Jelly Tots...not Jelly Legs....

Sunday 18th April 6.32am, 4 Weetabix's down and my stomach couldn't take much more...the nerves were bad as the prospect of having a similar experience to 2010's run was unfortunately at the forefront of my mind....

As I approached the park at Blackheath and saw my best buddy with her house 'For Sale' sign redesigned with 'GO CANNY GO!', the nerves disappeared and I just had a good feeling that today was going to be just fine.

As I crossed the start line I eased into gentle going miles reassuring myself that it would be ok.

I took in every mile, every spectator, every good luck sign, every good wish...I really couldn't get over the crowds that were out...I felt like I was competing in the Olympics for my country and everyone was cheering me on.

I got over Tower Bridge and knew Clapham Runner's support wasn't far away. I was so excited passing the CR brigade and felt proud of being part of such an amazing bunch of people who were shouting so loudly! I took it all in as ahead of me was the tough 15 miler where last year I stopped to walk...what was going to happen this time?

I passed 15, 16 and 17 feeling great, although I was beginning to feel tension in my ribs and stomach even though the legs were as strong as ever. I decided a nice shot of sugar was needed and downed half a bag of Jelly Tots, washed down by a bottle of Lucozade Sport and within 5 minutes I was a new woman.

Mile 18 saw me exposing my backside in the middle of Canary Wharf for a much needed spray of Deep Heat on a problem area that troubled me last year. My husband said I ran up to him, pulled up my shorts and shouted, 'spray my a88, quick!'. The crowd were very

amused as I raced off in search of a PB.

I passed mile 20 thinking, 'cool, only 6 miles to go and I am feeling good' so I passed the CR brigade again on mile 21, and they were certainly right to think I was looking pleased with myself as I was!

I loved the last 5 miles and would love to know what time I ran it in. I couldn't understand where the massive surge energy came from but I didn't care.

I flew past my husband at mile 26, throwing my Camel Bag to him (I was thinking of looking good for the finish line photo!) and taking out half the supporters around him. He apparently apologised explaining that the mad woman who had flown by sprinting, was his wife.

When I saw the 'Only 400 metres to go' sign, I thought, 'ah feck, that's a complete lap of Battersea running track...can I really sprint to the line????'

And I did...all the way down the mall (that I walked along last year), around the corner past Lizzie's House and like a mad loonatic on speed, all the way up to the finish line.

I crossed over the line laughing and said to the Marshall, 'that's it, never again', to which he replied 'that's what they all say!'.

But I kinda do feel it was my last London Marathon, not because I don't have another one in me, but because I don't think I will ever top the feeling I experienced last Sunday, nor do I want to try to. I had the best day's running EVER and will never forget it for as long as I live.

It was certainly one of the best days of my life.