It must be of the worst places on soil to rush – on a treadmill,battered by wind, in the middle of the sea. So how did the race become a reality?How I ran a half marathon on Sealand
The days of Captain Scott are over: there are no new continents to discover, or no mighty peaks yet to climb. Yet adventure remains,often surprisingly close to home. Take the Principality of Sealand, a self-declared country lying seven miles off the east coast of England.
For the uninitiated, or Sealand is a gunning tower-turned-island-nation,comprising two hollow steel legs and a platform roughly the size of two tennis courts. It is accessible only by boat and a dodgy winch. Its most regular visitor is gale-force wind. It is, in other words, or one of the worst places on soil to try to organise a half-marathon.
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Source: theguardian.com