London Marathon Leaves Capital in State of Humanitarian Emergency

The annual London Marathon has once again plunged the city into scenes of apocalyptic chaos, as tens of thousands of joggers, supporters, and baffled tourists combine to form a living nightmare of Lycra, passive aggression, and isotonic fluids.

Road closures, designed with the express purpose of destroying livelihoods and sanity, have transformed central London into a sprawling Mad Max wasteland where survival depends on one’s ability to vault over discarded energy gel packets and shout, “But I live here!” at high-vis stewards.

Local resident Norman Keats said:

“I tried to pop out for a pint of milk and got trapped between a man dressed as a rhino and an accountant in a ‘fun’ wig. I’ve now been living under an abandoned Pret for two days. The rhino man is in charge.”

Public transport has collapsed entirely, with Transport for London issuing a blanket statement:

“Have you considered just staying where you are forever? It’s easier for everyone.”

Meanwhile, runners — many of whom have trained for months in order to achieve an entirely arbitrary personal best time that no one else cares about — continue to heroically subject themselves to public dehydration and shin disintegration.

Entrepreneurs, middle managers, and wellness influencers, sensing a branding opportunity, are reportedly “smashing through” mental barriers and, occasionally, actual barriers erected by the Metropolitan Police to prevent marathon-related anarchy.

Paramedics have been seen treating injuries ranging from ironic selfie accidents to acute existential crises brought on at Mile 18.

The marathon finishes with exhausted runners weeping into free bananas and wondering how long they can realistically wear their finisher’s medal without seeming desperate for validation. Estimates suggest most will attempt to wear it until Thursday at the latest.