Last weekend I had the absolute honour of cheering on my mate as she ran the grueling 26.2 miles of the Brighton Marathon.  Having already watched this beautiful woman (and two other gorgeous friends) run a 5k for Cancer Research early last year, I was some way aware of the ebullient emotions these kinds of events can arouse.  But nothing could have prepared me for how moved and utterly humbled I would be cheering on the side-lines of the 2015 Brighton Marathon.

The setting could not have been better; Brighton’s shoreline was awash with sunny rays, a gentle breeze whipped pinwheels into a colourful frenzy, and the sea was calm as if in anticipation of the events to come.  Throngs of people had turned out and were lining the streets sporting homemade banners and a rainbow of charity t-shirts, and those weird plastic blow-up banger things.  The world and its dog had come out to show their support and the atmosphere was electric.

Our NSPCC bangers and supporters at the finish line

Throughout the day we trooped up and down the course seeking out key check points to cheer on our girl.  The love and support that people were showing to their fellow runners and spectators was actually quite overwhelming, and I found myself welling up and fighting back tears all too often (thank God for over-sized sun glasses).   Many runners had their names printed on their shirts and it was a lot of run to shout out a random ‘Come on *insert name*, keep going lad/girl’, to see a heartened smile play across their face as they heard their name called out amongst the crowd.  Whether people had a friend or relative in the race it was unclear, as after a while everyone was kind of cheering for everyone.  This was just one of the many ways everyone seemed to come together.

Maybe I’ve lived in London too long and this is what the rest of the world is actually like, but there was an incredible sense of community that day.  The camaraderie between the supporters was palpable: everyone was interacting, helping each other find the next check point; there was no pushing or heaving, we all just operated as one giant gentle mass – helped along by the excellent organisation of the event and the friendly stewards, of course.

Nearly there…

And the camaraderie didn’t stop at the supporters.  We were lucky enough to find a spot on the stands just a little way off from the finish line, so it became our moral obligation to give every runner that last push as they made their final frazzled bounds towards the finish.  It was a pretty inspiring sight to see men and women, young and old, limp, sprint or crawl over the line 26.2 epic miles later.  I was particularly overcome when two lads crossed the line literally carrying a chap between them, sacrificing their own times and months of training to help a fellow runner make it to the end.  I know this is just getting downright gushy now, but it was an honour to have been there to give everyone their last few croaky cheers.

Another special highlight was witnessing the Cancer Research shoe cross the line in a Guinness World Record breaking time of 4hrs 17mins.  We had met the shoe at the Marathon Expo the day before and were so proud of the little guy, not only for making it round in one piece but for smashing the world record for running a marathon in a shoe!

Sometimes we can have a very negative outlook on our own species, with newspaper headlines constantly spelling out war, crime and corruption.  Yet here on Brighton beach front was a little world brimming with joy and support.  Who knew that 26.2 miles could restore my faith in humanity?

All in all it was a pretty spectacular experience; I was humbled by the spectators and inspired by the runners.  And who knows, maybe one day I’ll don my trainers, grease up and run the damn thing myself.

Let’s try a 5k first, eh?

Check out the Brighton Marathon instagram for some amazing snaps of the day.