2,700 km — The Wild Atlantic Way

One of the longest defined coastal routes on Earth, run end-to-end, self-supported. 2,700 kilometres absorbed one footstep at a time — no shortcuts, no magic, just a repeatable daily practice executed with brutal honesty.

In August 2025, Kerry ultrarunner Sean Clifford (known to many as Seanie Runner) set out from the small village of Muff in County Donegal with a simple but almost unthinkable goal: to run the entire Wild Atlantic Way in one continuous effort.

Europe’s longest defined coastal route stretches more than 2,500 kilometres along Ireland’s wild western edge, from the tip of Inishowen to the harbour town of Kinsale in County Cork. Most people drive it in two weeks. A few cycle it. Almost no one runs it. Sean planned to cover nearly 2,700 kilometres — including the punishing out-and-backs of every major peninsula — in 27 days.

He finished in 29 days, 15 hours and 5 minutes. Along the way he climbed the equivalent of three Mount Everests: roughly 27,000 metres of elevation. What followed was not simply a long run. It was a month-long conversation between one man, the Atlantic, and the people of the west coast.

The Opening Salvo Day one delivered 103 kilometres through the windswept headlands of Donegal. The body protested early. Achilles tendons inflamed. Quads tightened. Sleep came in short, restless stretches in a van. Yet the road kept unfolding — lonely out-and-backs that forced him to retrace the same ground, endless hairpin climbs, and Atlantic storms that turned the road into a moving river of spray. In Donegal the ARD running club became his daily lifeline, pacing him through horizontal rain and providing food, company and quiet encouragement when the kilometres felt endless. Further south, the General Manager of the Westport Plaza Hotel offered a night of real rest after the exposed causeways of Achill Island — a small act of kindness that felt, in the moment, almost regal.

The Darkest Stretch Kerry nearly ended it. Around day 21 near Cahersiveen, violent illness struck — vomiting, diarrhoea, dehydration. Calves and quads felt “torn up.” Every step was “like a hammer to the legs.” For three days he forced himself onward through 50 km, then 70 km, then another 70 km while his body tried to shut down. Friends appeared with hot food and tea. Locals opened doors. The running community held the line when he could not. On day 28, with the help of Len Whelton, Sean produced one of the most remarkable single efforts of the entire journey: 101 kilometres across both the Beara Peninsula and Mizen Head, finishing at 2:30 a.m. That night of pure grit bought him the final push.

The Finish On the morning of the last day the crew woke to rain, looked at each other, and simply said, “We’re going to Kinsale.” Sean ran 96 kilometres with the energy of the first day still somehow present. Friends, strangers, cyclists and cars formed a moving honour guard. Gardaí joined the escort. The Kinsale Triathlon Club had built a gantry. More than fifty people waited at the finish. He crossed the line and cried — not from pain, but from the sheer disbelief that so many people had shown up for him. What It Was Really About Sean has always been clear about the deeper purpose. After a brutal high-court battle in 2018 that brought him to the edge of personal and financial collapse, he rebuilt his life around adventure, community and mental health. The Wild Atlantic Way run was never just about proving the impossible to the skeptics who said it could not be done. It was about showing that outdoor movement, resilience and human connection can carry a person through the darkest stretches. His own words capture it best: “People think it’s about running. But really, it’s about people. The running was just the excuse to bring us all together.”In 29 days and 15 hours, Sean Clifford ran the edge of Ireland. He also reminded everyone who followed him — or who simply stepped out onto a road beside him for a few kilometres — that the wild Atlantic is not only a place of storms and cliffs. It is a place where ordinary people, when they decide to keep going together, can demolish the impossible.