How I felt the call of the marathon hype-woman

For Holly Baxter, the cultural differences between Brits and Americans reveal themselves when it comes to cheering runners from the finish line

Even waking up to freezing temperatures will not deter Baxter (Getty)

A few months after I moved to New York, I discovered my unexpected passion for marathons. Not running marathons, obviously (I’m not insane.) Not timing them or getting involved in the nitty-gritty of what counts as a good time, whether or not carb-loading is worth it, or why people feel psychologically driven to undertake such a feat, either. Specifically, what I discovered I had a passion for was attending marathons and cheering on the knackered, red-faced people passing by at a sluggish pace with glazed eyes and gritted teeth, willing for their long-distance jog to end.

The first time I found this out about myself was in September, when the New York marathon passed by my apartment. Hot tea in hand, I soon realised a lot of people had sewn their names onto the back or fronts of their shirts in the hope (I imagined) that someone might give them a personalised cheer on the way down the course. There is nothing better than being able to yell at a sweaty passerby “Come on, Isabel! You’re doing great!” and to watch the recipient smile, wave and run a little faster with the boost the motivation gave them. Yes, they may have actually been running faster to get away from me, but I choose to believe the former.