Some background

For years I have watched the London Marathon and been moved to tears (I cry easily!) by people's courage and achievements, and thought "I'd love to have a go" but been too much of a coward to do anything seriously about it. In my thirties I applied two or three times for a place but didn't get one so kind of gave up. Then this year, realising that 2014 would be the last opportunity to do it before I turn 50, and prompted by a Facebook friend who is a very keen runner and was excitedly counting down to the ballot opening, I gave it another go - completed the ballot entry form, pinged off my entry fee (donating it so that when I didn't get in I'd at least get a nice waterproof jacket) and promptly forgot all about it.

Over the summer I did a bit of jogging as part of my vague trying to keep fit routine, and it was all going sporadically but ok until one evening in July, while waiting for son number one at Tae Kwon Do, I did a "run" along the Basingstoke Canal towpath in St John's (only about four miles and I walked half of it), it was a lovely evening and I felt pretty good. The following morning, however, I couldn't put any weight on my left foot and realised I'd suffered a sudden reoccurrence of the plantar fasciitis (Google it...) I'd previously had in my right foot but had managed to clear by dint of lots of calf stretching and squidgy shoe insoles. This felt much worse though, and so I told myself that running was not for me, I should accept my age and frailties and do more suitable exercises such as swimming and gentle walking and old lady aerobics.

Then, the week before we went on holiday at the end of September, and out of the blue (a: I had almost forgotten about it and b: had I even remembered, I thought the ballot was in October) a magazine landed on my doormat:

Eek!