This year we watched our daughter run the London Marathon. And I say “watched” as if that’s all we did—but let me tell you, being a spectator takes some serious planning, stamina, and grit. You might not be running 26.2 miles, but if you’re doing it right, you’ll end the day feeling like you’ve done a marathon of your own.
If you’re thinking of supporting someone next year, here’s what we learned and what I’d absolutely do again.
Plan Your London Marathon Route in Advance (and Then Have a Plan B)
We started at mile 7 having got the tube to Greenwich. This was ideal because it was a short walk from the tube after dropping our runner off at the start (be sure to check where their start point is, and remind them it takes a while to get through the site to the start line, having dropped the bag off and had a wee etc so they need to allow about 90 minutes for that). That gave us time to grab coffee, claim a good spot and settle in before the madness began. It also meant we got to see all the wheelchair races and the elite runners come flying through as we waited. Phone signal was good here so we got a heads up from other friends who were at mile 5 at Cutty Sark that Ellie was on her way.
Which reminds me, if there are a few of you, split up. Dont be one cheerleading squad and move around together, split up and cover as much of the course as you can. There were 8 of us and we planned it so that Ellie was never more than about two miles away from the next friendly face.
Next, we went back to the tube and made our way to mile 14, and coming out of the tube we knew exactly where to head towards as the noise of supporters was deafening. From there we were able to head to mile 21 on foot too. That stretch was golden—manageable on foot, not too crowded, and gave us two good cheer points in fairly quick succession.
We tried to make it to mile 24 on the Embankment, but honestly? Never again. It was heaving, signal was non-existent, and we barely caught a glimpse through the crowds. If your runner is depending on seeing you there, make sure they’re prepared for the possibility that it just might not happen.
We ended up walking further down the road, as we also couldnt cross over to the other side of Embankment. By the time we found a gap to stand we were opposite Big Ben which was fabulous but it wasnt where Ellie was expecting us to be, and we couldnt see her so ended up missing her, and being alerted to the fact she had in fact finished by her big sister who was watching Ellie on the app from home.
Agree on Where You’ll Be (and Which Side of the Road!)
You cannot rely on phone signal. Not even a little bit. At best it’s patchy, and at worst it’s gone completely. The tracking apps? Great in theory, until everyone else in London is trying to use them too. So make a solid plan in advance.
We also had a photo of Ellie’s anticipated split times for each mile based on her usual timing for a mile. We saved this to our phone screens so at a glance we could see where we thought she would be and that allowed us to guage when she might then be coming through.
Tell your runner exactly where you’ll be—“left-hand side just past the Lucozade stand at mile 14” is better than “somewhere near Tower Bridge.” Be visible. Hold a ridiculous sign. Wear something bright. Stand on a bench if you have to. They’ll be looking for you like you’re the only face in the world.
What to Wear and Pack as a Spectator
Comfort is key. Trainers, always. You’ll walk for miles, and not just in straight lines. Take water, snacks, suncream, and layers. You’ll be out for hours, and British weather can do all four seasons before the finish line.
And don’t forget: you will be more tired than they are. I know that sounds daft, but honestly—they trained for this. You did not. We were shattered by the time we got home, slightly sunburnt, with aching legs and hoarse voices. And we wouldn’t change a thing.
Final Thoughts
Seeing someone you love run the London Marathon is one of the most emotional, electric, and inspiring things you can do. The stories you will hear from other spectators, the people you will see battling physical barriers, and emotions we can only begin to imagine is ALOT. I was emotionally wrecked for days, and physically exhausted for a week. It really is not as simple as standing around clapping. It takes real effort to cheer properly. But if you plan it right, it’s worth every step.
And when they cross that finish line? You’ll feel like you’ve won something too.