of hundred kilometres away.

This was the start of an international struggle for human rights for the Timorese people. A Ballyfermot man from west Dublin was one of the campaigners at the front of the international protests. Many countries broke off diplomatic relations with the Indonesians including Australia. Later I met an Indonesian man who having won a scholarship to study in Darwin who had to return to Indonesia because of the ending of relations.

So there I was on the bus, a junker, decrepit old banger with worn out tyres, three spares when suddenly for no reason one of the spares lying on the floor of the filthy floor has a blow out, and we haven’t even started yet!

It seems everyone is smoking, no smoking ban in force here. On we chung through the mountains, stopping many times for no apparent reason, also stopping for extra diesel fills for diesel is sold out of houses in litre bottles where the home owner ilks out a living on a marginal markup. We even stop for two more punctures and another stop for what looks like a break failure. I loan them my headlight for the repair for it seems the driver was relying on the light from passenger mobile phones!

Then we stop when we see a truck which has skidded almost off the road, it looks like it is about to topple down the mountain for it is somehow resting at a very acute precarious  angle.

Eventually I made it to Betano and stopped at a cafe for breakfast.

A man called Albert and his buddies from several countries come into the restaurant, they are engineers for a shipping company which has just docked. They treat me to my first Asian road breakfast and take the departure photos for my Asian start… I am off running now, Running free as Iron Maiden would say, bound for Europe, beyond Russia to the Ukraine some 15 or 16 thousand kilometres away to the north and to the west, homeward bound. I cannot imagine what lies ahead as I run 4,000km here through the 7 islands that link Indonesia to Singapore, then 3,000km more to the Chinese border. 5,000 there and depending on my final route decision through Kazakhstan and Russia about another 4,000 there.

That first day I ran by village after village, villages full of life and smiles but sadly perhaps hope is low on their horizons. Running as I am I have a unique opportunity to get close to these people. One family stopped me for lunch of rice, beef and banana plant. Their house was battered, in poor shape but as clean as they could get it for they were proud people.

That first day, after 30 tough kilometres I made it to Ailora where I stopped at a house for water. The people gave me a bed, food and I left them a few dollars as I always do, they need it more than I do. It is always accepted with some embarrassment but I insist and can sense relief, for another weeks supply of rice, the all important staple of their diet,  in a country where the average monthly income is less than $100.

The next day I make it to Zumala, some 35 km up the road, the roads are still in a bad way, some rain and shallow flooding in places. People were shouting their greetings from village to village, just like the constant ‘ Bula ‘ in Fiji, wonderful people.

I screeched to a sudden halt when a man shouted the magic words.. ” Coffee Mister! ”

Coffee Mister!

That night I stayed in the police station in Zumala, the nice officers let me sleep on the floor in a back office.

Then I ran a few more kilometres next day, 39 grueling kilometres every single one of them over the mountains of central Timor.

People continue to call out their greetings, including ‘ Tarde, Tarde ‘ or afternoon. And the Pied Piper is alive and well in Timor-Leste!

On the road there were many animals including pigs, goats, buffaloes and cows, I even saw a cow jump over a drain ditch onto a wall, can’t say I have ever seen a cow jump before, city man that I am!

Also for a country of such immense poverty there seems to be no shortage of power lines. There were also a lot of UNWFP or United Nations World Food Program vehicles, also US Aid and Aussie Aid vehicles on the road, for the country is in dire need of help. There are no road safety signs, for such luxuries seem so low on the priority scale. Many of the international aid projects were never started, like the so called German/EU road project which the battered sign stated the project start date to be 2008 and finish date 2009, was that the time of the financial crisis that hit the western world? Did Timor-Leste suffer for this? I wondered.

So that night I stopped about 5km before Bobonaro at a school which was nearing the end of it’s construction. The nice workers made me coffee and gave me a class room to bed down in. I noted they have power tools here, rare in Latin America.

I ended up abandoning my summer sleeping bag, leaving it for the workers to fight over, I will continue to Bangkok, Thailand with just a sheet bag. Bangkok is where I have Nirvana my trusty Chariot cart awaiting my arrival in about four months time. I have a new winter bag there, so it will be over a year till I need a summer bag, so time to abandon, lighten the load and worry about that later.

Yes the going is tough, tough as the rugged road, hot and humid, On and On I ran over those undulating hills towards the Indonesian border town of Bateguade. I passed through the town of Balibo where I am told five Australian journalists were murdered, murdered because the butchers didn’t like what the journalists were reporting.

I have not seen even one product which was manufactured here, everything seems to be imported from Indonesia.

Eventually I reach the Indonesian border, about a day behind my plan, Timor-Leste being the first country I failed to run a 50km in, but hey, that’s not a problem, Timor-Leste is a problem, I love the people and it was with a heavy heart and sadness in my eyes that I ran into Indonesia, for I can run away, they cannot run, for their problems are too great.

Post to Twitter

Timor island has been run!

Friday, June 14th, 2013

Timor Island has been run!

My first of 7 Indonesian islands has been run albeit with some difficulty due to the horrendous amount of traffic. Wonderful, friendly and helpful people.

I had planned on getting the ferry to Flores island today but understand they have been cancelled this last few days due to high winds. Cant wait!

I just booked a flight for Saturday to Ende, so perhaps Saturday may be a rest day also.

I am being helped enormously by Ferdinand  a local that met me on the road a couple of days ago.

Thanks so much Ferdinand. I am staying in the Lavalon accommodation which is a kind of a backpackers.

31,495km for 727 road days – thats from memory.

Talk later if possible, Tony

PS Just been told that on the island of Java that the word ‘ Mangan ‘ means to eat, imagine that :)

Post to Twitter

In Atambua, Indonesia.

Thursday, June 6th, 2013

I see the Spot tracker didnt update so far today. I am in Atambua. It’s the first biggish town since I crossed from East Timor to Indonesia yesterday. E.T. was a wonderful country. Stayed with family and police another night. Roads brutal! Its like being back in Latin America now, crazy drivers, children following me and staring by the hordes and the constant ‘ Mister where you going ‘ about 100 times a day, no exaggeration. Sometimes I got to go into my own world and tune out for my sanity, then sometimes I engage, wonderful people.

I got a bit of business to do. So Gotta run!

Got the following message from Michael Gillan, my wonderful crew man for Australia and yes I am missing him in this very hot and humid climate! Things are going slow for me at the moment but expect to start picking up the pace.

Just over 31,200km run for about 719 road days need to confirm this.

Thanks Michael, your recovery techniques are wonderful!!

I got so much catching up to do.

Talk soon, Tony

” Hi Tony

Just got internet access at the Tennant Creek hostel and got here a few minutes ago and not read your blog yet to see how you are going

I enjoyed working with you

Will keep up with how you are going

And I think you are very professional just crap at getting going in the morning lol

How you gonna manage it without me to boil your coffee up before you start

will read ur blog now and thank you for the opportunity to work with you

Michael ”



Light Manual Muscle Relaxation



Performance through Recovery



The tested trusted oil free muscle recovery alternative


Offering a simple, uncomplicated, tested alternative muscle resuscitation method Light Manual Muscle Relaxation works
with the muscles not on them



Light Manual Muscle Relaxation uses the ‘snowshoe’ effect of spreading the load, weight and pressure of the hands and fingers so does not stimulate pain receptors or produce friction or heat-therefore it can be done ‘on demand or as often as required  

The secret is to reduce input/output required through-


  • Simplicity-easy to understand
  • Predictability-not changing information fed into the brain; all responses are automatic.
  • Consistency-conditions the muscles by repetition
  • Non invasive

    The latest in non-technical ‘cutting edge’ solutions to relieve fatigued aching legs


Michael Gillan-Long Distance Recovery Specialist


Post to Twitter

since Tony began his World Run on 25th October 2010

Please sponsor a world walk hotel night or a meal etc!You do not need a Paypal account, just a bank card! Press Paypal link below. Thank You :)

Donate to Aware

Text WORLDJOG to 50300 to donate €4.

100% of text cost goes to Aware across most network providers. Some providers apply VAT which means a minimum of €3.26 will go to Aware. Service Provider: LIKECHARITY. Helpline: 01 4433890.


About Tony

I have always considered myself to be an average runner. In school, I was even bullied for I was a sports wimp. Through hard work, dedication, perseverance, self-belief and a strong mind I succeeded in not only running around the world but breaking four ultra running world records during my competitive career. Having previously cycled around the world I didn't start running until I was almost 30. Then I had a dream of running around the world. For many reasons, I waited for over 20 years. One reason was to establish my pedigree as an endurance athlete. I started and finished my world run as the current World Record-Holder for 48 Hours Indoor Track 426 kilometres (265 miles), a record I have held since 2007. I also broke and still hold the World Record for 48 hours on a Treadmill 405 kilometres (251 miles) in 2008. When I retired from competition, more pleasing than any of my world, European or Irish records I had the respect of my fellow athletes from all over the world - in my opinion, sports greatest reward - an achievement I am most proud of. Then I finally put myself out to pasture, to live my ultimate dream to run around the world! This blog was written on the road while I struggled to find places to sleep and to recover from running an average of 43.3 kilometres or 27 miles per day for 1,165 road days. There were many nights I typed this blog on a smart phone, so fatigued my eyes closed. Many journalists and endurance athletes have referred to my world run as the most difficult endurance challenge ever attempted. During my expedition I rarely had any support vehicles, running mostly with a backpack. In the more desolate areas I pushed my gear, food and water in a cart which I called Nirvana, then I sent her on ahead to run with my backpack once again over altitudes of almost 5,000 metres in the Andes. I stayed in remote villages where many people had never seen a white person before. I literally met the most wonderful people of this world in their own backyard and share many of those amazing experiences in this blog. My run around the world took 4 years. There were no short cuts, I ran every single metre on the road while seeking out the most comprehensive route across 41 countries, 5 continents, I used 50 pair of running shoes and my final footstep of the run was exactly 50,000 kilometres, (almost 31,000 miles) I eventually finished this tongue in cheek named world jog where I started, at the finish line of my city marathon. I started my global run with the Dublin Marathon on October 25th 2010 and finished with the Dublin Marathon on October 27th 2014 at 3 05pm! Thank you for your support, I hope you can share my unique way of seeing the world, the ultimate endurance challenge! Read more...


North Pole Marathon Logo
UVU clothing
On Running
Chariot Carriers Logo
Dion Networks Logo
Dry Max Sports
John Buckley


flickr slideshow

view full size

Aware is The World Jog Charity.