Day 1 of 10 - Like a lamb to the slaughter ;o)

When we went down to the hall in the morning, Joss Naylor was already there. I gave him a big hug because he's the man I want to be when I grow up. He assessed the amount of flesh covering my ribs as if I were a Herdwick going to market, pronounced me to be in need of full-body thermals and gloves, and checked my F-Lites to make sure they wouldn't rub my ankles.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's go back to last night. We had an early night, although a spectacular thunderstorm meant it took me a little time to fall asleep.

This morning, Leon was up before the alarm clock to make some of his excellent porridge, which only fell short of his usual standard because there was no full-cream milk in the kitchen, a situation which should be remedied by today. Amy the Physio arrived, and a queue formed for treatment. I didn't want fixing because I wasn't broken, so I did all the washing-up until there was none left, then wandered down to the road with Leon to see what the weather was like at the start.

It was slightly windy. "This'll do," we agreed.

Then the rain came on. Not a decorous drizzle, but full-on stair-rodding from a sky that looked as if it had enough of the same to last all day. "I'm expecting to hear that it's been cancelled," said Michelle, while Adam provided the quote of the day by telling Amy that he wasn't really a runner.

You'll recognise me in the start-line photos. I'm the one wearing the raincoat. It stayed on for almost 14 miles, too. No point stressing my immune system by getting cold and wet on Day 1. It's not as if I can rest tomorrow.

The support for this event is awesome. Not a "skeleton crew" at all. There are two physios patrolling the course in well-stocked cars, Steve's wife Theresa in another car, and Aly's husband Mac on a bike. We make up our drinks the night before, and they're taken in crates and left at strategic points every two miles or so along the course. Some people had a drink in every crate. Since the forecast wasn't for a heatwave, I put isotonic drink in the Mile 10 and Mile 17 crates, water in the Mile 22 crate, and a handful of Werthers Originals in my pocket. Leon and I have deliberately trained ourselves to get round a marathon without needing a picnic on the way.

And the course itself ... well, I still love it :o)

From the start, six fast boys - Steve, Adam, Leon, Mark, Adam and Tim - left the rest of us eating dust.

I set out to run at an easy pace, and mostly managed to stick to that plan. I did stiffen up a little around Mile 19, but you wouldn't spot it from my mile splits and within a few miles I was running comfortably again. Nothing hurt. I didn't feel thirsty or unwell despite only having a swig from each of my bottles of isotonic drink and a few Werthers on the way. I did have some mild complaints from my bowel, but managed to fob it off with promises until after the finish.

The finish. Yes. 3:52:02 by my Garmin (official time awaited). Scott Umpleby told me that I was seventh. I haven't been that high up the rankings since I came fifth in a Race for Life, and there were four women ahead of me in that one. He also told me that Leon had finished ages ago and had had his lunch already.

Lunch was a plate of a very substantial salad - think quiche, pork pie and potatoes, not lettuce and tomato. Excellent post-marathon food, except for committed salad-dodgers like me. "Could I have a sandwich?" I asked, before seeing some tuna and pasta in mayonnaise lurking within the salad platter and asking for a big helping of that. Perfect :o)

Now, three hours and one warm shower later, I think I'm fine.

Tomorrow will be the REAL test!