New York City Marathon 2025 Race Review

They say the New York City Marathon is the greatest in the world. You may be surprised to hear that the Internet isn’t lying on this point. From the cannon blast on Staten Island to the roar through Central Park, it’s equal parts spectacle, street party, and existential leg workout.

Yes, there were queues, chaos, and cramps, but somehow none of it mattered. The sheer noise, energy, and scale of it all made even the worst moments feel oddly glorious. Brooklyn alone could probably power the national grid if you harnessed the cheering.

NYC Marathon Expo

The Javits Center is huge, walking in I was buzzing, everyone is excited and it’s contagious. Picking up the bib was dead easy, it is organised by bib number so there isn’t much of a queue. Once you’ve got your number you head into the expo with all the New Balance merchandise which was insanely busy. I didn’t particularly like any of it so made my way out of there fairly quickly. The rest of the Expo was also very busy and I did not hang around for long, did not buy anything in the end because again, nothing was particularly good

NYC Marathon Start Area

Getting to the start was… an experience. Because the race begins on Staten Island, everyone has to be bussed out from Manhattan — and by “everyone,” I mean what felt like half of New York City. There were hundreds of buses lined up outside the New York Public Library, but the queueing system was pure chaos. No signs, no order, just thousands of confused runners pretending we were in the right line while quietly losing the will to live.

When we finally boarded, I thought the worst was over. It wasn’t. Getting off the bus was somehow worse, because all 60,000 runners had to go through security — and there were about ten scanners. Two hours later, I finally made it through.

I’d booked the 6 a.m. bus thinking I’d spend hours sitting around the start village, nervously eating bagels and overthinking life choices. Instead, I arrived just in time to pee once and head to my corral. So the start area gets a generous 2/10 — two points purely for the sheer number of buses that kept rolling in, even if nobody knew where they were going.

Start corrals

Each wave has its own corrals, and I somehow ended up in Corral A — right at the front. Standing there felt exactly like queuing for a rollercoaster you’re not sure you want to be on. My heart rate hit 130 before I’d even moved, and I genuinely thought I might throw up.

We stood there for about 15 minutes, just enough time for one last nervous pee and a brief life reflection, before shuffling toward the actual start line on the Verrazzano Bridge. Five minutes to go: a man gives a short speech, a woman steps up to sing the national anthem — a bit cheesy, but weirdly emotional when you’re seconds away from a panic attack.

Then the cannon fires, New York, New York blasts through the speakers, and suddenly it’s happening. If I were the kind of person who cries, that would’ve been the first moment.

The NYC Marathon Race Course

The Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge

The Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge was steeper than I expected, but I stuck to an impressively slow pace, because nothing says “rookie error” like sprinting the first mile of a marathon. The view was incredible, though; the Manhattan skyline glowing in the distance like a taunt.

Brooklyn

Coming off the bridge, the first stretch into Brooklyn was quiet — then the crowds appeared, and it was glorious. I had my name printed on my vest, which meant hundreds of strangers were screaming it with an enthusiasm I’ve never received from anyone I actually know. Brooklyn was also hillier than expected, but with that kind of noise, you don’t notice. If I were the sort of person who could cry, this would’ve been the second moment.

Queens & the Queensboro Bridge

Queens was fine — a bit of a palate cleanser after Brooklyn. Then came the Queensboro Bridge, famously hated by everyone. I’d braced for the worst, but it wasn’t that bad. It’s long, quiet, and uphill, but compared to the Staten Island bus queue, it felt manageable.

Manhattan & The Bronx

Hitting Manhattan was brilliant, though the crowd wasn’t quite Brooklyn-level (but then, what is?). I was still feeling strong, keeping a steady pace into The Bronx, and even dared to believe my “push the final 8K” plan might work.

It did not.

At around 33K the cramps began in my right quad. I hobbled to the first medical tent, got a quick leg massage, and was back out for five glorious minutes before the other leg decided to join the protest. Cue screaming, swearing, and another medical tent near mile 23. A full lower-body massage later, I was miraculously running again, like some sort of reanimated marathon corpse.

Central Park

Central Park was everything people say: beautiful, brutal, and somehow uphill in every direction. I’d taken a Caffeine Bullet and was buzzing like a small generator. By mile 25 the twitching returned, so I eased off just enough to make sure I could actually cross the finish line upright.

The final stretch is a steady incline, but when you hit that 200-metre marker and hear the crowds, it’s pure electricity. I emptied the tank and crossed the line — emotional, ecstatic, and far too dehydrated to cry.

The finish

I limped to the medical tent for one last leg massage to make sure I could actually reach the pub without collapsing. Slowly making my way out of the finish area, an hour later I was holding a pint and a slice of pizza, wondering how it was possible to feel both broken and brilliant at the same time.

My personal performance

My finish time was a disgraceful 4:34:42, after originally aiming for 3:50-4:00. That means my PB is still from Valencia 2017, when I ran in 4:33:36. Back then I was still in my 20s but I was a heavy smoker and overweight, so my NYC Marathon results are obviously disappointing, but I had such an amazing time that it only makes me want to do it again.

What went wrong

Like someone said on Reddit, your margin for error in a marathon is minimal - the smallest thing can end up ruining your entire race. The classic downfalls tend to be starting off too fast, not eating or drinking enough, or not getting enough electrolytes. I started off extremely slowly, nailed my fuel and consumed tons of salt after learning the hard way that I am an extremely salty sweater and I start cramping after 60-90 minutes if I don’t consume salt.

Of course, pinpointing what went wrong is largely guesswork, but for me personally, it likely came down to:

• Going so slow I left good form behind. I was so adamant to go slowly, because the Verrazzano Bridge is brutal, and while that was the right approach I struggle to keep good form when I slow down too much
• My glutes never activated. I’ve spent this entire training block focussing on glute activation and strengthening, I was finally getting comfortable using my glutes during my runs, and spent a nice long time activating my glutes in the start area. But once that cannon goes off and you hear “New York, New York”, everything goes out the window. Nerves and excitement meant I completely forgot all the glute cues and not until mile 21 did I realise my glutes had not been working at all.
• Poor running economy. This comes down to not using my glutes and going too slow to keep good form, combined with the excitement of running New York City Marathon. My heart rate was in upper Z3 and even hit Z4 at times, even though I was running slowly. I did get it under a bit more control later on, but it’s certainly not ideal.
• Muscle weakness. I’ve been hitting the gym and had regular leg days, but building up even more strength will definitely help, particularly the muscles that I tend to overuse, like my quads and inner thighs.
• Lack of fatigue resistance. I only ran three times per week, which meant I almost always did my long runs on fresh legs. That probably means I didn’t sufficiently train my body to keep efficient form and coordination when tired — building neuromuscular endurance should help delay cramping and maintain stride in my next race.

Is New York City Marathon worth running?

NYC Marathon 2025 is hands down the best race I have ever run. Yes, it’s hilly and absolutely brutal, but if you only plan to do one single marathon in your life - this is the one.