Well folks, I did it....just about expired in the process....... but that box is now ticked! And I had a fun day out. I would thoroughly recommended to anyone who considering the idea of forcing themselves through months of training, giving up all pleasure in life, and losing all immunity to the effects of alcohol! Sounds tempting?

I was very nervous at the beginning of the day, but had a fantastic 'second timer' starting buddy who kept me calm...and showed me where to rub Vaseline (and it's not a pleasant experience watching hundreds of male marathon runners with their greasy hands down their shorts) but it was a sunny day and the atmosphere was marvellous. He was on his second marathon, had a foot tied up in bandages, and a bit of a limp, and was under physio treatment at the time...so I felt quite athletic in comparison.

We were positioned in the very last pen of nine, in the 'no-hoper' section next to the robot on stilts, the lady with an ostrich round her waist, and the samurai warrior. Someone is obviously not taking my running career seriously. How on earth people run 26 miles in all that tat, I do not know. The run itself was fine apart from being soaked through to the pants twice. Lots of cheering crowds, lots of Lucozade (just what the dentist ordered) and my big German taking photos and waving in Canary Wharf. The children were all hanging off the lampposts screaming 'Mummy' across the field and so it all went beautifully smoothly until about 23 miles, when I began to realise that there was a reason why all these people were paying me to do this, and it all began to hurt a bit...well, quite a lot actually. I was tempted to walk for a while, but then realised that it would just prolong the agony. Westminster is a very, very long way from Buckingham Palace...well it's not actually...only about half a mile, but it felt like the longest distance EVER.

My finishing time was 4 hours 34...not too brilliant, but not walking pace either. I don't think 2012 athletes need fear the competition in Dulwich just yet. I hope my big sister would have been proud of me, just for finishing, though. Either that, or she'd tell me I was nuts.

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