Slow Marathon
Slow Marathon is a 42-kilometre walk in the spirit of both endurance and expression—a collective, poetic act rooted in the ancient tradition of carrying messages on foot. It celebrates human pace over competition, inviting artists, communities, and strangers to become fellow travellers. Together, they move through landscapes shaped by beauty, memory, and political tension—reading the land as they go. Along the way, friendships form, stories surface, and walking becomes a shared language. Without a finish line to conquer, there is only the quiet unfolding of connection, one step at a time.
Seven Slow Marathons have been organised around or leading to Huntly. Starting with Mihret Kebede’s long-distance communal walk linking with Ethiopian walkers through a shoe-lace exchange, they were always connected to a socio-political theme such as Energy with Andrea Geile or Lost Transport lines with Stuart MacAdam.
In 2018 I organised a the Walking without Walls Slow Marathon with May Murad, an artist who never could come to our place. Teamed up with Huntly based artist Rachel Ashton we prepared through whatsapp and other digital connections. Then ran 2 parallel walks, one in Gaza and one in Huntly.
7 Senses Slow Marathon organised in 2025 followed the historic Rennstieg trail from Hildesheim to Winzenburg, organised in collaboration with local artists and other makers. Along the route, sensory stations inspired by the seven senses invited walkers to pause, reflect, and engage—turning the landscape into a space of perception and exchange. More here.
In 2020, due to the pandemic, we were not able to hold a Slow Marathon. Instead we organised Under one Sky, a world-wide walk, where people signed up to the Deveron Projects website, trying to do at least one marathon. In total we managed to walk once across the globe.
Postcards from the shifting Shore. In the run up to COP 21 Jaak Coetzer and I organised a walk from our respective shores on either side of the globe, amounting to a Slow Marathon. At the Cape of Good Hope and the Firth of Forth we poured water with our children to be carried to each other’s places by ocean currents.