A 6am alarm call started the day, and while I got ready, hubby made me a big dish of porridge.
I was so grateful that he came with me on the train as I wasn't in any fit state to negotiate a route.
There was a real spirit of camaraderie on the trains; we sat opposite an experienced marathon runner who offered plenty of good advice.
A points signal failure at Greenwich meant that we all had to disembark a stop early and walk 25 minutes to the red start...not the most relaxing start to the day.
I waved goodbye to hubby at the station, knowing that the next time I saw him would be at mile 15.
I found a shady spot under a tree in Greenwich, smothered my feet in Vaseline and took my kit bag to the lorry. As I was walking away a friendly voice said 'Hello, Jas'...it was Lorraine, a fellow Asthma UK runner, who told me she has been reading my blog. We chatted for a few minutes, and it was good meet her, and to know that someone else felt as nervous as me!
I headed for the queue for the loos, and got chatting to Vicki, a children's nurse. We were both in red pen 9, and headed to the start line together. Everyone was so friendly - we were all wishing each other well - and before I knew it the race had started and we were surging towards the start line.
It took twenty five minutes to get across the line, but the chip on your shoe records the exact time that you start, and also tracks you through the race.
I have known since my injury that I would have to employ a run/walk strategy to get me round, so I had a number of best (and worst) case scenarios planned for the day. They were:
1) Run 4 minutes, walk 1 minute - finish in about 5hrs 30 mins
2) Run/walk at whatever ratio was necessary to get round, and make it to the finish
3) Run/walk/crawl to the end, no matter what the time
4) Drop out at some point...I'd have given it my best shot, and should be proud of myself for giving it a go
I was prepared to settle for 1,2 or 3, but would have been devastated to resort to 4.
The first 6 miles went pretty much to plan - I was keeping a slow, steady pace. I was running for four minutes and power walking for one, but the heat was rising fast and my breathing was beginning to suffer.
When I first began training, I would struggle for breath almost immediately, but that gradually got better as I got fitter. In London, a combination of the heat and the air quality seemed to put me back to square one, and by mile 7 I went to option 2.
I scaled down the running and ran for 3 minutes then power walked for 2, but I was very conscious that my breathing was laboured. I had my inhaler with me, but need it so rarely now that the sudden steroid hit gives me the shakes, so I was reticent to use it.
I know everyone says it, but the crowds really are amazing. People constantly call out your name, children hold out their hands to touch you, and there are people giving out handfuls of sweets. There are bands along the way, folk on their balconies with microphones giving impromptu commentaries, and - even better - people with hosepipes to shower us down.
A few times along the first half of the route we passed churches and were sprinkled with holy water. That was a bit of an unexpected experience!
Somewhere along mile 12 I turned a corner, and suddenly we were on Tower Bridge. It's such an iconic part of the course, and I wanted to remember every step of it. Looking up at the turrets was amazing; the sheer emotion very literally took my breath away, and I had to fight to keep my composure.
As I was leaving the bridge, I caught sight of my family on the left hand side. Hubby said from the outset that he wanted to see me on Tower Bridge, but all the advice was to steer clear because it gets so busy. There was time for a quick hug before I started off again, but that unexpected meeting gave me renewed energy.
Things start to blur after this point, but I think it was before mile 13 that I trod on a discarded water bottle and it threw me off balance. Under normal circumstances it wouldn't matter, but I knew that the slight twisting of my left knee could cause problems further into the race. I had ibuprofen with me, and decided that the time had come to take them. Unfortunately my hands and fingers had become so swollen that I dropped them. Okay...don't panic.
Knowing that hubby and the crew were en-route to mile 15, I phoned to ask them to get tablets ready for me, but they were caught on the underground. They missed me at mile 15 by a whisker and went straight to mile 18.
Hubby offered to try to find me, but I begged him to stay put. I already knew how much I would need their support at mile 18, and the thought of not seeing them again until mile 24 was frightening.
I think this was one of my low points, and it must have shown on my face. A man in the crowd held his hand out, and I lifted mine to tag him. He grasped my hand hard and said 'Come on, Jas, you can do this. Don't give up!' I could barely thank him through the tears, but that single act of kindness spurred me on again.
Heading into Canary Wharf sent my Garmin into a tailspin as it kept losing the GPS signal amongst the tall buildings, but I tried to keep an even pace. I knew by this point that a five and a half hour finish was out of the question, but still hoped that under 6 was possible...but it was so hot (20 degrees) and my knee was fairly uncomfortable.
Seeing the family again at mile 18 was wonderful, but I was daunted by the thought of 8 miles left to go. My chest felt tight, and there seemed to be no oxygen in the air. I had dropped to two minutes running, three minutes power walking by this point just to try to keep my breathing regular, and was maintaining a steady pace.
I was only able to think mile at a time from this point in, but the crowd support remained phenomenal. Runners were helping each other along, and as I passed fellow runners I made sure I offered words of encouragement.
Mile 24 seemed to go on forever. I knew the family were there somewhere, but didn't know where. I think it was about 24.8 when I saw them, and they hugged me and promised I was nearly there.
The crowds were much bigger again along the embankment, and were really cheering loudly and shouting our names. I stayed close to the edge, as more people can see your name, and tried to clap and shout 'thank you' every time - it was a good distraction from my feet (which were on fire!) and worked like a ripple effect, so the next group along cheered for me, too.
Big Ben coming into view was the second time that emotions really caught me, and tears streamed down my face. A lovely lady came out of the crowd and hugged me, encouraging me on. People are so kind (and brave...I was a very sweaty and smelly by mile 25!).
Running was almost impossible from mile 23 on as my knee was so sore, but I kept pushing myself. A six hour finish was a distant dream, but rough calculations told me that I could just squeak in under 6 and a half hours if I pushed hard.
Turning past Buckingham Palace into the finishing straight was the best feeling in the world, and ignoring the knee pain, I ran down the Mall to the finish line.
The relief at reaching the end is indescribable.
My timing chip was removed for verification and a medal was hung round my neck. I cried again at that point...it was the moment that I had been looking forward to for months, and it had finally arrived.
I collected my goody bag and kit bag, and wished very much that I hadn't packed everything including the kitchen sink in there...it weighed a tonne, and I could hardly walk, let alone weight lift! I'd arranged to meet the family in the 'meet and greet' area in Horseguards Parade, but that seemed like 100 miles away. I phoned them (hurrah for mobiles!) and said I'd make my way up to the Asthma reception venue on Pall Mall, and they could meet me there.
They actually caught up with me just before I got there, and it was a very emotional reunion. As a reward for running and fundraising for Asthma UK, I got treated to a lovely hot shower followed by a much needed massage.
I can't thank my best friend enough for sorting out my towel and fresh clothes, undoing my shoe laces, removing my shoes and the plasters from my sore feet. Dedication above and beyond the call of duty!
The massage was wonderful. My calves were cramping up, and it really helped to relax them. Blister plasters applied, and slippers on, we headed - very slowly - to the station.
You may recall that the station right next to our hotel was closed for the weekend (d'oh!) so we had to catch a bus for the last part of the journey. We asked the driver if he was going to North Action, and he assured us he was. Half an hour in, we realised that we were nowhere near North Acton. 'You need to get off, cross over and catch the bus going the other way,' said the driver. 'That will take you to North Acton'.
We did as we were told - fortunately the bus going the opposite way had just pulled into the stop - and checked with the second driver. 'North Acton?'. 'Yes', he said. Can you guess what's coming...? We ended up back where we started. An exhausting hour wasted.
The bus we actually needed was at the terminus, and we checked four or five times that he really was going to North Acton, and twenty minutes later we were back at the hotel and climbing into the car. Hubby drove us home, and I was so glad to get back.
It had been a long day.
The low points? Seeing someone just ahead of me collapse at mile 6. She was the first many casualties I saw along the route. The heat was really taking it out of people. Also seeing people sat at the side of the roads with blood pouring from their feet, in pain and exhausted - their dreams dashed.
The high points? Seeing the family at Tower Bridge, and not just there, but all along the route. They did amazingly well to spot me three times, and it made all the difference. I also got round without using my inhaler, which I would have never dreamed possible six months ago. The sight of Big Ben and the finish line will stay with me forever, as will the weight of the medal around my neck. Priceless.
It was back in August that I applied for the place on the Asthma UK team, and was fortunate enough to get chosen.
Over the last eight months, my friends and family have helped me raise £2000, which will be used well by Asthma UK.
I always wanted to run the London Marathon, and on 17th April 2011 I did it, finishing in 6 hours, 29 minutes and 28 seconds.
Thank you for sharing the journey with me.
Jas x