As part of #BeALittleKinder month we are going to be giving away a Fitbit Flex HR worth £99 to one lucky person who carries out a random act of kindness!

All you need to do to be in with a chance of winning is #BeALittleKinder and tell us about it on Facebook and/or Twitter, using the hashtag (#BeALittleKinder), where possible, please include photos!

Your act of kindness could be anything from buying  a homeless person a warm lunch, leaving a surprise box of chocolates in the office for everyone to enjoy on their lunch break, delivering flowers to a friend or maybe volunteering with a local charity for a few hours. It doesn't have to be a grand, expensive gesture but just something that makes the recipient smile. 

We want to hear about the tea round you've just made for a frantic colleague, the sweet text you've sent to remind someone that you love them or maybe the random £2 donation you made to a charity collector whilst doing your Christmas shopping.

To enter, post on our Facebook wall, www.facebook.com/TeamRun12 or Tweet us at www.twitter.com/Team_Run12. 

The winner will be contacted on January 4th, the prize will be sent by Saturday 9th January 2016. 

This December, Team Run 12 are asking you to spread Christmas spirit by 'Being A Little Kinder'.

In a world where bullying is all too common in schools, offices and 'friendship' groups, where people are still sleeping rough, going hungry and have no access to clean water, where individuals are willing to hurt and upset others to better themselves, we believe there is room for a little bit of kindness.

Your act of kindness does not have to be a large or expensive gesture, but should spread positivity and happiness to those around you. 

We are asking you to do one kind thing, every single day this December. Using the hashtag, #BeALittleKinder on Twitter and Facebook we want you to share your stories of kindness (Tweet us directly or leave a message on our Facebook wall).

We will be posting weekly blogs about our acts of kindness, and favourite stories from you. Please join us and #BeALittleKinder this December.

Here are some ideas to get you started: 

1. Compliment someone - low self esteem is very common nowadays! 
2. When ordering coffee, pay for the person behind you, without them knowing. 
3. Give up your seat on the train, not just for a pregnant or elderly person, but for someone 'just because'.
4. Offer a homeless person lunch or a bottle of water.
5. Send a text to a friend to remind them how much you love them.
6. Write an inspiring quote on a post it note and stick it inside a book at Waterstones.
7. Help peel potatoes and carrots on Christmas Day.
8. Make coffee for everyone in your office, especially if you don't normally make a round!
9. Lend your umbrella to someone when it rains.
10. Put a note in your child or loved one's lunch box to make them smile.
11. Let another car merge in to the queue in front of you, no matter how long you've been trying to get home.
12. Offer to take a photo for a tourist.
13. Wish a 'good morning' to those you pass on your daily dog walk or run. 
14. Anonymously donate a few pounds to a friend who is raising money for charity.
15. Clear out your wardrobe and donate items of clothing you no longer use to your local charity shop. 
16. Call your Grandparents.
17. Bring your partner coffee in bed.
18. Send a Christmas Card to your elderly neighbor, even if you never speak.
19. Compliment someone on how hard they've worked on a recent project at work.
20. Smile. Because sometimes that's all it takes.

Team Run 12 are back, and we are now here to make a real difference. 

We've had a rest for ten months and I have to say it was a well earned and much needed break. Team Run 12 have kept in touch, and have always been the 'Team Run 12 Family'. Despite a few hundred miles being between some of us, we speak nearly daily and meet up regularly. Nothing much has changed since the last finish line in Portsmouth. 

Now, nearly a year on Mark and I have taken the reigns and decided to bring Team Run 12 back on a much bigger scale and I would absolutely love if you (yes you, reading this!) would consider joining me. You can read more about that, a few paragraphs down (I-Spy the words '24-Hour and MUDDY)! 

Since 2013, with the support of my amazing family and friends, we've raised over £37,428.45 (figure does not contain gift aid) for Breast Cancer Care, Cancer Research UK and CoppaFeel. 
My intention, with the support of Mark, Meg, Ali and YOU, is to increase that figure to £100,000. 

We will continue to raise money for Breast Cancer Care and CoppaFeel as they are two charities incredibly close to my heart. But we are also looking at selecting two further charities to benefit from just over £15,000 from us.

If you have a cause you feel we should be raising money for, please get in touch. I would like these charities to be able to restrict our funding so we can pay for something specific (for example, the redecoration of a teenage cancer ward or keeping a telephone line open to support those with mental health problems). To tell us about your charity, please click here. 

Now, down to the muddy stuff!
To raise the first £15,000 towards our BIG £100k target, we are going to be taking part in a 24-Hour Run at the end of July 2016. We are looking to build a team of 32 runners to join us.

There are several elements to this so if you are a newbie runner (or don't even own a pair of trainers yet, don't switch off, this can work for you too) or a very experienced runner you can take part.

The requirements are as follows:

• You will be over the age of 18 by Saturday 23rd July 2016
• You can commit to running at least one 9km lap (that's it - just nine kilometers!) or up to 90km if you're crazy, like Mark and I.
• You're willing to raise a minimum of £500 towards our £100,000 target and cover your own entry fee and expenses for the event 

We will be submitting several teams to the event (made up of our 32 runners) who will be lead by four team leaders - myself, Mark, Meg and Ali. As the race is a relay, no more than one person in each team can be on the course at any one time but that's the beauty of having several Team Run 12 teams - you'll never be alone!

Challenge yourself to running just one lap, one lap every 8-9 hours, one lap every other hour or a lap every hour for the whole 24 hours. Whatever you want to do, you will be welcomed with open arms by the Team Run 12 leaders and supported through your personal 24-hour run journey.

If you want to register your interest or are sold and want to sign up, you can do so by clicking here. 

We hope to see as many of you as possible over the next year. If you see the Team Run 12 logo at a race, please stop and say hello. It's always a pleasure to meet people who have supported us so far and I hope many of you will become part of the close knit family I have made as a result of founding Team Run 12 back in 2013. 

See you at the finish line.
Bexx.

A petition has been launched to reinstate all of the drugs removed from the Cancer Drugs Fund in September 2015. The UK Government announced the removal of a huge number of life preserving drugs from the Cancer Drugs Fund list of agreed treatments. 

This means that those diagnosed with cancer, and particularly late stage cancer, have less treatment options than ever before. Meaning less people will go in to remission, lives will be shorter and the fatality rate will increase. 

It takes less than one minute to sign this petition and will prolong and save many lives if reinstated. 

Sign the petition here:  https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/107548 

Firstly, let me say sorry that I never got round to writing the final blog post in the 12 marathon diary (I will write a brief update after posting this, honest). After finishing the final marathon, I found myself emotional, drained and generally just knackered (but blister free, at last). It has taken me a long time to recognise and digest Team Run 12's achievements; running that many miles was an achievement but raising over £26,000 for Breast Cancer Care and Cancer Research UK was even more rewarding, not to mention overwhelming and humbling. 

Words still fail me when I try to explain the generosity of everyone who supported me throughout the year, not just my incredible family and friends but individuals I have never been lucky enough to meet (through twitter and friends of those who have tirelessly spread the Team Run 12 message). If you donated or wished us luck at any stage last year, thank you so much for being part of something so special. I hope to always be the girl ‘that ran all those marathons back in 2014’.

I ran my first marathon back in 2013, on the whim of a family member being diagnosed with secondary breast cancer. I was devastated but found pounding the pavements to be therapeutic. After completing my first marathon I found myself overwhelmed, many people suggested I had the 'post-marathon blues' but those closest to me knew it was much more than this. As I went on to create and grow Team Run 12 I found that the brightest moments in life can be found in the darkest places. I have been lucky enough to take comfort in the achievements we made, the people we bought together and personally, to recognise that I am in better mental and physical shape than I have ever been before. 

For an entire year, I did nothing but make incredible memories with the people closest to me. We lost and gained some team members along the way but most importantly built friendships stronger than anything I've ever experienced. We laughed, so much, we often cried (happy tears) we battled through pain and discomfort to achieve a goal that proves that if you are determined to do something you will do it.

To those who held me up last year, and continue to keep me moving forwards today, thank you. You do not realise how much you have given me and I am incredibly excited to see what the future holds for us.  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So after nearly nine months of not pestering you all to support our tireless fundraising, I am delighted that we are now able to relaunch Team Run 12. Whilst there are no enormous challenges set in stone (yet), there are many ideas floating around and the challenge of actually training for a half marathon and various individual marathons are well underway.

I am also delighted to announce that since 2013, we have raised £39,871.15 (correct as of 21/08/2015 at 15:42) by completing the London Marathon and 12 Marathons in 12 Months and are now working towards the 2015 Royal Parks Half Marathon and 2016 London Marathon. As a collective, we plan to continue fundraising whilst training, running and hosting a range of events. We will also soon be announcing how YOU can get involved and be part of Team Run 12. 

For now, please consider donating towards our latest fundraising efforts in aid of CoppaFeel (click here) and stay tuned for more announcements around the future of Team Run 12. 

Full details of all forthcoming races and fundraisers are available on the homepage.

On the surface of this race there are few words but 'muddy', 'frustrating' and 'disappointing' to describe it but when I delve a little bit deeper in to my reflections of the 29th November I can tell a whole different story to the one I thought I was experiencing.

Ali and I took on a race which was destined to never be easy: a cross-country, incredibly hilly mud-fest on the eve of December. As first marathons go, I honestly believe that Ali has the story to end all horror stories. What happened to us on that day is something I'd never wish on anyone and I really hope that it hasn't completely destroyed his expectations for the year, given all the hard work he has put in despite painful injuries. I was very lucky to have Ali with me, whenever I reached the verge of tears he would share my frustrations and we'd laugh together, imagining the hot baths and cocktails we could enjoy when it was all over. 

Like every other race this year, the TrailScape Marathon was entirely unique and there is little I would change about the experience as once again I learned things about myself I may have otherwise, never discovered. Namely, that I am disgustingly stubborn. 

We were on home turf for the 11th race which would take us across the 'grand' Kent Countryside. I very rarely run on trails as I'm a bit of a girl when it comes to mud. Infact, when I took my trail shoes out of their box they were still encrusted with mud from the Cambridge Boundary Run (my third marathon of the year back in March), which shows how often they get put to use. The last few weeks had been nothing but rain, wind and more rain but thankfully the sun was shining brightly when we all met in St Michael's Church Hall, Cuxton. We were soon to learn that sunshine unfortunately doesn't mean that mud miraculously disappears! 

Meg, Mark and Dan were going to be running the half marathon on the same day so we were expecting plenty of support on course and to welcome us back at the end of the race. We were all kitted up in our Team Run 12 vests, being snapped at by various photographers from the local press and the event organisers who had have been great supporters of the Team Run 12 initiative. With very little warning, Ali and I were pushed to the start line. Mark had only just arrived and had organised first aid kits, foil blankets and whistles for us to carry - part of our mandatory kit - but the rush meant we didn't get time to take them from him. Ali and I laughed at the thought of even needing any of this 'mandatory' kit and were smug that we didn't have to carry any excess weight for the next 26 miles.

Hills and Horses.
As we disappeared out of eye sight of the 'support crew', leaving behind Dan's bellowing voice of 'BYEEE BEXXXX, BYEEE ALIIIII', we were immediately greeted by ankle deep mud and plenty of puddles. The crowd of around 30 runners stuck together for the first two miles, all getting lost due to some awful signage in the first 2 kilometres. The crowd started to thin out as we made our ascent up a steep hill. Ali and I stopped at the bottom to stroke a horse that was roaming around the fields. I am notoriously terrified of horses and this one was no exception. I swear it wanted to bite me for even thinking about petting it. After a quick selfie, we started to climb the hill. 'My calves are in bits' Ali said, 'Ditto'. The hills were not gentle but great steep climbs, we would have benefited from walking sticks and boots! 

My watch beeped to tell us we were approaching the eleventh mile, we were both looking pretty good, if a bit muddy, and were wondering more how Meg, Dan and Mark were getting on than what the rest of the course had in store for us. The signs were, at times, very difficult to follow and we could run 500 metres without even seeing a 'buff ribbon' which we'd been told to look out for throughout the course to keep us on track. Having seen Karen, Darren and Ellie en route we had no fear that we were making good progress. We battled up one hill that was so steep we had to climb up it on our hands and knees, constantly fearful of literally falling backwards. 

Ali had fallen over once already after trying to remove some mud from his shoes on a dusty pathway, his side covered in chalk, luckily we still didn't have a need for the first aid kit we'd been told that we needed. 

We finally spotted a marshal at what I was led to believe was the 13th mile, 'No no, this is mile 10' the marshal told us, I looked at my watch again, we'd definitely covered more ground than that and hadn't seen any other runners in a long while. I questioned the marshal who assured us that we were just ten miles in. Disheartened and a little bit deflated we plodded on, running when we could, climbing when we had to and wadding through mud when there was no other option

That's It. We're Lost. 
After what seemed like an eternity of treacherous muddy paths, chalky fields and even a small swamp, we found ourselves running down a country lane. We picked up our pace, stretching our legs and enjoying a mile at our fastest speed yet. At a T-Junction, Ali looked left, then right, then to me confused as there was no arrow pointing us in the right direction. 'The sign must have blown down, that goes towards Meopham, lets go that way'. I followed Ali as he continued down the winding country lanes, after about a kilometre we stopped again, we hadn't seen any signage for a long time and were starting to worry. I made a phone call to the race directors who explained we'd come off course and to turn back around. Having covered an additional three miles already, this is the last thing we wanted. 

We jogged back up to the T-Junction, by now we were both frustrated, upset and desperate to see more mud - that may, at least, mean we were back on the right track. With a near empty water bottle we made the decision to stop in a pub we'd seen 'The Amazon and Tiger'. The kind owners filled our water bottles, offered us bananas and gels (the landlord was also a runner) and tried to help us decipher our map. 'You're going to cover about 18 more miles if you get back on track,' the look of horror must have shown on our faces as the landlady tried to explain the course to Ali. 'Come on, i'll give you a lift back to the church' she said, digging her hand in to her pocket for her car keys. 'No. No. NO.' I said, probably more abruptly than I should have to someone who was only trying to help us, 'I'm sorry, I just can't give up, I have to finish the race', I explained the concept of Team Run 12 to them and they wished us well as we left again. 

When Determination Kicks In... 
After about an hour, we found ourselves back on an path way littered with arrows and ribbons, as if they'd been blown off. The marshalls cheered as we finally pulled in to the 12 mile stop point - having clocked nearly 17 miles. 'Do you want a lift back?' they asked, again we refused, this time with far less want to finish the course, before continuing to plod on through fields full of sheep, up steep hills and over electric fences. 

Approaching another T-Junction we were greeted by two arrows, pointing in opposite directions. We stopped to video the signs to show everyone what we'd been dealing with. By now, Ali and I were both so angry with how our race was going. How could anyone mess up signs this badly? My watch beeped as we randomly selected to go left. Up a hill we passed some walkers, 'we've seen people like you, towns about 4 miles that way, head there'. We'd covered nearly 22 miles and still hadn't found the 18 mile marshals.

I called Dan when we realised we'd come off course again. They'd just finished a 14.5 mile run (a little bit off being a half marathon!), after a quick congratulations I started to panic. Dan reassured me that we'd make it when my phone signal cut out again, as it intermittently appeared, I received dozens of texts and missed calls. 
A search and rescue team had been sent out to look for us. 

The Longest 5km Known To Man...
After what seemed like an eternity, we saw another marshal. She looked relieved to see us and promised to call ahead to let everyone know we were safe and on course to make it back in about 4 miles time. We climbed another fence and were greeted by a '5km to go sign'. I looked down at my watch, 'Ali... We've done 28.6 miles'. With his hamstring giving him grief, he trudged on, continuing to attempt to run where possible and jumping over fences to keep on the course.

After another two miles we found two more marshals, sat at the bottom of the evilest hill I'd ever seen (see picture below) who explained search and rescue were still out looking for us, they promised to call and let everyone know we were safe. 'You've only got 5km to go' one said. WHAT? That was the case nearly 5km ago! Realising that a TrailScape mile didn't quite equate to a real mile, we ploughed on. Tears pricked my eyes, three miles seemed an eternity when we had already come so far.

'I can't do this. I want to stop', I text Dan. I couldn't bring myself to say the words outloud incase Ali agreed. I started to jog ahead of him, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears in my eyes and lump in my throat as I swallowed back an embarrassing desire to give up. 

The Ultimate Relief 
Around 3 miles later we bumped in to another group of marshals who'd been sent to look for us. They shouted out to us as they saw us approaching to check we were okay, 'We can't stop. We have to keep running, our legs won't work otherwise'. I wasn't lying, we were both exhausted, drained and dehydrated. Given we'd come so far off course and were approaching our 32nd mile, the lady was shocked to hear my response!

The other marshal was on the phone to someone back at the finish line 'They'll be about 10, maybe 15 minutes' he said, assessing the slow, plodding pace we were maintaining. Ali and I looked at each other in despair, 15 minutes meant another mile. 

'Count backwards from 60' I said to Ali. '60, 59, 58...' he continued down to zero then questioned why on earth I'd made him do that. 'That's one minute down, 14 to go'. A few minutes later, I could hear noise. I thought I was hallucinating, having earlier on thought I'd spotted Beth at the gate of a field. So the relief that washed over me  to see Dan standing waiting for us at the edge of the woods was unbearable. I broke in to what felt like a sprint and threw myself in to his arms, tears welling my eyes. He took my hand, then took Alis when he approached us, starting to jog with us. 'You want to run?' he asked, 'Come on, we'll run together'. 

We plodded on, as we came out of the woodland, the loudest cheer erupted from everyone waiting for us. Tears welled in my eyes, 'Come on Ali, come on', I grabbed his hand and we crossed the finish arch together.  I collapsed in to Meg's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Over 6.5 hours, 32 miles and a whole load of mud, we'd made it. The race organisers explained that some children had been found on course removing signs, moving them and turning them around which had caused us to go so far off course. We couldn't be angry at anyone, we just had to accept the race for what it had been. An ultra-marathon. 

Just 26.2 Miles To Go. 
As we approach the final race my emotions are so mixed. I've said this month after month but as I type this I'm just five days from the final finish line: just 26.2 miles stand between me and succeeding with this challenge. 

I'm so incredibly proud of everything that Team Run 12 has become. When I announced that I wanted to take on this challenge in 2013, I put myself in a risky position. I was throwing myself in to the unknown, preparing to push my body and mentality to its absolute limits and risking very public failure - in front of those who believed in me more than I believed in myself and in front of those who laughed at the idea of me even making it half way. 

It was ludicrous, I even doubted myself. In fact, I've doubted myself the entire way through this year; its taken a long time for me to proud of what we've achieved and feel as though I have created something valuable, something that I can now see has bought people together, made people stronger and challenged people in ways they never thought possible. 

Talent is irrelevant. Hard work, determination, a pinch of stubbornness and the want to try are the key to success. Life is comfortable and we, all too often, fail to challenge ourselves; we rarely commit to anything we feel may lead to 'failure'. Taking a risk has been the most satisfying experience of my life so far and I will be eternally grateful for the support I've received.

My family could have turned around and told me to not be so ridiculous when I suggested this was something I wanted to do, instead they have been there. They've begged for raffle prizes and sponsorship, they've told everyone they meet about the Team Run 12 vision, they've laughed, they've cried but most importantly they've held my hand when I've lost belief in my ability to put one foot in front of the other. 

In 2015, break the mould. Do something that scares you, even if it's just once. Do something bold, brave and out of character. Now is the time to join the gym, learn a new language, tell someone you love them or find a new job. Whatever it is, do it now. Life is for living, not surviving or getting by. Make a change. Be the best version of you, and please, please, take the time to tell me about it. 

Note: This trip was entirely self funded. Every penny donated goes to our charities. 

For my entire life I've dreamed of going to New York so deciding to travel over 3000 miles for my tenth marathon was an easy decision. I've worked hard this year to achieve everything I have so having this trip to look forward to was a great way to keep me motivated. In the weeks leading up to our departure date I honestly thought Dan might decide not to come with me because of my uncontrollable levels of excitement. 

We arrived at our hotel at around 2pm on the Thursday and immediately set out to explore. Diving in and out of shops, taking in the crowd and the lights; we spent a lot of the first few hours not saying a word to one another because we were just so mesmerised by our surroundings. 

By 3am I was awake ready to get up and get going. I laid in bed trying desperately to rest but my excitement to continue exploring the city kept me away. By 6am I gave in and got up and ready for the day ahead. We went a little bit over board and walked, I'd estimate, between 10-13miles. Seeing the 9/11 memorial was incredibly moving, we wandered across Brooklyn Bridge and spent the evening in a real downtown bar drinking vodka/champagne cocktails. The highlight of our Friday was meeting Karen and Kevin (Thing 1 and Thing 2) at the Halloween Parade in Greenwich. We stood talking for about 35 minutes, they were impressed by the Team Run 12 challenge and we exchanged Facebook details to keep in touch, Kevin was particularly keen to hear what I thought of the NYC marathon so I'm sure he'll be enjoying this post :)! 

I'd developed a pain in the arch of my foot whilst stood in the crowd. I can only put it down to uncomfortable boots and an insane amount of walking - to emphasise how much we walked, my toe nail came off - before i'd even run! We met up with Richard and Holly for dinner, it was great to see another familiar face and Richard having a spectating plan put my mind at rest that I might just see them. 

On Saturday we decided to take things a little bit easier, we went for a wander around the Natural History Museum which was pretty boring before visiting a cafe called 'The Little Owl' which is underneath the infamous FRIENDS flats! We had a few too many G&Ts for a pre-race day, topped off with an enormous serving of Ben & Jerries before going to the 'Top of the Rock' and having a beautiful rooftop dinner. 

The trip was flying past, it felt like we hadn't sat down since we arrived so before I knew it, it was RACE DAY! At 4:45am I was awake, nervous but ready to run. Dan walked downstairs to the hotel lobby with me, I felt really grateful as he stood waiting for us to leave for the coaches to the start line as everyone else seemed to be alone. A quick cuddle and good luck and I was out on the freezing cold, and pitch black, streets of New York. It's odd being surrounded by so many people at 5:30am. The walk down 42nd street passed quickly, I'd started talking to a girl named Emma. We boarded the coaches outside the NYC Public Library and attempted to get a little bit more sleep. The race wasn't due to start until 10:30am so we had a while before we'd even get moving.

You know you're cold when you want to stay inside a Portaloo...
The sun came up quickly and whilst most people around me were in a light state of sleep, I was still mesmerised by the city, staring out the window at all the sights we passed. As we neared the start line area I started to realise how enormous this race is. Coaches upon coaches of people were lined up waiting, thousands of people were already queued up for security checks. We joined the queue and after getting through airport style security started wandering around looking for somewhere to get coffee. It was so cold my entire body was shaking. Half of the runners were wrapped in duvets or wearing ski suits, the other half, like me, had nothing but our running gear and an extra jacket on. 
 
Sipping artificial tasting hot chocolate to try and keep warm, Emma and I sat against a fence, we made a make shift bed out of a blanket she had bought with her and wrapped ourselves in my spare coat. I looked at the time, 7:10am. We still had over 3 hours until we could line up to start. My phone buzzed, Dan checking that I was okay, I didn't want to tell him how cold I really was, my lips had started to go blue and I'd spent as long as I possibly could in the portable toilets because they were warmer than being outside. Disgusting but warm.

10am finally came round, I jumped out of my skin as two huge bangs went off behind me. Momentarily, I panicked but quickly realised it was just a start gun as a huge cheer washed over the crowd, the elite runners were crossing the bridge. Seeing the excitement in everyone around me made me even more desperate to start. Time seemed to stand still until finally my pen was called to the start line. 

I was shaking as I joined the enormous start line crowd. I put my headphones in to calm me down, ironically 'Let It Go' by Frozen came on in my ears. I couldn't help but laugh at the lyrics 'the cold never bothered me anyway'. Frozen always reminds me of Meg, it was almost like she was having a little joke with me over how cold I was, but spurring me on too. I really really wished they were with us. 

I want to be a part of it, New York, New York.
The double gun fire made me jump again, I took my headphones out and started to walk towards the start line. The police and security were the only people allowed near the start but their laughter and well-wishes really added to the atmosphere. The first three miles of the race are across the Verrazana-Narrows Bridge and with strong winds it wasn't going to be the easiest start. At times I thought my feet were going to be blown from underneath me. I was being knocked sideways, people's jackets were actually being blown off their backs. I had to really focus on my footing.

As I crossed the bridge in to Brooklyn. the atmosphere changed. The bridge was closed to the public, so you're very alone as every runner attempts to warm up and get in to a pace. The streets of Brooklyn, however, were crazy. Every inch of the streets were lined, the crowds were 10 people deep, locals hung off their porches and out of windows to cheer 'You're started now, you're going to finish! Good luck!' Everywhere you looked people had crazy home made signs, New Yorkers really love their marathon. 

By 10km I'd settled well in to my pace, the atmosphere was carrying me through and I was maintaining steady 9:50 minute miles. I felt strong, no part of my body ached and I wasn't even bothered by the consistent inclines we were running up. Marines lined one of the streets, so many runners stopped to shake their hands, hug them, thanking them for their service. I've never seen anything like it but it was incredible to witness such a sense of community - something we really lack in the UK. I high five'd a few of them and they cheered 'YOU GO BRIT GIRL' (I had a union jack on the back of my vest) as I ran on.

Stopping isn't an option in New York, especially when you drop $50!
I was 2 miles away from seeing Dan, Richard and Holly when the crowds started to really grow. One in every three people had a motivational poster with them, people dressed as bananas were dancing as they dished out wedges of banana, it's honestly like running through the world's biggest street party. 

'Keep moving baby girl' (I've never been called that before) one lady cheered, 'Looking great honny!' another screamed, I couldn't help but laugh to myself. Taking a gel out of my pocket, I dropped the $50 note that I'd kept incase I needed to get a taxi back to the hotel. The wind caught it and it blew further down the street. Anyone who spotted me trying to catch it would have had a great laugh, about 3/4 of a mile up the road I finally managed to stamp on it. That was lucky. 

I was amazed to spot Dan, Richard and Holly easily in the crowds at mile 10. I was still maintaining a perfect pace and a quick cuddle was exactly what I needed. As I started to run on Richard called out that they'd see me at mile 20. 10 more miles. 

The support and enthusiasm of every person watching is just indescribable. I ran through red traffic lights with everyone around us singing 'STOP HAMMER TIME' every time the lights changed and the entire city bouncing to 'Turn Down for What' by Lil Jon which was being blared out of someone's street level bedroom window.  

Approaching 19 miles I knew the worst parts were over, I'd flown through the half way mark in record time, battled the long, uphill climb across one of the connecting bridges and though I'd slowed a little bit my pace was still fairly consistent. At 20 miles my eyes were darting everywhere, I was desperate to spot Dan again. Around half a mile in I still hadn't seem them. Maybe they'd missed me, I was a lot quicker than normal today, or maybe I just hadn't spotted them amongst the crowds. I was feeling pretty gutted, all I wanted was a cuddle. As if by magic, stood under a bridge just before the 21st mile, I spotted Holly holding the camera up. Dan spotted me and cheered and after the little I needed, I had the confidence to finish this marathon the strongest I'd ever been. Just before I ran on, Richard said they'd see me at the 25th mile mark. 5 miles. I had this down.

I grabbed a slice of orange around the 23 mile to keep me moving. My legs were growing more and more tired but I was scared if I stopped to walk that I'd be picked up by four random spectators by each arm and leg and then beaten for giving up. I pushed as hard as I could, allowing myself a one minute walk up a steep hill in to central park, then it was time to give it all I had.

A personal best isn't just about time.
The final .2 miles of the race sometimes seem to go on forever. I had done so well, I was 35 minutes ahead of a personal best for the year and due to cross the finish line in around 2 minutes time. The cheers from everyone was incredible, people were starting to sprint, I was gearing myself up for my final stretch when I spotted a lady struggling. She was visibly shaking, couldn't walk in a straight line and looked as though she was going to burst in to tears. I remembered my experience in London when someone had stopped to help me at the 18th mile. I couldn't leave this lady behind.

I grabbed her hand, 'Come on' I told her, 'We've got this together'. She looked at me shocked, 'No, no, please keep going, don't ruin your race' she said to me. 'No, come on, we're finishing this'. She held my hand tighter than I can explain and somehow her legs started to work again. 'Don't give up, we're so close'. She smiled at me and I could see tears in her eyes. We crossed the finish line hand in hand, 'Congratulations, you've done it!' I told her, she asked my name as a volunteer approached to make sure she was ok. I walked away, relieved to have helped her and ECSTATIC to have finished my tenth marathon in 4:39:41 (by my watch). 

Finish Line Thank Yous...
I waited for Dan, Richard and Holly on the steps of the Natural History Museum. Seeing Dan run towards me was the greatest feeling. I'll probably get told off for a public display of affection but thank you doesn't quite do justice when people are willing to fly across the world to support you. I couldn't ask for anyone more supportive, and determined to push me to succeed, than Dan. And really, I have him to thank for wiping those 20 minutes off my time as I've spent the last few weeks chasing him in training runs. Dan, thank you, for coming to New York, for supporting me with every crazy idea, for spoiling me rotten and for giving me a ray of light beyond this challenge. 2015 here we come :) x

I started this race with a team of six - three of whom were complete strangers. Eleven months in, I'm coming to the end of the challenge but I've gained a family. Not just in the runners but in their families too. 

Having Dan, Richard and Holly fly across the world to support me was such an honour and when I turned my phone on at the end to over 170 messages of support, I was just overwhelmed. If you sent me a good luck or a congratulations, thank you so much. I could not ask for more from everyone involved in this challenge; some people didn't believe I'd make it this far but failure was never an option. 

Now the end is in sight, and the experience of a lifetime has been had, I'm starting to think beyond the final two marathons, in to 2015, what I'll do next and where I will be this time next year. Life is what you make it. I've made this year the best yet and I can only hope that some of you will have been inspired by what we've achieved this year. Aim to do more of what you love and do it only for you. 

We have less than £4,800 to go until we hit our £25,000 target. Please donate by clicking here. 

I am writing this blog post in a similar state of emotions as I finished the ninth marathon. With tears in my eyes and pride radiating from me. As I started to write this entry, someone made a donation of £100, taking our fundraising over £19,000.

In 2013, I started running. With 88 days to learn to run - with zero running ability behind me - I then  completed the London Marathon and donated over £11,000 to Breast Cancer Care.

Now, ten months in to this 12 marathons in 12 months challenge, we have raised over £19,000. Taking our grand total donated so far to over £31,000. Thank you so much to everyone who has made this possible, every donation £1 to £100 is helping me achieve goals that, just a few months ago, I could never have even dreamed of. 

Marathon number 9 of 12 was the best yet. Not because of the course, the time or how we felt but because I had Meg by my side. Here's my account of the Bournemouth Marathon 2014. 

We left for Bournemouth around 4pm on the Saturday, Meg was already moaning. She had something in her eye, she was nervous, she felt sick, she didn't want to eat the carbs. I knew exactly how she was feeling, I'd been there eight times before. For some reason, I wasn't nervous I was just really looking forward to sharing the following day with Meg.

Meg and I are notoriously close. She is by far the best friend I have and unlike most sisters we just don't really argue (unless I've 'borrowed' something from her wardrobe for more than six weeks...).

I've been lucky enough to run her first mile, first 5km, first 10km and first half marathon with her. I was actually disappointed to not be part of her longest training run. Seeing her suffering from pre-race nerves added to the excitement for what the following day had in store for us. We've been through some great things and some really heartbreaking things as a family but we've always had one consistent - each other. 

The following morning we scoffed down some breakfast, laughed at photographs of Dan in his pants wedged between two twin beds in our hotel room and attempted (and failed) to drink beetroot juice. 

Standing hand in hand by the start line, I could tell Meg's nerves weren't subsiding. She'd made it this far, I knew she'd make it through the 26.2 mile course. With final hugs, we started to walk towards the start line. 

It only took 3 miles for Meg to get in to her stride, we were pointing at cute home decor shops as we ran through the high street, giving high-5s to kids who lined the streets. As always, I had one headphone in. Music really is my savior with running and I can spend hours pouring over playlists that work well to keep me moving. 'Let it Go' by Frozen came on, I unplugged my headphones so Meg could hear the music. Two girls behind us laughed, 'You kind of look like the Frozen Sisters'. I don't think they quite expected us to burst in to full sing-a-long but we did. 

We were approaching the fifth mile when runners on the 9th mile started coming back towards us. Not a good sign for a marathon course. I was distracted by the thought of spotting Brian in his union jack shorts. It was odd to know he was running but not with me after supporting me in three races this year. Brian was chasing a sub 3:30 time; I was scanning the crowds trying to spot him. Out of no where a flurry of British Flag and waving arms appeared. We cheered him and he called out to check we were okay. 

The miles started to merge in to one another. A man running for Breakthrough Breast Cancer dressed as an oversized jigsaw piece overtook us around the 11th mile. "I've just been overtaken by a jigsaw and there's STILL something in my eye", Meg was managing to laugh now and take in the atmosphere. I was disappointed that she didn't have her name on her t-shirt as everyone was shouting my name and following it up with 'and Bexx's friend'. 

I was starting to be bothered by a blister in the arch of my foot - something I've suffered with for the last ten months. We were approaching the half way point when Dan called to see where we were, before he could get a word in I was begging him to get me some vaseline. Slightly disgusted he hung up with promises that we'd see everyone again in 3-4 miles time. 

Making our way through the course, Meg was a few paces behind me. "Keep moving" she told me "I'm right behind you". I actually had neck ache by the time we finished from checking she was still right with me. We'd stopped briefly with everyone for a much-needed vaseline pit-stop around the 16th mile. "Next time you see us you'll be approaching the finish line" Dan said. Meg looked relieved and we ran off up another pier before looping back down to the final 8 miles. 

Meg was getting stressed around the 19th mile. The course seemed to go on forever along the sea front, runners were looping back and coming up to the 25th mile, so they were looking pretty smug with themselves. 'We'll be there soon' I kept reminding her. 

As we approached what we thought was the end of the road, my Garmin lost signal, I had no idea what mile we were at so was gutted to see that the end of the road was actually just a turn on to an even longer loop. "How long till we turn around?" I asked a runner coming the other way, "about a mile" the woman replied. Meg gave her a death stare, a marshal then told us we only had about 500 metres to the end of the road. The marshal had no concept of distance at all as we ran over a mile until we finally approached the turn. I started singing to Meg again to try and boost her spirits - Spice Girls, Frozen, Backstreet Boys... People were staring as I pranced along the seafront.

The support never stopped. People walking along the beach cheered up 'you're nearly there girls', they clapped and encouraged us to keep going. Some of the races I've completed have had absolutely no spectators, so the support was incredibly welcome. As we hit the 26 mile sign, I grabbed Meg's hand. 'COME ON COME ON PUSH NOW' I skipped a little bit faster up the front, we were quickly surrounded by a huge crowd of people cheering and clapping. Meg grabbed her camera from Ed to film the end. All I could hear was the commentator congratulating me on my 9th of 12 marathons, I was desperately scanning the crowds for Mum and Dan but couldn't see them.  The wall of noise was incredible.

Holding Meg's hand she raised her arms above her head and we fell in to a hug as we stopped under the finish arch. I've never felt pride like I felt as I cuddled her close to me. 

All year round I've not understood why everyone makes such a fuss of me completing the marathons. I've never understood the 'I'm so proud of you' comments that Meg and Mum make, but now I understood. My little sister had completed a full marathon. 26.2 miles. My little sister is a marathon runner.

Our eyes welled up and we held hands as we approached the medal collection point. Watching Meg have her medal hung around her neck filled me with emotion again. This year has been such a blessing to us, it's made us appreciate so much and we've made so many incredible memories along the way. 

Meg, you have no idea how proud I am of what you've achieved this year. The fundraising, the training and the support you've given me have been second to none. You are the best friend I could ever ask for and I am so grateful that you've supported me from day one with what was just a crazy idea. I've said it before and I'll say it over and over again, no matter what life throws at us, we'll make it together. Love you always. x 

As this year goes on I find myself struggling more and more to articulate how I feel, then out of no where I'll find words that seem to make a small amount of sense. I've come to realise this... 

I see people in life who hate their jobs, they feel they've taken the wrong career path. I see people who are so wrapped up in making their lives seem glamorous online, that they are missing out on making real memories. I go to gigs and see others film the act through their phones, rather than absorbing the moment they're in. I see people pretending that they're happy when really all they want is to laugh more, to travel more and to enjoy life.

So ask yourself, what is it that you enjoy doing? Who do you like being around? Now forget everything else. Do more of what you love. Spend more time with the people who matter most to you. Tell them you love them. Hug them. Seize the day and stop trying to impress everyone else. You get one life, now is the day to live it. Stop waiting until Monday to start a diet. Stop putting off saving for the new car, holiday or your first home. Start living now because you've already wasted so much precious time. 

I'm guilty of not doing the above and will be making an effort to do this more - to put my phone down and pay attention to the conversations I'm having, to take more photos but print them rather than putting them on Facebook, to thank people more for helping me, and most importantly to tell the people I care about the most how much they mean to me.

If you've contributed to this year in any way, thank you. You've helped me reinvent myself, you've given me more confidence, you've made me believe that I can, you've shown me that when people work together and really want to make something happen, it will. 

Just three marathons to go, I've got this.

Please donate anything you can to Team Run 12, help us to achieve our £25,000 target by clicking here. 

For much of my life, I've wondered why someone wasn't doing more to help people in need. The children you see in Africa who have no access to clean water, those whose lives are cut short because of terminal illnesses, elderly people who just want some company on Christmas day, the list of people who need someone is endless. It's taken me 22 years to realise that I am someone and maybe I can be the somebody who really makes a difference.

Don't sit and wonder why someone isn't doing more. Be the person to do more. 

Every time I write these blogs I find it almost a cliche to say that this marathon was harder than the last. I'm now eight marathons in to the year and by a country mile (what does that even mean?! A mile is a mile!) this marathon was the most testing, grueling challenge yet. 

I was lucky enough to have the support of Mark for the entire two lap course and for the first half I had the backing of my amazing little sister, Meg. The lead up to the event had been great; I was looking forward to spending a few hours with Mark and Meg and thought we'd have a great time through our next 26.2 mile journey, my legs felt fresh and overall, I was pretty positive. I couldn't have been more wrong.

When we arrived at our hotel, Dan looked disgusted and suggested that he would much prefer to stay in a caravan. After spending the 4.5 hour drive telling us how much he hated caravans, it wasn't a great sign. We settled in and 'made do' for our short stay; making do involved eating cat-sick resembling porridge and finding a pubic hair in our bed. Beautiful. The things we do for charity ay?

On the way to the race the following morning I switched on my Garmin only to discover that it wasn't working. Panic set in. How on earth was I going to pace myself?! How would I know when I needed to speed up or slow down? How would I know what mile I was at between mile markers?! I was actually battling back tears. Meg, Dan and Mum didn't understand, telling me it was 'just a watch' and that 'I'd be fine'. For me, being able to pace myself is really important. I have a tendency to fly through 5-10 miles when my breathing has settled and then suffer later. I was going to have to work really hard to keep my pace slow and steady.

My bad mood just wouldn't lift. I was struggling to even muster up a smile at the start of the race, I just wanted it over and done with - an attitude I've never really had before. Joined by Meg and Mark at the start line I tried to get my head in the game, we set out gently and paced ourselves through the first .8 of a mile before coming to a hill nicknamed 'heartbreak hill'. I'm surprised it wasn't called 'heart attack hill'. I've never seen an incline like it. There was even a handrail to hold on to to make your way up.

There was no way we were able to run up this beast, we slowed down and started to power walk. My calves were on fire, tears were welling in my eyes. I wanted to drop out. Not even a mile in I wanted to quit. As we came to the top of the hill I breathed a sigh of relief and after allowing my legs to recover  I started to pick up my pace again, only to be met by another 'little hill'. Meg was doing great, she was a few paces ahead of me. 'Keep moving Meg, don't stop for me' I told her, she turned and with our weird twin-like mind reading ability could see that I was considering quitting. She grabbed my hand, 'Ohana means family, family means no one gets left behind' she quoted (yes, Lilo & Stitch) dragging me up the hill.

I could see how determined Meg was, how well Mark was doing even through injury and realised I wasn't doing them justice. 'I'm getting my head in this game' I told them, plugging both of my headphones in, switching Eminem on and picking up my pace. I guided them through the next few miles of the course, sticking a few paces ahead of them. The course remained hilly with constant steady inclines but we were getting somewhere at last. 

Feet fail me not, this may be the only opportunity I've got... 

Around 4 miles in we discovered the trail element of the race, I loved the next three miles of deserted dusty paths through huge fields. I sped down the paths, making up for lost time in the first few miles. My stride was strong, my posture felt good. I was really powering 'You've just crossed an eight minute mile' Mark called out. Oops. This is where my Garmin would have helped. I hoped I wouldn't burn out later on given how easy those miles had felt. 

As we reached the bottom of the steepest incline and crossed a road, I had my weirdest marathon accident to date. A fly flew directly in to my eye. Until the 9th mile my eye was streaming, I could hardly see. We finally found someone with a bottle of water to wash my eye out. With half a face of make-up and half a bare face, we ploughed on. Through the town centre and on to a very long canal path, everything felt okay. My head was back where it needed to be and we'd actually started laughing again. 

Watching Meg complete her first ever half marathon was a real highlight of this year so far for me. I've ran her first ever mile, 5km and 10km with her, so being part of her first half was incredible. She managed a decent sprint finish, over taking every one else who was making their way to the line. 

People often comment on how close Meg, Mum and I are; the greatest thing I will take from this experience is spending so much quality time with them and making life changing memories. 


Meg, I am so ridiculously proud to be your big sister, some days I wonder if we were born in the wrong order because you seem to look after me so much better than I'm capable of looking after myself. I can't wait to take on the challenge of Bournemouth with you and finish holding your hand, we'll get through everything together. Love you to the stars and back x

Mark and I stopped for a quick chat and cuddle with Dan and Allie, again a huge relief. I was feeling more positive but the second lap was going to hurt. We'd gone way too quickly for a good 5 miles in the first lap so I knew I'd suffer at some stage. 

Mark and I waved as we started over again. Round two. It wasn't a good start as we got lost within .2 of a mile of leaving the Shay Stadium. With no marshals around or signage, we had to stand and wait for a runner to pass us. It didn't seem long before we were back at the bottom of Heart Attack Hill. Knowing what was in store, we gritted our teeth and made our way to the top. I kept telling myself to focus on the fun of the trail paths that were waiting for us. 

Mile after mile passed; we thanked the marshals, saw some odd looking horses, battled up the hills and managed to just about fly down the hills (with the odd 'oh oh oh' as our knees started to hurt). Reaching mile 19 we stopped at a support car for a cup of water. There was no food at all on the course and not a single spectator so we were both feeling a little bit shaky. The marshal pulled a single bag of ready salted crisps and a carton of orange juice out of his car, I had a flash back to the man with tuc biscuits in Wales and could have kissed him but resisted. 

Other runners were looking worse for wear. Mark gave up one of his remaining gels and I handed my juice to a guy who was sat on the road side shaking, you can only hope that these people make it to the end of the race in one piece. We saw several other runners in a bad way as we kept ploughing on. One guy had taken his shoes off, put his feet in to the canal to soothe them and now couldn't get them back on his feet. He was at least three miles from the finish. I always feel sorry for these people but do wonder what possesses them to think these things are a good idea. Stick to what you know and then do that some more! 

The canal paths seemed to be going on forever. We were putting in more lengthy stints of running than normal, Mark looked drained, I can only imagine how I was looking. 'I've got nothing left' Mark told me with just two miles to go. We were both exhausted. Our fingers had swollen up and everything just hurt. We kept pushing, testing ourselves but nothing seemed to be lifting our spirits. Mark even refused to dance to S Club 7 with me. After what seemed an eternity, the final hill was in front of us. We made our way up, over taking several other runners as we went. 

On to the flat, I could finally hear the cheers of the marshals. With everything we had, we started to run faster. A man who'd stopped to walk cheered us, 'go on guys, give it all you've got', we kept on going, exhausted. I could feel myself feeling colder and colder, almost an out of body experience. I could hear Dan's voice but I couldn't see anything. As soon as we stopped I hit the floor. It took a few minutes before I could even sit up. Two medics sat with me, checking my pulse and temperature. I wanted to know Mark was okay but couldn't even get words out. 

The medic handed me a recovery shake and mum was trying to force feed me tuc biscuits, jelly babies, bananas, cashews... You name it she wanted me to eat it (love you mum). Within ten minutes I was back on my feet and ready to get in the car and head home. Watching the video back of the finish scared me. I have no colour in me at all, it's obvious that my body was not only physically but mentally drained. 

I'm often asked if I wish I'd done these races back to back, I think to have completed 12 marathons in 12 days would have been far easier than spreading them over the course of the year, because of how life consuming this has been. I'm at the point of just wanting this to be over now. Over 15 months of planning, training, travelling, fundraising and racing have already taken place and although the finish line seems close, we still have FOUR races to go, which equates to over 1000 training miles. 

I know I'll make it to the end of the year and I know I will finish this challenge with an enormous sum of money raised for our charities (please donate here). But on top of that, I will have memories to cherish forever, an understanding that you really don't need blood to be family (Taylors!) and a real belief that I can do anything I want to do in life. 

I've typed this introduction nearly fifteen times. In fifteen different ways. And I still seem to be struggling to find the right words to sum up the journey we're on, the weekend we had in Wales and how grateful I am to have YOU reading this right now. 

Team Run 12 has become far more to me than a hobby - it's also become far more than 'my challenge'. Team Run 12 is, and always will be, an integral part of my life and the people I consider to by 'family' has grown because of it. I've made existing friendships better and made new ones on a global scale and together, we're saving lives. There is nothing more incredible than that, not even crossing the seventh marathon finish line this year. Thank you for being part of this journey. x

Pre-Race Pep Talks 
Nerves were really getting to me the night before the race; when I laid my kit out I was actually shaking, thinking about all of the hills we'd driven past and walked up when wandering around Tenby. Mark and I had a brief chat about the race and agreed we'd just get to the finish - no time aims, no personal bests, just slow and steady, walking the bigger hills if we needed to. 

As we got in to bed that night, Dan said something to me that really stuck with me; 'you've got to six finish lines, what makes this one any different? You've done it before, you'll do it again.' It's hard to explain how it feels to have so many people believe in my ability to do this, when I have moments of doubt, their support gets me through. 

For months, their messages of support have been reinforced with jokes about the death/pain this poxy course was going to cause me. I don't think they quite realised how terrified I was as a result of their teasing. 

On the morning of the race I text Stace and Nick to let them know where we would be so they could meet us. I spotted Stace in the crowds and we stood chatting and taking pictures - something to take my mind of the next few hours!Marc had kindly printed us Swansea Vale Runner vests - making us honorary members for the weekend. It was great to finally meet them, and even greater to end the race seeing them waiting and cheering for us at the finish line. 

Inspiration appears everywhere.
As always, pre-race flew by; Mark and I were soon having our last good luck hugs from our amazing support crew. As we walked to join the crowd of runners, we spotted the SVR boys again in the crowd. The more races I do the more I recognise regular marathoners but to meet a group of people online and be able to see that they genuinely are behind you 100% is incredible. #TwitterFamilyForLife

In a whirl wind of confetti and noise, we crossed the start line. Mark and I were both in good spirits; for the first few miles everything felt relatively steady and easy. The hill at the third mile was on the large side, to say the least, so we tactically walked up it to save ourselves for later, a majority of people were walking which made me feel a little bit better.

The miles merged in to one another, without a great deal of drama. Around five miles in we decided to put some music on and every runner we saw joked about wanting to stick with us to stay motivated, one even asked if I took requests. 

We  then overtook a blind runner and his guide, something I always find incredibly inspiring. As we passed him he asked his guide who had run passed with music 'a lovely young blonde girl, we'll chase her I think?' Erm, not sure how I feel about that but okay...? 

We started talking to the runner and he told me that he had been running for over 20 years and this race was his 266th marathon. I was in complete awe. Running one marathon in good 'health' is an incredible, life changing experience but to run 26.2 miles over 250 times with a disability. There are no words to explain the respect I have for that; I hope to be able to be a guide runner in the future. We later saw this gentleman and his guide cross the finish line so a massive congratulations to them. 

Miles 11 - 13 seemed to pass really quickly; the second we crossed one mile marker another seemed to appear. I was looking forward to seeing our support crew, not only for a bit of motivation but because I'd managed to cut my arm open so I'd text ahead to ask mum to grab me a sleeved t-shirt out of my kit bag. 

As we approached Pembrokeshire Castle I knew I was close to a cuddle. We turned up a steep hill in to what appeared to be the high street, then heard the roar of everyone stood on a street corner. It is so motivating to see your family; before I ran the London Marathon for the first time, my mum sent me a text message that read 'Just because you can't see us doesn't mean we're not behind you, we're with you every step of the way'. Whenever I'm struggling to keep putting one foot in front of the other I think of that and, so far, I've always managed to keep going. 

Strawberry Daiquiri Flavoured Gels = LUSH (I'm in Wales so this is an acceptable word). 
As we approached the 16th mile I started to feel a little bit sick. Rule number one of running a marathon - do not try anything new on race day. I made the error of trying a vanilla bean GU over the berry isogels (they do actually taste of watered down strawberry daiquiris!) I've been using and suddenly felt very sick. Add on the blister that was forming on my foot and I was starting to feel a bit rotten and grumpy.

Mark was doing a great job at keeping me moving. The hills were really apparent now; I'd jinxed us by laughing over how few we'd seen in the first half. We were still ahead of target so just kept plodding on, looking back, we could have picked up our pace significantly in the first half but then, hindsight is a beautiful thing. 

As we approached the 18th Mile I was still feeling quite sick, I'd noticed that I had a lot of salt on my skin but hadn't read the warning signs of what this could mean. Half way up a short but steep hill, outside a post office (I think) was a man stood with a tray of Tuc Biscuits. TUC BISCUITS. I could have kissed him. I took three of them, thanking him as we continued up the hill. Nothing has ever tasted as good as those dry, salty crackers did. I text mum to ask her to find me a box for when I got to the finish line. If there's any form of motivation, it comes in the shape of a little red cracker box. 

NEVER race children. They have no concept of distance. 
One of my highlights of the race was a water station at the 22nd mile. There was a large group of children supporting their parents who were marshalling, aged between 3 and 11. As we approached the station they were cheering, full of support and offering water and snacks. 

I started to make my way up the next hill whilst Mark refilled his water bottles, when one of the young girls said 'COME ON WE'LL RUN WITH YOU!' I laughed but realised they were serious as they stated to run alongside me. 'Can we race you?!' one of the smaller boys asked, that made me laugh more, he clearly had no concept of how far 22 miles is or how knackered we were. 'Come on then' I agreed, we raced up a hill, me pushing them to run fast, Mark joined in with another group of them catching us up at the top of a hill. 

They waved us off, laughing and smiling 'GOOD LUCK' they all chanted.

Where did you come from Cotton Eyed Joe?
As we approached the final stretch, Cotton Eyed Joe came on to my iPhone. We cowboy danced our way to the final hill, Mark joked about us crossing the finish line to 'this shit', I think we'd both underestimated how amazing this finish would be.

We picked up our pace for the final stretch. 'Come on, lets go' Mark said to me, we powered our way towards the finish line, spotting the SVR crew in the crowd, seeing their 'familiar' faces and hitting the wall of noise was just incredible. About 10 metres closer to the finish line we spotted the TR12 support crew, I grabbed Meg's camera and we crossed the line hand in hand, laughing. 

Here I was for the seventh time this year, having a piece of heavy metal hung around my neck, another 26.2 miles under my belt. We're now closer to the end than the start, the countdown has almost begun to the final race and that almost scares me. 

By far, this has been my favourite race yet. The fear in the months leading up to the race challenged me but added to the experience. Meeting the SVR boys and seeing so many inspiring runners on the day showed me how incredible the running community really is. The marshals and our support team were second to none, as always. And the views, oh the views, unbelievable.  

We'll be back next year Tenby - what a weekend! 

Dehydration is bad. 
I always react differently after a race; sometimes I feel horribly sick, other times I'm starving and eat everything I see. After a 50 minute car journey home, I felt a rush of tiredness and was freezing cold, which in 22 degrees heat is ludicrous. I jumped in the shower and could hardly stand up, I laid in the bath, holding the shower head on my tired legs. I begged mum to dry my hair before curling up on the sofa under a blanket and falling asleep. After struggling my way through some food, I went back inside feeling like I might throw up (I think Dan's 'singing' - NONE THREE FIVE - might have had something to do with that). I fell asleep again and woke up feeling awful. Almost four hours had passed and although I'd been drinking all day, I hadn't been to the toilet for about seven hours. Dehydration.

Mark made me a High 5 drink and after slugging my way through it, I started to chirp up, craving salt and wanting more sleep. Getting in to bed that night was amazing, what had been a bit like sleeping on a snooker table for the last two nights suddenly felt like a cloud. 

When I woke up the next morning and managed to walk downstairs like a normal person who hadn't completed a marathon the day before, I was surprised. Mark was more surprised though when he asked if I wanted to do the race again next year and I immediately said 'yes'. 

Some days I wake up and I'm tired of talking about my marathons, tired of running mile upon mile and spending hours in the gym. It doesn't take long before I look at everything we've achieved this year- over £12,000 for two very worthy charities, SEVEN full marathons plus the hundreds of other miles we've completed, a community of friends all over the world...  This has been the core of my life for over a year now, yet I wouldn't change a thing. I've gained more from this experience than I could ever have hoped. 

If you want to get fit, start to run. If you want to change your life, run a marathon. 
Challenge yourself. Push the boundaries. Do what others believe to be impossible. 

Stop dreaming, and start living. It's the best thing I ever did.