MBNA Chester Marathon 2018

Chester Marathon 2018

The mist rolled over the race course, it was a cold October morning, however, there was a promise of it warming up eventually. Only a few hours earlier I had dropped my wife and child at the airport to fly to sunny Spain and here I was with my protective bin bag coverall (much to the amusement of passers by), waiting to embark on another 26.2 mile run.



I was putting the final preparations in place for my first UK based marathon.  I had chosen to partake in the Chester Marathon based on reviews and the wording "Flat & Fast" splashed all over the website.  This sounded like my kind of marathon!

I had donned my most recent Malta Marathon finishers tshirt to show that I was not a newbie to the distance, but I am sure my eyes still showed fear as I had only done this twice before.  I had put my training in for a slow and steady run, hopefully it would result in a new PB.

In Malta I had improved on my virgin journey by 9 minutes, I wanted more!

As I approached the starting herd, I positioned myself in the 4:15 group.  I had trained for around 4:10 so this would be a great group to run with.  A fellow 4:15 group member wore a "Maraton Di Napoli" t shirt, being of Neapolitan descent I had to engage.  We regaled over past marathon experiences, training faux pas and future endeavors all to pass the time before starting our new adventure.

REviewing the route beforehand, there seemed to be ample water stations and support stations so this time I had decided to run without a camelpak and just used my run belt full of gels, sweets and paracetamol as a life line.

Moments later, the town crier (who may have had a few too many the night before) slurred a rallying speech, he announced the start of the MBNA Chester Marathon and bade us all God speed.  We slowly edged towards the start line , fingers poised over watches.  This was it, we were off.

Out from the race course it was out into the cobbled streets of Chester.  The street were adorned with support.  Whoops, Hollas, cheers and claps echoed around the buildings, the masses were definitely out in force and it was brilliant.

Crossing over the River Dee was one of the many, many highlights of the race with full road closures and the winter sun starting to warm up, we embarked upon the old bridge with spectators on either side with rattlers, shakers, trumpets and applause, the atmosphere was truly buzzing.  It filled me with gleeful spirit.  With each persons name upon their bib, the crowds would direct support to each individual, this just emphasised the cheers.  The miles ticked by and I was feeling great, the crowds were having a definite impact on this feeling.

Starting in England, the 26.2 mile journey dips into Cymru for a brief but enjoyable moment and then back into St Georges Land.  It is picturesque and reasonably flat to start with (as advertised)

In Wales was my favourite part of the entire course, I named it Hero's loop.  Runners adorned either side of the road separated by a single line of traffic cones.  A long line of runners heading towards the turn point and on the other side were those on their way back.  Whilst running towards the turn we congratulated runners on the opposite side of the cones.  There were shouts of support, high fives, funny comments, claps and cheers to those who were on their way home.  A few minutes later, we were on our return journey and in turn we were cheered, praised and hi-fived as we were heroes also, if just for one day.  It was on Hero's loop that I saw my great friend Tilly Bean emblazoned with her Red Rose Runner top and a beaming smile on her face.

Back into Blighty the crowds never diminished, every corner had cheers, every street had support.  The aid stations were plentiful, spectators handed out sweets and chocolate.  My right arm began to ache as I had been carrying something be it a gel, water bottle, sweets or other delight for my full journey.

We passed the dreaded 18 mil marker which in the past had been my wall.  The pace was good, the group was good, so what happened......?

At 21.7 mile into my journey, I just stopped running.  No slow down, no pain, just an almighty STOP.  It was as if my body had decided enough was enough but not told my brain it's intentions.  I took a couple of steps towards the side of the road, watched my fellow 4:15 running group continue on and took a minute to re-assess.

I had 5 mile to go, what was I going to do?

I started with a very gentle walk/jog towards the 22 mile marker.  My pals in the 4:15 group were long gone now.  I knew that I had a 15 minute window until the next pacing group caught me up, but I wanted, no NEEDED, to finish sub 4:30.

At mile 22, I told myself to at least run to 23 then it would only be a parkrun to the finish line and I could do that, easily.  I heard a shout from close behind, "C'mon Pondo", I replied "Pondo is down".  Tilly Bean passed by still with her beaming smile, she was looking awesome!  (Hopefully Tilly Bean may share her journey experience with me and I can add below - check back soon!)

At 23 I was on countdown.  With the 4:30's somewhere behind I had to keep moving but the pain was rising from my slowed pace and seizing legs.

24 miles in I found a flaw in the description on the website, this was not a flat course.  It seemed as though all the hills had been rolled into one and saved until the very end.  I was expecting Sherpa's instead of support, I was ready to stick a flag in the top of this mountain.  What evil created such an incline and put it at the 24 mile mark of a marathon?

25 miles done and then 26

As I turned the final corner and the finish line loomed on the horizon I heard one of the crowd shout "Go Danny, you are nearly there, looking awesome", I knew they were lying about thier final comment but I smiled and thanked them for the support, seconds later I heard the same voice shout "Go Pacer, you are doing awesome. bang on time!"....I turned and less than 5 meters behind me was a group of runners surrounding a pacer wearing the 4:30 flag.  I am not proud of what I shouted at them and will never repeat these words again but it was more of a warning to myself rather than threatening.  I think I said it with the smile still on my face as the group laughed.

I picked up my heels and put every last remaining ounce of energy into my legs.  Onto the Race course I felt like a three legged donkey rather than a winning steed, but that did not matter, I had to hold off the encroaching group of stallions.

I "powered" across the finish line in 4 hours 29 minutes and 59 seconds.
(link to my finishing video)

I crossed the line with nothing left, I fell to the ground and cheered.  St Johns Ambulance came rushing over but I assured them I was fine, I just needed a little sleep.

To my right side, a runner grabbed hold of his daughter and gave her a massive hug.  His proud daughter adorned him with kisses and praise, I shed a little tear thinking of my own daughter now probably basking in the sun, my wife probably worrying about her idiot husband taking on another marathon. I got up and accepted my medal and complementary banana.

Chester is a superb marathon, organised by runners for runners.  It is definitely not as flat as it claims but the support for every step of the journey is phenomenal.

I will be back.....