Supporters are the unsung heroes of race day. They stand in the rain. They shout your name if it’s on your bib. They hold hilarious signs like “You’re doing better than the government!” and “Run like you stole something!”
But most of all, they clap.
Constantly. Endlessly. Sometimes enthusiastically. Sometimes like they’ve been forced into it at gunpoint.
And if you’ve done more than a few races, you know: not all claps are created equal.
So here it is, a deeply unscientific, borderline disrespectful ranking of the most common running claps you’ll hear en route. Because when you’re 11km in and dying inside, the quality of the clapping matters.
1. The Reluctant Golf Clap
Volume: Whisper
Frequency: Infrequent
Commitment: Bare minimum
Vibe: “I didn’t know this race was on and now I can’t get out of my driveway.”
This is the slow, one hand against the other patter of someone who doesn’t want to be outdoors. Usually performed by locals who’ve popped out in slippers to see why there’s shouting on their road.
Low energy. Low morale. You hear it and think, “Please don’t strain yourself.”
Score: 2/10. Thanks, I guess?
2. The “Well Done Everyone” Clap
Volume: Medium
Frequency: Steady
Commitment: Solid
Vibe: “I don’t know you, but I hope you do well.”
This one’s sincere but non specific. A safe, generic clap delivered with supportive neutrality. Usually paired with phrases like:
- “Keep going!”
- “Well done!”
- “Fair play!”
It won’t fire you up like a GAA coach at half time, but it’s nice. Like a polite nod from someone who’s not judging your wheezing.
Score: 6/10. Dependable. Like porridge.
3. The “I’ve Been Out Here for Too Long” Clap
Volume: Unhinged
Frequency: Constant, even when no runners are present
Commitment: Aggressive
Vibe: “I’ve reached the end of myself and this is all I have left.”
They’ve been clapping since sunrise. Their hands are red. Their voice is gone. But they will not stop. They are locked into a clapping trance and will cheer for anyone and anything that moves, including dogs, cyclists, and confused pedestrians.
It’s both inspiring and mildly frightening.
Score: 8/10. Terrifying in a good way.
4. The Overenthusiastic American Tourist Clap
Volume: Jet engine
Frequency: Non stop
Commitment: Unquestionable
Vibe: “EVERYONE IS A CHAMPION!”
They don’t know you. They don’t know what this race is. But they are now emotionally invested in your personal journey.
They’re clapping wildly, yelling “YOU’VE GOT THIS BUDDY!” and probably holding a sign that says “Pain is just weakness leaving the body!” in Comic Sans.
You were going to slow down. Now you can’t, not with Susan from Michigan screaming your name like you’re about to win Boston.
Score: 9/10. Overwhelming, slightly chaotic, but elite motivation.
5. The “Barely Trying” One Finger Tap
Volume: Silent
Frequency: Rare
Commitment: Minimal effort, possibly medical
Vibe: “I am present in body only.”
This is not a clap. This is someone touching two fingers together and hoping that counts as encouragement.
Usually spotted among bored spouses, dragged along teens, and people who definitely didn’t agree to be here. They look like they’re checking their watch while applauding. You wonder if they’re even awake.
Score: 1/10. Technically clapping, emotionally absent.
6. The “I Saw Your Name on Your Bib and Now We’re Best Friends” Clap
Volume: Focused intensity
Frequency: Once every 30 seconds
Commitment: Personalised
Vibe: “You. Yes, YOU, Sarah. You’re smashing it.”
This is the gold standard. They spot your name. They shout it like they’ve known you since school. You feel SEEN. You feel LIKE A LEGEND. You briefly believe you can win this entire race, despite being 484th.
Usually followed by a turbo charged clap just for you.
Score: 10/10. Tears, chills, possible religious awakening.
Final Word
Clapping might seem small, but on race day, it’s everything. It’s what keeps you moving when your quads are jelly and your soul’s leaking out your ears.
So to all the clappers, we see you. Especially you, Mary-Anne from Boston. You didn’t have to go that hard. But we’re so glad you did.