The worn-out soles of Hannah Cox’s trainers reveal a remarkable story. Repaired with strips of a car tire and coated in orange dust, they have clearly covered far more than just a single marathon course.
While many of the thousands who finished Sunday’s London Marathon may wake up barely able to climb stairs, vowing never to run again, consider this: what if you had another 26.2 miles to run tomorrow? And then another, and another, for 100 consecutive days—across India? To make it even more astonishing, until 18 months ago, Cox had never run at all.
This is the epic and emotional journey etched into those shoes.
For years, Cox had envisioned a bold route, though she hadn’t decided how to travel it. After her father’s death in 2011, the 41-year-old became deeply fascinated by her Indian heritage—particularly a 4,200km path used by the British in the 19th century to enforce a controversial salt tax during their rule over India. This barrier included the Great Hedge of India.
In the summer of 2024, when a friend asked if she was “still obsessed with that hedge,” she realized it was time to finally make the journey. She hadn’t expected him to say, “I think you should run it.” That suggestion planted a seed, and she joined a local running club in Manchester. Soon, she was running 30 minutes three times a week.
As her fitness improved, 5Ks turned into 10Ks, and she focused on back-to-back running days—essential for success in India. Challenges like “20 20 20” (running 20km each weekday for 20 days) and completing seven marathons in seven days coast-to-coast across the UK convinced Cox that “Project Salt Run” was feasible.
She assembled a support team, acquired a van, and decided to use the challenge to raise £1 million for various environmental charities.
Despite physical and practical preparation, nothing could ready her for the chaotic roads or the illnesses she would face. “Everyone tried to put me off at first—people just didn’t believe I would actually do it,” Cox says.
On 26 October last year, she set off from the Attari-Wagah border between Pakistan and India, heading toward Kolkata, just miles from where her father Deric was born. She stuck to the route, which sometimes meant running 42km along a highway—“boring as hell”—but other days took her through nature reserves, along canals, and across farmers’ fields.
She encountered cows, snakes, and goats on the road, while drivers frequently traveled on the wrong side of highways. A collision with a motorbike left a scar on her right leg. At times, she needed a police escort through regions known for regular fatal tiger attacks. The heat, dust, and smog were intense, even after spending two weeks in a heat chamber to acclimatize.
Sickness played a large role, causing her to lose more than 10kg during the challenge. One episode coincided with a surreal encounter: “It was day 24 and we met Richard Branson at the Taj Mahal,” she recalls. “He was hosting a charity cycling event. I was feeling worse and worse. The evening before, he invited me for dinner at a fancy hotel. I had one sniff of an Old Fashioned cocktail and thought, ‘Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.’ I ran to the toilets and was sick everywhere. The next day, I had to run a marathon, and five of the people who were with us…”
