Races in Funny Places: The Green 26.2 Prison Marathon (Running Laps Behind Razor Wire)

Welcome back to Races in Funny Places, the series where we dive headfirst into the quirkiest race venues on the planet. For our next stop, we’re leaving the salt mines and bomb shelters behind and heading straight for the clink, well, the former clink. Say hello to the Green 26.2, a marathon that takes place inside the now-defunct Dorchester Prison, a Victorian-era facility in Dorset that’s been repurposed for everything from ghost tours to comedy nights. This time, it’s a racecourse.

Yes, you heard that right: a full marathon inside a prison. And no, this isn’t some elaborate form of punishment. Let’s take a tour through the twists, turns, and cellblocks of what might be the most claustrophobic 26.2 miles you’ll ever run.

The Venue: From Solitary to Stamina

Dorchester Prison, closed since 2013, has seen its fair share of life (and death). It’s an imposing red-brick structure with labyrinthine corridors, creaky staircases, and a foreboding sense that you’re never quite alone, even when you are. But rather than housing prisoners, the cells now echo with the footfalls of runners taking on one of Sussex Trail Events’ boldest creations yet.

For years, the Green 26.2 was held in Shepton Mallet Prison, but this year, the race found a new home in Dorchester. Here’s the twist: instead of the wide-open roads or scenic countryside marathons you might be used to, runners tackle 55 laps over four floors, and across the prison courtyards. That’s right — this is less "prison break" and more "prison hamster wheel." The course loops endlessly through corridors, up and down staircases, and past the eerie remnants of a once-bustling jail, with a few laps through the courtyards to break up the monotony.

And just to up the ante, there are two races: one in broad daylight (well, as broad as it gets inside a prison), and one after dark. Because running a marathon isn’t hard enough without adding the possibility of seeing a ghost mid-stride.

The Race: Laps, Layers, and Lockdowns

When the race begins, runners scatter like inmates at a yard break, quickly settling into their endless loops. The course takes them past cellblocks, up grated staircases, through the prison chapel, and even out into the courtyards — because nothing says "marathon" like sweating your way past pews, pulpits, and some open air.

The confined space means runners are constantly crossing paths, creating a bizarre mix of camaraderie and confusion. “Am I in the lead?” “Have I been lapped?” “Why does this stairwell feel like déjà vu?” These are the existential questions runners face as they grind out lap after lap, all while trying not to lose count or their sanity.

And then there’s the mental challenge. Running 55 laps might sound repetitive, but add in the prison’s eerie atmosphere, and you’ve got a recipe for some serious mind games. Shadows play tricks on your eyes, every creak of the floorboards feels like a step behind you, and the sheer monotony becomes its own kind of torture. Forget the wall, here, you’re running straight into the bars.

The Halloween Vibes: Tricks and Treats

As if a prison marathon wasn’t spooky enough, the Green 26.2 typically coincides with Halloween, leaning into the location’s natural creep factor. Runners often don fancy dress, turning the prison yard into a parade of ghouls, goblins, and the occasional banana. The night race, in particular, ramps up the thrills, with dim lighting and long shadows adding to the haunted house atmosphere.

And don’t think for a second that the organisers skimp on the theme. Participation medals often feature pumpkins or prison-inspired designs, ensuring you leave with more than just bragging rights (and sore legs).

The Finish Line: A Prison Break to Remember

Crossing the finish line at the Green 26.2 is less about speed and more about survival, both physical and psychological. There’s no sweeping vista or cheering crowds to greet you, just the quiet satisfaction of knowing you’ve conquered one of the most unique courses in the marathon world.

Post-race, runners emerge from the prison gates with a mix of relief and disbelief, swapping stories of close calls on the stairs and moments of existential crisis somewhere around lap 38. And as they step back into the fresh Dorset air, the real world feels a little bigger, a little brighter, and a lot less brick-walled.

Post-Race Reflections: Beyond the Bars

Whether you’re a veteran marathoner or someone who just wanted an excuse to tell people you ran a race in prison, the Green 26.2 delivers an experience like no other. It’s not the fastest marathon you’ll ever run, and it’s certainly not the easiest, but it might just be the most memorable.

And for those who missed this year’s event, don’t worry, the organisers are already dreaming up their next quirky venue. An underground river? A disused roundabout? A racecourse inside a working lighthouse? Whatever comes next, one thing’s for sure: it’ll be weird, wonderful, and worth every step.

So grab those runners, sharpen your sense of humour, and prepare for the unexpected. The Green 26.2 proves that when it comes to marathons, the sky, or in this case, the ceiling is the limit.