The Crowd Support We Hear… but No Longer Listen To

Dorian Vuillet
By Dorian Vuillet

Published on Wed, September 9, 2026

Updated on Wed, September 9, 2026

The Crowd Support We Hear… but No Longer Listen To
© STADION-ACTU

They’re there, faithful as ever, shouting from the pavements, clapping their hands and shaking plastic cowbells. Race supporters are precious; their presence is a blessing. But sometimes, despite their best intentions, their encouragement sounds more like a collection of stock phrases than genuine mental fuel. “Come on, runners!”, “Only 10K to go!”, “You look good when you run!” These roadside classics deserve a closer look. Between awkwardness, unintentional irony and counterproductive effects, there’s plenty to smile at… or wince over.

Chapter 1 – The bingo of empty encouragement

Whenever a race passes through a village, it’s the same ritual. People step outside their front doors, grab a cup of coffee, wrap a blanket around their knees and reach for their stock phrases. A “Come on, runners!” for everyone, tossed out like a flyer. Except that impersonal “come on” soon starts to ring hollow. It singles out no one and speaks to no one. It’s generic, formulaic, lukewarm.

No one begrudges the intention, but by the 17th “come on” heard over 200 metres, something strange happens: you go deaf. The brain automatically files it under “background noise”. And the left leg carries on grumbling.


Chapter 2 – The chrono’s false friends

Among the greatest classics is the famous “Only 10K to go!” heard… at 32K in a marathon. The person delivering the message is all smiles, convinced they’ve given you a little boost. But for the runner who has just spent 2 hours 40 grinding their legs down, it sounds more like a questionable joke.

First, because 10K is still a long way. Then because, at that point, the clock no longer means anything. It’s no longer about distance, but survival. And calmly announcing what’s left is a bit like saying “good luck with your final fifteen minutes of suffering”. Except there are more like 45 minutes to go. At least.


Chapter 3 – The humour that stings a little

Another speciality of the enthusiastic supporter: the well-timed quip. “You look good when you run!” often delivered with a knowing little smile. On paper, it could get a laugh. In reality, it’s more often a small uppercut of self-deprecation.

Because looking “good while running” is highly relative. Sweaty, bright red and one step away from walking, you’re no longer exactly giving off Kipchoge’s finish-line photo vibes. And this attempt at humour, meant to lighten the effort, sometimes weighs on the ego instead. At its worst, it even sounds like barely disguised mockery. The opposite of what you need in a rough patch.


Chapter 4 – The right words at the right time

So what really works? It’s not an exact science, but a few simple lines have the merit of actually helping. Shouting a runner’s name, when it’s visible on the bib, changes everything. It wakes you up. It restores a little identity within the herd.

Another winning option: realistic encouragement. “You’ve done the hard part”, “Hang in there, you’re in it”, “That’s solid running”… small, concrete phrases that speak to the runner in that precise moment. Because they take into account the situation, the difficulty and the energy already spent on the tarmac. They don’t try to sugar-coat things; they offer support.


Chapter 5 – The subtle art of being there without making too much noise

Sometimes, the best encouragement is simply being there. A look that connects, a genuine round of applause, a wordless wave. Silent empathy is a universal language that lands better than yet another “Come on, come on!” shouted at random.

As a certain Muhammad Ali once said: “It isn’t the mountains ahead to climb that wear you out; it’s the pebble in your shoe.” In the inner battle that running so often becomes, empty phrases are like supermarket gels: they promise a lot but deliver very little. What runners need is truth and precision. Not audio copy-and-paste.


Chapter 6 – Supporting is also a form of running

Because yes, standing by the roadside is a form of commitment. A marathon of patience, a half-marathon of motivation. And that deserves respect. But it’s worth making it a little more thoughtful, a little more personal. A well-aimed word can restart a stride. A steady gaze can rekindle a flame. And sometimes, a simple “I’ll see you at the finish” is worth every megaphone in the world.

So, to all the supporters lining our streets: Keep showing up, loud, sincere and a little clumsy. But if possible, leave “Only 10K to go” in the back of the drawer. Offer a genuine smile instead. It’s amazing what a difference it can make, even at 39K.