This article is part of a partnership with the McKinney Games. I’ve been sponsored a race entry to run this race and review it honestly.
October 4th. Loops. Downroyal Racecourse & the Maze. Possible envelope-based riches?
There was a time and I say this with no shame, when I scoffed at the idea of 20 mile races.
Cash grabs. Some lad in an expo tent trying to convince you that three quarters of a marathon was a legitimate distance and not just a dressed up long run with a number pinned to your top.
That was the early 2010s. The era of race series medals that magnetically clipped together and half zips you’d never wear again. I rolled my eyes at the whole idea. “It’s just a training run you’re paying for.” I told myself. And I stood by that. Until now. Because now I’m doing one. Willingly.
Plot Twist: I’m Training for a Marathon Properly-ish this Time
I’m training for Dublin Marathon 2025, and brace yourself, I’m actually trying this time. I’m not running on vibes. I’m not smoking 20 a day and pretending treadmill miles count double. I’m running structured long runs, doing most of them sober, and aiming for that mythical sub 4 hour finish.
And that’s where the McKinney 20 Mile comes in. It takes place on October 4th, exactly the point in marathon training where your legs are begging for a reprieve from all your torture and your brain is whispering “just do 14 and call it 20.” But the reality is this: the 20 miler is the final boss before taper. It’s the one that tells you whether that final push to Merrion Square is going to feel like triumph or disaster.
The McKinney 20 is part of the wider McKinney Games, a multi distance race day that sounds like it was dreamed up in a marketing meeting somewhere between a car showroom and a Red Bull fridge. It’s run by McKinney Competitions in partnership with Champion Chip, and takes place at the Eikon Centre, just outside Lisburn. For me as a Belfast resident, that means no wild travel logistics, no overnight stays, and no Dublin Bus roulette at 6am. You just show up, run in circles near a prison, and go home. You too can enter here
A Racecourse-Prison Site Combo. And Yes, I'm Still Running It
The route itself starts on what’s called the Bog Road, north of the Eikon Centre. From there, you do three full laps around the Maze area, including Mazetown and Broomhedge, before cutting into the Downroyal Racecourse for an inner loop of the chase road (no, you won't be racing against the horses), before heading back to Mazetown to finish the loop. Once you finish those three laps you complete the 20 miles by coming back down the Bog Road, then looping around the Maze prison site to a finish line just outside the Logan Hall at the Eikon Centre. It’s not exactly the Champs Élysées, but it is quite flat, which at this point in a training cycle is all I really care about. I don’t need postcard views or that “instagram shot”. I need predictable footing, minimal climbs, and zero surprises. This isn’t the time to discover a hidden hill at mile 19. This is the time to find a groove, lock into pace, and not have a nervous breakdown.
I’ll be targeting roughly 10:05 to 10:10 pace, which is about a minute per mile slower than my goal marathon pace. The idea is to stay controlled, stay upright, and not get seduced into doing something stupid just because a lad in Vaporflys sprints tore past me at mile 3. For me at least, this won’t be a race. This will be a mental checkpoint in disguise.
The Real Reason I’m Running It? Prize Envelopes
Now here’s where McKinney have pulled off a stroke of genius. They have the usual cash prizes for the top 3 finishers of every race. But they also have a prize system that isn’t based on times. It’s based on luck. Everyone who finishes gets a mystery prize envelope, with the chance of winning something genuinely useful or completely random. And for runners like me, this is catnip.
Look, I’ve made peace with the fact that I will never be rubbing shoulders with East Africans at the front of a race. I will not be posing with a novelty oversized cheque. I will not be awkwardly shaking hands with a local councillor beside a rolled up banner of a local business. I am, and always will be, firmly in the middle to the back of the pack. The only prize I usually get is a banana and a participation medal.
But with McKinney? I have a chance. Everyone has a chance. You might walk away with £500. You might walk away with a toaster. Actually I don’t know if they’re giving away toasters, don’t quote me on the toasters. But still, I love that. For once, the playing field’s been levelled. We’ve given the lad in compression socks and the woman in a charity t-shirt an equal crack of the whip. And that, frankly, is worth the entry fee alone.
It’s Just a Long Run, But with Better Parking
So no, I’m not doing this 20 miler to prove anything. I’m not chasing a PB. I’m not in it for Instagram clout or Strava segments. I’m doing it because I want one last serious long run before Dublin that’s not on my own, close to home, on a reasonably flat route, with a fighting chance of going home with an air fryer.
And honestly? That feels like progress.
You too can join me on some long run madness. Why not do the McKinney 20 Mile too? Enter here