Fixing a broken treadmill – Estleys M600+ Portable & Foldable Treadmill

Slightly off topic but hoping this may well help someone in future.

I saw a treadmill being sold cheap locally. Had little use but had developed an error and refused to work. There was nobody else interested so I stepped in and paid £50 for a nearly new Estleys M600+ treadmill.

Link here for sale!

These retail at £450-£600 new so I figured it was a worth a punt and at worse I could probably sell the working bits and recoup the cost.

Other option would be to strip the mechanicals off and make an unpowered, manual unit, possibly for use at my desk.

When I picked it up I was impressed by the unit. It’s well made, certainly light compared to a gym quality one but crucially does fold flat enough to slide under a bed or sofa. It runs up to 8mph so is fast enough for most runners. It’s an ideal lockdown tool!

First Step –

Turn it on. All lights up but as per the advert has ‘Err’ on the screen and makes a warning beep. Not the most helpful error code. No pressing of buttons will get it to do anything or show a better code. Manual suggests the Err code is a safety key issue.

Next page also suggests a safety key issue. It’s a magnetic key so I tried swapping it in and out, and replacing with a stronger magnet from the fridge. No change. So it could be a ‘change computer screen/display monitor’. Let’s hope not as probably an expensive part.

I took the cover off the motor area. There isn’t too much to these units so a limited number of things that can be wrong. Visually it all looks good and a diode on the main board lights up so it’s getting power at least.

NOTE – I’m playing with the unit open and at times live. There is 240V power there. It could make you jump. Don’t be an idiot with this and minimise any danger. Mine was connected via an RCD device to trip in event of any issues.

Motor Test

Starting with the basics, is the motor goosed?

Note – the motor on all treadmills is a DC unit (direct current – like a battery) not an AC (alternating current – like the mains power) so you can’t just wire the motor directly into your 240V supply as you’ll fry it.

The benefit of being DC is you can more safely test and almost any battery will make it move a little to test.

The video below shows how to do it using a small 12V battery. Other videos show using a tiny 9V battery from a smoke alarm.

I tested mine with a 12V car battery charger – pulled the motor cables from the main board and connected directly to the charger, then turned on (making sure no risk of short circuits or bare wires touching anything).

It had enough power to ‘flick’ the motor but not turn the belt. If I gave the belt a helpful push it then had enough to keep it moving. So motor was good.

Note – the polarity of the battery you use will affect the direction the motor spins, so don’t be surprised if it runs backwards, just make sure you connect the cables back to the main board in the correct polarity, likely terminals are marked “+” for the red/brown cable and “-“ for the black/blue wire.

If your motor won’t turn at all then you can try disconnecting the drive belt from the treadmill belt to reduce resistance and try again. If it still won’t it may well be faulty and there’s various checks you can make with a multimeter to measure winding resistance.

Main Board –

Not a lot to test on this for the home DIYer. With the unit turned off and unplugged you can make some basic checks.

  • Are the power cables connected from the mains socket?
  • Are there any inline fuses that could have blown (most don’t have them and rely on the plug top fuse)?
  • Are the cables to the motor connected?
  • Is the multiway plug to the controls and the display connected?
  • Do any wires look frayed or broken?
  • Any obvious discolouration from an overheating component on the board?

These boards are pretty specific to each make and model of treadmill so unless you happen to have a working identical treadmill to hand to swap the board over this is little else you can do to test.

Mine all looked good and as said above, it had a reassuring light on so was getting power. Of course the light could have meant an error, I had no way of knowing.

Cabling to controls and display –

Given everything in the base looked good, I opened up the rear of the display and control. This is connected by a small 5-way cable with a multiplug. They’re not especially well made so inspect the end of the cable where it connects to the main board in the base and the other where it connects to the control board. Given this is a treadmill that is often packed up and folded the cabling and joints are at risk of becoming trapped or kinking and breaking. I disconnected both ends and did a basic continuity test the length of the cable ensuring pin 1 on one end was connected to pin 1 on the other. If they’re all OK then you can repeat to ensure pin 1 is not connected to pin 2,3,4 or 5 indicating a likely split in the lead somewhere and cross linking. Mine all tested fine and cable had no visual faults.

Control Board & Buttons –

Once tested everything else so fault is likely in the control board, display or buttons. This is where people are prone to spilling drinks or sweating over the unit so did a quick check for any discolouration, suspicious stains or similar that might indicate a short. All looks good.

It’s worth noting on the M600+ the flip up screen plugs into the control board and has the buzzer inside to make the beep so without it connected you won’t know if the warning beep is still present.

There isn’t much else to check on this unit. The screen was lighting up and making the beeps so likely working despite the warning in the manual. The buttons each made a further warning beep is you pressed them so evidently worked and since they’re connected to the screen via the control board you can assume that is working.

Safety Key –

The only item left to check is the safety key device again.

There are two types, one uses a magnet as part of the key and if you lose it can be replaced with any magnet to form the circuit and make the machine usable, or you can buy replacements off eBay for as little as £5.

Others have an insertion key, a small piece of metal on a plastic holder that is inserted and completes the circuit to make the machine operate. These tend to be on higher end machines and are a bit more difficult to replace. Your manufacturer should sell them so check directly.

The M600+ has a magnetic key and I’d tried several other magnets to get it to work as a first check with no luck. The unit has a small safety circuit board with a basic reed switch activated by the magnet, located at the front of the machine and wired to the main control board with a simple two cable lead. It forms a loop in normal operation, completing a circuit from the control board, out to the safety board and back. Any break in this loop either from a missing key or a damaged cable etc would break the circuit and stop the machine.

Safety switch board with 2-pin connector

Easiest way to test is to disconnect the cable from the safety switch board and link across the two terminals to complete the loop. This remove the key and the safety board as issues.

Success – the machine when powered up beeped, but just the once to indicate it was on, and was ready to go. It ran up nicely to the max speed of 8mph.

So the issue is either the safety key or the safety board. The cable to it has been linked out at the board end so that’s been proven to be OK.

If you were happy to body it, you could just leave the cable linked out so it always runs, but you’d have no safety switch for emergency.

Time to investigate further.

First check is to connect a continuity meter on the two terminals of the board. It’s as simple as a circuit can get. When a magnet comes close to the unit it closes and completes the circuit. Or it should.

No matter how close I got the magnet I could not get a circuit from the pin connectors around and back.

I tested with the meter probes on the pins of the reed switch itself (you can see them in the photo two above) and success! The reed switch opened and closed as expected. So the fault is either on the board itself or the joints to the connector.

Some inspection showed a minor surface wear in the PCB track that was deep enough to prevent a current flow. How this happened inside a machine I don’t know since it allegedly did work originally. I rubbed the area down and ran some solder over the gap to close it and reassembled. Sadly I didn’t get a photo but appeared like below:

For advice on how to repair then check HERE

Treadmill now works perfectly and runs up well, safety key works exactly as it should.

Cockbain Events Track 100 – Did Not Finish. Not unexpectedly.

The Fast & The Furious – and that was just the pre-race Taco Bell

I entered the Track 100 on a whim a number of months back. It was evident we were going to be getting precious few races in for 2020 and at 35 miles my only ultra, the Shires & Spires, was whilst a great day out, not really worthy of the title of ‘my longest run of 2020’ given I’d run at least a 100 miler for the last three or four years. The Track 100 was local, it was flat, it was likely fast and crucially looked like it might go ahead. I entered figuring if I changed my mind the entry was transferable (a very fair policy from the race organiser Mark Cockbain) without lengthy forms or arbitrary transfer fees.

Then summer finished, Autumn arrived and far earlier than expected it was race time. My plans of building on summer mileage, and in particular the 540 mile month I ran as part of Mark Cockbain’s Accumulator challenge in May, had fizzled out through some minor and varied niggles that never allowed me much than a 2 week block of happy running. Some weeks the nearest I got to training were building flat packed furniture and taking stuff down the tip as we got stuck into some DIY projects.

I was hideously undertrained for a 100 miler and had missed the transfer window so resolved to treat it as a long training run. Part of me hoped that a good few years of ultras would have built some residual ability into my legs and I’d do better than I expected, finish and have a good day. A tiny part of me wondered if months of rest and low mileage would be the secret ingredient to an effortless 100 mile personal best. The realistic part of me was wondering what was a good distance to drop. It’s not the ideal mental approach to a race.

In the last few days before the race I also learnt that for obvious safety reasons there were no headphones allowed. For Covid reasons we would also be required to keep respectfully distanced. So it would just be the sound of our feet, some fleeting conversations and our own internal monolog. If you’re in top form, and strong mentally this would not be a huge issue. If you’re already wondering at what point you would drop, remembering you’ve barely run for the last two weeks, and that your recurring knee issue made 35 miles feel hard work a couple of months earlier, this is not ideal.  My mileage the previous week had been a heady 2. Yes 2. The bare minimum number of miles necessary to use the plural. It had been run with the boy as he started to take up running. It had been great to share the joy of the sport I love but was not even enough to stem the decline of my fitness.

Driving to the track on Saturday morning I was reminded of a mate from Uni who rather than study for exams would prepare himself mentally by going for a run and then cramming in a few brief minutes of text books with the inevitable resultant grades. Conversely rather than run, I’d spend much of the previous few months either talking about running whilst recording podcasts, or writing about running whilst finishing off the manuscript of my second book and hoping that I was getting fitter by some form of mental osmosis. A similar level of success beckoned.

For Covid reasons the event required runners to set up their own mini aid station at the side of the track and store their gear and food. It seemed ideal that you would be able to access your food every 400 metres rather than rely on sporadically placed aid stations with a mystery buffet of food that may not cater for everyone’s vegetarian, vegan, glutton, wheat or other food issue, real or imagined. The downside was you had to pack exactly what you needed. Whilst Mark had a basic aid table and water available to supplement there were to be no petrol stations or pubs to call in and top up supplies with at mile 37. I arrived, dumped my chair and box at the side and collect my bib from Karen, in charge of the registration whilst her better half Matt handed out the chips for Timing Monkey. Karen had also been a key figure at my first (and only) track marathon a number of years previously so it seemed fitting she’d be there.

After an amusing race brief by Mark (“Obviously we have safeguards in place as we’ve all got Covid. Hang on, I don’t mean we’ve got it, but it does exist. I do not have Covid!”) we milled about and I ambled to the rear intent on starting sensibly and steady. 

I’d been debating whether to use my Garmin for the race as they are notoriously inaccurate on a track and Timing Monkey website would give us lap splits throughout and be accessible by their web page or depending on how much you wanted to anger them, updated verbally on request. Ultimately I figured a watch would at least give me a gauge of how fast I was going and stop me doing anything stupid.

I borrowed this photo off someone. Don’t know who, sorry!

I made a pros and cons list as I often do at these times.

Pros – 

  • This would be my 7th go at 100 mile or greater and I had never failed in an attempt yet, even the arduous Lakeland 100.
  • I managed to finish the GUCR145 event, nearly 50% further and was even wearing the hoody to remind myself (and others) that I could once run.
  • I’ve only ever DNFd a race once, and that was through a knee issue so severe I couldn’t walk to the start line but tried anyway.
  • Any distance achieved today would be a decent long run.
  • I’d managed to secure a pair of the discontinued Adidas Supernova, my shoe of choice for many years, and had these strapped on and ready.
  • The surface would be flat and smooth – no tripping over roots or sudden inclines to tweak my niggles
  • My mileage for the last few months had been so low I was the most rested I had ever been. Probably since birth.
  • I’m never fast at ultras but I’m pretty good at sucking it up and pushing on.

Cons –

  • It was a track.
  • 400+ laps of a track.
  • I would see everything 400 times…..
  • I hadn’t run over 35 miles since July. July 2019 at the Lakeland 100. That seemed a long time ago.
  • I wasn’t sure I had packed enough food.
  • It was forecast to rain. I don’t like running in the rain.
  • As I’d packed the night before I couldn’t find my decent taped seam rain jacket, just a couple of cheaper ‘shower proof’ jackets.
  • No headphones, no podcasts, no zoning out.
  • No shelter. No trees. No inviting church hall every 10 miles.
  • My knee was still not fully back to normal and a couple of times a day would remind me that the physio exercises only work if you actually do them.
  • I’d had Taco Bell for dinner and my stomach was suggesting this may not be ideal.
  • I was driving so I couldn’t even get inebriated to dull the senses like I had on GUCR145.
  • I’d had the sort of work issues in the prior couple of days that make you want to run until you puke, not pace at a steady zen-like Buddhist level of self-control.

Mark started the race off and we jogged into the first corner. My knee felt amazing. My new shoes felt amazing. The track felt amazing. Running was actually amazing.

Have you seen the movie ‘Talladega Nights’ where Ricky Bobby, a Nascar racer often shouts “I want to go fast”? Yeah that was me. So I did. Passing a few runners it felt great to be moving like I used to be able to. I closed the gap and ‘won’ the first lap, much to the admonishment of Karen. It all felt so effortless on the smooth track.

The race instructions allowed for faster runners to keep to the inside so it was easier to keep running at this pace than slow and deal with lane changes so I just kept it up and clocked a sub 7 minute first mile. Perfect pacing if I was going for a sub12 hour 100 miler and see me close to the 100 mile track world record pace set by Zach Bitter. Even by my standards this is ‘ambitious’ pacing.

I did reign myself in. A little. 

5k came in 23m40s, I was leading everyone by 2 minutes. No need to stop yet, I’ll get something to drink later, just glide around.

10k came in 46m49s, I was leading everyone by 4 minutes. Maybe I should grab a water but it had been so long since I had a decent run where it all felt effortless that I didn’t want it to end.

At 8 miles my stomach lurched. 

At 9 miles it happened again and I felt bloated and pained. Something was coming.

At 10 miles I dived for the portaloo and the Taco Bell made a sudden and violent reappearance. Of the few running skills I have, a cast-iron stomach is one of them. A mid-run poop stop is something I’ve only done once, at mile 75 of the Lakeland 100. I have never needed to stop at mile 10. 

I emerged from the toilet feeling clammy but lighter, grabbed some drink and a protein bar (yes I’d washed my hands) and mentally told myself this was a one off and I shouldn’t draw parallels between Lakeland 100, my worst race performance and this one today. 

It sort of worked for a bit. I took a couple of walk breaks and chatted to a few people. The Half Marathon came in 1h47m12 even with the pit stop and breaks.

I was still leading everyone by 3 minutes but the tide (along with the Taco Bell) had already turned. My knee was complaining a little and the quad above was introducing itself to the mix. It all started to feel a bit stiff and awkward on one leg. Not painful and certainly something you’d run through for the final section of an ultra.

I was on course for 20 miles in 3 hours, to give a marathon of just over 4 hours which is what I typically do for the first 25/26 of a 100 miler. Eventually that passed in a little over 3 hours. Anyone looking to do the whole event had another 22 hours to go. Mentally I wasn’t including myself in that group.

The rain came in earlier than predicted and we all got a bit wet and a bit cold. I debated getting a rain coat but knowing both of mine was useless I left them in the box.

At this point I realised my biggest issue was boredom. Could I really handle another 80 miles of this? Or even another 20? I wasn’t panting for breath just yawning.

I resolved to push on for the marathon, probably the 50 miles and then make a decision.

Boredom led me to walk a bit more.

The face of sheer commitment.

I had a banana and contemplated the small fixing holes on the infield of the track where they bolt down the metal guard rail that denotes the inside of lane 1 and wondered what dictated whether these were or weren’t in place on any given day. Did 400 metre events have them and not 100 milers? Are they labelled to ensure they go back in the right place? Why take them off and risk losing them? Were they taken off for the winter to prevent corrosion? That wouldn’t be a problem if they were aluminium. When I’d seen them at the Milton Keynes athletic track they looking aluminium. They probably were aluminium as that would make lifting easier from a manual handling aspect. This is the level of monotony my mind was at already. I won’t bore you with my thoughts on adjustable height hurdles and possible improvements I was considering nor whether I judged the track to have adequate fall and drainage for heavy rain.

The timing set up beeped as I ambled over it, tucking into some sweets. That beep was the nearest I’d had to music or entertainment for some hours. It wasn’t hugely melodic.

My walk break extended as I couldn’t be bothered to run. At a normal ultra you run until a fixed point, or the next aid station, maybe just until you reach an incline. There was none of that. No reason to run and no reason to walk. Given my pace was dropping and my fitness was well off was there even a reason to be here? I was unlikely to secure a PB for any distance from here until the 100 mile finish. Did I want to spend the rest of the day in boredom with no real goal?

I’ve learnt not to make snap decisions so resolved to complete the marathon distance. At 23 miles I planned to run 3 decent miles, get the marathon in just over 4hrs, and have a break before I made any rash decision.

Even that didn’t work and I walked a lot. Occasionally breaking into weaving sections of running where I veered across the lanes like a Formula 1 car keeping it’s tyres warm except I was trying to keep my brain in the game. Grabbing my phone I checked the timing system and ambled in the official marathon distance and sat down.

This. For 25 hours.

The marathon had taken me 4h51m09s. The leader at that time, James Parsons passed the distance in 3h42m41s. So a mere hour and a bit ahead, all made up in the last 13 miles.

I tucked into a Greggs sausage roll and poured a coffee. This was my first big aid stop and I was going to do it like a Centurion event. Maybe I could visualise the four out and back legs of the Autumn 100? I’d done Little Wittenham and back. Next would be Swyncombe Farm on the Ridgeway, a beautiful leg with some picturesque views. Of course that would leave the awful Chain Hill and the depressing Reading legs. Maybe this wasn’t the best visualisation after all.

I’ll just eat this and go run another marathon. Or three. Maybe.

I watched the runners go past and most looked very ‘in the zone’, pounding away in pursuit of everything from a Spartathlon Qualifier, to a 100 mile PB or even a world record attempt. I was in the ‘I fancy going home zone’.

What tipped me over the edge was a runner who’d been sat at the side finally stand up, grab their box and walk off in the light sprinkle of rain that indicated an approaching storm. I realised I was more envious of them going home than I was of those on the track.  

Decision made. 

I jogged over the mat one last time, dropped my chip in the reject bucket and thanked Mark, Karen and Matt for the event. It was great it just wasn’t for me on this day.

I went home, had a shower and spent the evening with the family in front of the fire. The storm raged intermittently throughout the night and over half the field dropped all told, including many more capable runners than me. I felt no remorse as it wasn’t my day. It isn’t even my year based on my largely lacklustre performance and injury woes.

DNF, in the car going home!

This all sounds depressing doesn’t it? It’s a reflection on me not Mark or the rest of the team. The event was handled completely safely and professionally. It is ideal for first timers wanting to get 100 done in a safe environment, or anyone in good form looking to hit a time goal. For me, lacking in fitness, nursing niggles and with no huge pressing desire to notch off my 7th 100 mile finish it just wasn’t quite right. That being said, I’m already wondering if I should train properly for another go….

It’s worth noting the eventual winner Mike Bisson was 23 minutes behind the race leader at marathon distance and the gap stayed in the 20-30 minute range up until 100km (62mile) where after he activated his turbo boost to close the gap and eventually finish 35 minutes ahead. Taking an hour out of the leader in the final 38 miles and running 100 miles in 15h19m is quite frankly ridiculous. He was nowhere near world record pace for the first mile like I was though so it’s clear for everyone to see who did better. It was him obviously.

If you want to hear his story check out the podcast –

Winner, winner, chicken dinner!

Money for metal – selling my London Marathon 2020 medal & top

I’ve run quite a few races.

I can still remember the thrill of getting my first ever medal, for the Bupa London 10k back in 2011. That combined with wearing a race bib like a ‘proper runner’ made me feel immense pride. Being awful at sports and having attended school before the ‘everyone gets recognition’ approach they have now it was the first tangible item I’d earned for my physical performance. I was holding something my podgy and uncoordinated body had sweated and worked for. It was awesome.

I went home and hung up the medal over my door handle and proudly framed the bib.

As my interest in running grew I went through a variety of medal racks as my collection expanded. From my first marathon I had a secret desire to join the 100 Marathon Club but didn’t dare look to see what I needed to do (for fear of admitting my silly goal) so I neatly filed my race bibs along with a print out of the results in case it was ever needed (for anyone wondering, no it’s not, they just need a spreadsheet with the races on).

Over the years I’ve stuck to this anally retentive approach, with every medal and bib filed by chronological date, sub-divided by distance. Ask to see the medal from the Brighton marathon and I know I ran it in 2013, just after a local marathon by Enigma Running and before London, so there it is, nestling on the rack in the correct place. The bib will be in a folder in the same place, with my finishers cert as well.

If it’s a 10k you’re after then that’s a separate folder and a separate rack as I’ve outgrown the marathon one. Keeping the bib and medal was everything to me as I plugged away at 100 marathons.

Fast forward to this year and I’m on something like 140 marathons and ultras. It’s probably quite telling I don’t know the definite number any more. It’s not that I don’t love running, but the accumulation of lines on spreadsheets, bibs in folders and medals on racks is now less relevant.

With the issues of 2020 there haven’t been many medals but I’ve still struggled to muster the enthusiasm to hang them up. I’ve enjoyed every race (well except Watford Half where I fell apart and got overtaken by every runner I know) but the bibs and medals were in a pile on the floor awaiting attention. It was only this week whilst patiently waiting for my virtual London Marathon pack to arrive that I mustered the energy to hang the marathon and ultra medals from this year (shorter stuff still on the floor):

  • Milton Keynes reimagined marathon – first time running with an app to direct you on the course and continued my ever-present streak at the event
  • Shires & Spires – my mate Maff’s first ultra where he fell apart and we
    laughed at him
  • An Enigma marathon – my mate Neil’s 100th marathon
  • The Enigma marathon I ran on the date of the London Marathon in biblical rain, to earn my virtual London Marathon medal.

All of these are significant in their own way and it’s the memories I want to keep, not the lump of mass produced metal that comes with it.

Finally nearly three weeks after running the virtual London, my finishers pack hit the door mat. I opened it and felt largely nonplussed. The t-shirt looked decent quality but the design was pretty horrid and last time I checked I had over 100 running tops (I stopped counting at 100 as it seemed too excessive to admit). I had a top I wouldn’t wear and a medal I wasn’t sure what to do with as I already had one for the marathon I ran that day.

Remembering that there is often a market for London Marathon stuff I checked eBay and was shocked.

Some sellers were listing at as much as £600, although the average sale price seemed to be around the £80-£100 price. For a finishers pack from a race that cost £20 to enter (or £25 if you were international and needed it posted abroad). True it sold out, but took several weeks and anyone could have entered, opened the app, ridden the distance on a bike or horse if they so wished and claimed the finishers pack.


So after an afternoon of pondering I went for it. Added the race bibs for extra attraction and stuck the lot on eBay, starting at £30 with a buy it now of £80.

Listed at 7:34pm.

Sold for £80 plus the postage at 7:51pm.


Maybe I undercharged? There were still auctions up running far lower, so maybe I hit the sweet spot of a buy it now just low enough to entice people who didn’t want to wait on an auction finishing.

Who buys medals?

Yeah I never really knew either. I guess for an event like London, a full set of finishers medals from every year would be a pretty neat display piece on your wall. If you lost your medal you might want a replacement but so close to the event sending them out I’d have been tempted to contact the organisers and claim it was lost in the post rather than pay £80 for one. Other than that I was at a loss.

So I asked the buyer.

Lets call him Bob just in case he wants anonymity. He was quick to respond and advised he had a charity spot for London (the April ‘real’ one) but due to admin problems between the organisers and the charity he didn’t get a place in the October virtual and it was presumably sold out before he could enter directly. Having heard some issues from previous years this is understandable. Charities aren’t always on top of these things on a normal year, never mind a Covid year with completely different key dates and procedures.

Bob decided to run the marathon distance on the 4th October (the date of the virtual one) anyway to raise money for charity and wanted to treat himself to the medal as it was his first marathon. We exchanged a few messages about how hard running your first one on your own would have been and he recounted how his wife and kids came out at intervals to support on his first go at the distance. He’s since got a spot for London 2022 so intends to run at least one more.

Did he sound genuine? Completely.

Could he be a trader looking to buy it and sell on? Could be. Although after paying £83 his margin would be relatively small unless he wanted to chance his arm at the £600 Buy-It-Now end which I hope NOBODY pays.

Are you sad you sold your medal? Nope.

Do you feel bad about the price? A bit. When it was selling to a faceless oddity who wanted to buy a medal for a race they didn’t do just for bragging rights it was a fun social experiment. Now I’ve put a name (not actually Bob) to the buyer and learnt he was running for charity it feels unsettling.

What are you going to do? Several things. I popped a signed copy of “Run Like Duck” in there to hopefully motivate him to keep running (or at least be used for kindling if the winter is cold) and I’ve asked for his Just Giving page.

More metal more cash?

Out of interest I did a quick eBay historical search for some of my other medals.

  • London Marathon 2012 – often unsold around the £5-£10 range but some have sold at £45
  • London Marathon 2013 – similar to above, you might get £3-£4, you could get lucky with a Buy It Now around £45
  • London Marathon 2015 – less for sale, and lots at £70 unsold. A couple sold around the £25 range
  • Chicago Marathon 2019 – None in UK but some in USA going for equivalent of £50 if you could be bothered with international postage

So clearly there is a market out there but it pays to make your mind up and sell quickly for the best return. You might well cover your entry cost, you might even raise enough for the next couple of races and I guess getting something you don’t want into the hands of someone who does is ultimately a fair exchange.