Barcelona Marathon Review 2025

Damn, this is a flat course, I wish my legs would move a bit faster. My Garmin tells me I have run 26.2 miles but I cannot see the finish line at the Arc de Triomf. Hang on the sign says I have another five kilometres to go. How did this happen? Damn watch. Damn legs. I am not going to set a personal best, but I am going to finish.

I spent months training for this marathon wanting to beat my best time of 3 hours 45 minutes even though that was eight years ago. I have set myself a challenge of completing ten marathons before I turn 50. Barcelona was my sixth marathon and I was staying in a hotel close to the start and finish line to reduce the stress of running a really long way.

Five Guys, doughnuts, orange juice, continental breakfasts, cakes, steak, chips, paella with barely any prawns and yogurts fuelled me as I prepared for the big day. I injured my ankle area at the Brighton Marathon two weeks before the race so I rested it until the big day and it did not hurt when I was walking around.

The Expo made me laugh with a man just shoving my running t-shirt into my bag. I am a little disappointed with the t-shirt as it doesn’t seem the usual standard of marathon t-shirts. This doesn’t detract from the superb organisation and communication making it easy for participants to get there and run which is what people want.

There were plenty of male urinals at the start which was a huge relief, although I doubt the runners queuing for the cubicles enjoyed being so close to us. It was very intimate or maybe intrusive depending on your perspective. I like to think it freed up more cubicles for women so take that manosphere – 80% of toilets for as many women who needed them.

For a second I thought I was in England as there were so many UK runners there. The race has vibes and it was a nice touch to hear "Barcelona" by Queen vocalist Freddie Mercury and operatic soprano Montserrat Caballé. Maybe I was optimistic starting a few rows back from the 3:45 pacer but I stayed within range of them for 13 miles.

My Garmin watch seemed accurate for the first half of the race. I don’t know when the split between GPS and the road happened but my watch must have malfunctioned as I did not run as fast as last year so I thought it was strange that I was going to finish in 3:50. There was a good atmosphere but I fear I became an annoying blocker as I slowed down, slowed down some more and then got slower as I focused on the blue line on the road to motivate myself to keep going.

There were plenty of refreshments en route and I particularly like the orange slices to suck on. I almost dislocated my shoulder trying to unzip the side pockets on my ruck sack to get my Milka chocolate. I know Barcelona is infamous for pickpockets but a fellow runner pulling up my shorts to untangle it from my bum bag was a surprise. I sincerely hope pouring water over my head did not lead to my shorts getting wet and slipping down to expose too much of my better half.

When I realised I had another 5km to run that galvanised me to speed up. I was believing my watch at this point and you did not have to be fluent in English to understand how angry I was as I hit 27 miles and then almost 28 miles before I finished in 4:04. Not bad for 28 miles or maybe not that far.

There were more people at the finish line than running. Lovely for the runners but it took ages to get through the crowds to get back to my hotel. Love the medal and the memories. Unfortunately when I stopped running my ankle pain hit me with a vengeance and I spent the rest of the day in bed or hobbling to a fast food joint to get something to eat.

The next day I was stretching my legs on the steps of the Barcelona Cathedral.

‘Maratón?’ asked a lady with her partner.

‘Si,’ I replied, laughing through the pain, praying for divine intervention to fix my Garmin watch and confirm I ran a personal best.

Apart from the marathon the best thing about the trip was creating the illusion I could speak Spanish and buying my Demano bag.