Welcome to the Paris Marathon!
It’s 7:30am. Nothing, not even the north wind that hits the thighs of the first runners arriving, can ruin the ambiance of this spring morning. “April in Paris,” sings the song. The chestnut trees are in blossom and the brasseries are already open, welcoming the night owls on their way home from the nightclubs, as well as the marathon runners looking for caffeine and a little bit of warmth.It’s party time. The air is delicious with the taste of a long-awaited occasion. It’s party day and time for discovery for a number of runners arriving at the metro station to one of the best views of Paris. The Champs Elysées is blanketed with an immense sky, as only Paris knows how…
At 7:50am, the sidewalks of the most beautiful avenue in the world are already agitated with a multitude of convinced steps. Some trot to warm up and reassure themselves, others move around looking for a better place to take pictures. The impression of disorder is mistaking. Each runner knows what he or she has to do and accomplishes the planned anticipated gestures. One does not improvise 42.195km!
The entire world runs in Paris, more than one hundred nationalities. In reading the names printed on the numbers, one allows his or her imagination to wander. Amy and Alex are from Edinburgh. They have a joyful Scottish accent that is hard to understand. Next to them, Matteo and Luca, Romanian by birth and soul, try out their French, hoping to meet girls. The international dimension of the Marathon de Paris is evident. Do not forget that 40% of the participants are not French…
Time is advancing, and the biggest running group in France takes its place slowly, then with a certain amount of impatience. It’s 8:15am, only 30 minutes before the start. It’s time to put everything in order; drink a little bit of water, double check one’s chronometer, send a last text message, and verify that one’s energy gels are fixed around the waist.
The entrance to the departure area takes on all the importance of the start. From this moment on, the runners are amongst themselves, cut off from the world. Shared glances are charged with intensity and are often quite moving. Each runner has a goal, a chronometric dream. Everyone hopes to reach the end of the 42.195km, to make it to avenue Foch, to receive the finisher medal.
It’s 8:44am. The speaker announces the last few minutes to go. Thousands of faces are turned towards the horizon. It’s now the 36th edition of the Marathon de Paris. There’s the capital’s pavement. In a few seconds, it will resonate with a joyful rumor. 40,000 runners thrust themselves into the race. The party can begin…
