When I crossed the finish line on London's Mall in front of the Buckingham Palace, my first thought was "I am SO glad it is finally over...!" I reached an unexpected low, an anticlimax at the end of the long journey of running my first ever marathon. My knees gave in as soon as I stopped running, I struggled to walk to the kind woman handing me a medal, and I did not know whether to laugh or to cry. It took me a couple of hours to get over this melancholy and realise what has happened: I ran the London marathon and I finished! It is a massive achievement of dedication to a vigorous training regime, physical fitness, stamina and determination on the day. I have ticked that box!!

I will remember 26 April 2009 for the rest of my life. Contrary to all the weather forecasts, it was a bright, hot and sunny day. A treat for the spectators, it was a cruel joke for the athletes as the heat took its toll from the very first mile. I grabbed water at every single station, drank it greedily and poured the rest over my head. By mile 3 I knew it will be an endurance test beyond my expectations. The overwhelming number of 36,000 participants was another aspect I found particularly challenging. From the very beginning and to the finish line I had to make my way through thousands of competitors continuously zigzagging and fighting for ground. I was forced to run at the crowd's pace not my own. While crossing the start line was the happiest moment of the day, approaching Tower Bridge, a halfway mark, was for me the gloomiest. I suddenly lost the joy of the race, running became a struggle and I winced with realisation that I would need a lot of mental strength to keep me going the second half of the way. At least I did not try to pace myself for a particular finish time; I simply kept trotting on, slowly and steadily getting to mile 20, a distance I have covered before, a psychological mark I knew I could count on reaching. Once there I visibly cheered up. I thought I could now start counting down from 6 to 1; I even thought I managed to speed up a bit at the end on sheer adrenaline and amazing, invaluable support from the cheering crowds. The last mile did last forever. I was even tempted to shout out: "How far to the finish line?!" when I saw a sign saying 800 metres. When I got to "Last 385 yards" I knew I was home. A final push with my eyes glued to the countdown screen as I was desperately trying to convince myself I could finish in under 4 hours. I did it. Just.... 3 hours 59 minutes and 22 seconds. An astonishing achievement which makes me very, very proud.

As if the physical prize is not enough, my fundraising effort is another reason for joy. Overall, I have raised over £2,500 for Children in Crisis through my friends and colleagues who have demonstrated true generosity in these difficult and uncertain times. I am very grateful for everyone's help and support.

On this note, I am putting a full stop to my journey, a personal challenge, a discovery of human determination and endurance and a mission to help others along the way.