Race Report: MBNA Chester 10K

I ran the MBNA Chester 10K today.

I was in the orange wave, which meant a 9am start, and I was meeting some of the Fordy Run crew at 8:30. It’s about a 35-minute drive from my house, but being good old AuDHD I left at 6am. I got to the car park ridiculously early, pushed my seat back, and chilled with my audiobook until showtime.

Eventually I met up with the Fordy Run crew who were absolutely lovely, and it was great to finally put faces to the names I’ve been chatting with.

The announcer told us there were 8,000 entries and the course record was 33 minutes.

At that point I thought… I’ll just be happy if I get round.

I always get mega race nerves, but there’s something about Chester. Tatton will always have my heart, but seeing thousands of runners and supporters lining the roads is just on another level.

This was my longest run since I damaged my knee and tore my calf last year. I also had my hemithyroidectomy less than four weeks ago, and I’m still really struggling with energy levels and my blood pressure doing weird things.

The furthest I’ve run in the last 12 months is 5K.

So the plan today was simple.

I ran the first 3 minutes, then Jeffed 30 seconds run / 30 seconds walk for the entire rest of the race without missing a single interval.

Yes, I was 6 minutes slower than last year, but I’d done zero proper training for this.

I also forgot my inhaler (genius move), so the last kilometre was rough. My breathing was all over the place, my knee was starting to stiffen up, and I felt the sickest I’ve ever felt during a run.

But that final kilometre…

It’s lined with a sea of faces.

Unfortunately I didn’t have any supporters there, but that didn’t stop complete strangers calling my name and cheering me in.

I even got a dog energy boop on the way past (if you know me, you know this is absolutely a thing).

When I crossed the line I honestly wanted to cry.

I was slower than last year. I felt awful. I was exhausted.

But then I stopped and looked at my medal.

I had just run 10 kilometres.

10 kilometres without stopping. Without proper training. Probably under-fuelled and running on fumes.

But I still did it.

Me.

And who cares if it was slower?

Because as the saying goes…

“We chase finish lines, not finish times.”