If you ask a casual fan, they’ll probably say it’s in Greenwich Park. And they’re not wrong—but they’re not fully right, either. The marathon doesn’t just have one start line; it has three. That’s right—three separate start lines, each one a little slice of controlled pandemonium. You don’t just rock up and run; you get assigned a colour: Red, Blue, or Green.
These colours aren’t just for fun. They decide exactly where you begin your 26.2-mile journey. The Red start is on Charlton Way, the Blue start is on St. John’s Park, and the Green start is tucked away near Vanbrugh Hill. Don’t mix them up, or you’ll be sprinting in the wrong herd while your friends wave at an empty street. (True story: I saw a guy in the Red pen frantically trying to jump the fence to Blue. It did not go well.)
Why the chaos? History, that’s why.
Back in 1981, the first London Marathon had a single start line on a quiet road in Greenwich. It was quaint. Then 30,000 runners showed up, and the organisers realised they had a traffic jam on their hands. So they split it into three starting pens to avoid a human crush—like a very sweaty, lycra-clad version of triage. The result? A staggered start that begins around 9:40 AM for the elite women and rolls out in waves until nearly 11 AM.
Here’s the funny thing about the start: it’s not at the official “start” of the course. The timing mat is on the A2 (Shooter’s Hill Road), about a mile from those respective start pens. So you shuffle forward in your coloured pen, hear the air horn, jog a gentle mile, and suddenly wham—you cross the mat, and your watch officially beeps. That’s the real start line. The rest was just a very long, very loud queue.
Run for Home-Start Wandsworth - Home-Start Wandsworth
Let’s talk about that moment. You’re standing there, heart pounding, trying to remember if you applied Vaseline in all the right places. The guy behind you is breathing down your neck—literally. Then the countdown hits, and 12,000 people start moving. It’s slow at first, like a glacier of costumes and sneakers. Then you hit the mat, and pandemonium becomes joy. You’re off.
Pro tip for the anxious first-timer:
Don’t look at your watch in the first mile. Seriously. The GPS goes haywire under the trees in Greenwich Park. You’ll think you’re running a world record pace when you’re actually just being herded downhill. The actual start line coordinates (if you’re a data nerd like me) are 51.4770° N, 0.0024° W. That’s the mat location. But I promise you, the emotional start line is wherever you first hear the sound of a portable speaker blasting “Eye of the Tiger.”
But wait—what about the finish? That’s easier: The Mall, near Buckingham Palace. Everyone knows that. It’s the glorious, carpeted end where you cry, puke, or both. But the start? It’s a secret handshake shared only by those who’ve been there. It’s a patch of grass, a parking lot, and a dozen confused volunteers holding signs that say “Red Pen D.” You’ll get there via the special shuttle buses from London Bridge or Maze Hill station. Or you’ll walk like I did, cursing the uphill in your bin bag, wondering why you didn’t train harder.
London Marathon Start Time: When Does The 2026 Race Begin? | Coach
