Andy Wallis reports
Chester, as everyone knows, is a fine Roman city — cobbles, walls, amphitheatres, and a nice line in gladiatorial suffering.
On Sunday 5th October, the locals once again opened their gates not to invading legions but to several thousand people voluntarily embarking on a 26.2-mile tour of their scenic surroundings, paying for the privilege to do so.
Having previously completed Manchester 2024 in a stately 5 hours 13 minutes (an experience best described as “character building with footnotes in existential dread”), I arrived at Chester hoping for something smoother.
I wasn’t expecting miracles — maybe a slightly shorter death march, perhaps fewer hallucinations involving Haribo.
What I got instead was an out-of-body experience: 3 hours, 37 minutes and 55 seconds later, I’d somehow crossed the line wondering if I’d accidentally joined the metric marathon instead.
The morning dawned cool and calm, which was mildly disappointing — runners like to have a good moan about something, and perfect conditions make that tricky. The start at Chester Racecourse was a hive of nervous energy, gels, and people pretending not to be looking for the toilets for the third time.
The first few miles thread through the historic centre — over cobbles, under the Eastgate Clock, and past bemused tourists wondering why the Romans ever left. It’s all very atmospheric until you realise your watch has been confused by the GPS bounce, leaving you with splits that suggest you’ve just set a world record.
Out into the countryside we went, winding through pretty Cheshire villages where locals shouted names with the gusto of people who’ve been told there’s a prize for best encouragement. One sign read “Pain is just French for bread.” I didn’t understand it then and still don’t now, but it helped.
At mile 13, something extraordinary happened — I ran through halfway in less time than it had taken me to reach the halfway mark in Manchester. For a brief, glorious moment, I considered phoning my past self to gloat.
Crossing into Wales provided a nice international flavour to proceedings — one minute Cheshire, the next a different country, though the accent of the marshal yelling “Keep going, mate!” was reassuringly similar.
Around mile 18, the legs started sending formal complaints to head office. The reply — “Just keep running until someone gives you a medal” — seemed satisfactory at the time.
The return into Chester is deceptive: slightly uphill, annoyingly twisty, and lined with spectators who are far too chipper for that stage of the race.
Someone shouted, “You’re nearly there!” at mile 25, which is, as we all know, a filthy lie.
And then — down to the finish line. The final stretch felt like running through treacle, but the finish gantry appeared, the watch beeped, and somehow the numbers read 3:37:55.
A personal best by an hour and thirty-five minutes. Either I’ve improved dramatically or I missed a large chunk of the course; I’m choosing to believe the former, and as promised I put this personal achievement entirely down to Lisa Jones’ Wednesday sessions.
Post-race, the organisation was as smooth as the tarmac I could no longer walk on. Medal, T-shirt, Mars Bar, Red Bull — the Holy Quartet of marathon survival.
All told, Chester is a superb marathon: scenic, friendly, and just hilly enough to remind you that life is suffering.
Would recommend it to anyone — though perhaps not immediately after finishing.
First place male: Joshua Griffiths 02:17:16 of Swansea Harriers
First place female: Sammy Antell 02:44:22 of Bideford AAC
Result:
MBNA Chester Marathon – October 5th, 2025
Time: 3:37:55 (PB by 1h 35m 05s)
Previous: Manchester Marathon 2024 – 5:13:00
