I’d battled with the remains of cold, struggled to see in the freezing fog and, as I set off on my 60-70 minute run one Sunday morning, fine grains of snow were falling out of the sky. AND I had a hangover.

It was not the most glorious of starts to my London Marathon training.

A nasty cold had already set me back a few days. But I was determined to start my training last week.

And I did it in style with a 30 minute run along the prom at Llandudno after a day out at the seaside.

Husband Mel, also taking part in the marathon, didnt seem to have the same urgency. So he sat in the car with his chips (banned from my training diet) while I did three miles to the pier and back.

But boy did I feel virtuous!

Since then Mel and I had done a short run with interval sprints in freezing fog in Ellesmere, marvelling at the amazing frost on the trees. Just how cold it was was clear when I got home and found my hair had started to freeze like the tree branches.

Then we had our Ellesmere ‘club’ run when we all caught up with each other after the Christmas break – a gentle way to break us into the New Year, despite the eight hill runs at the end.

And now it was Sunday morning. We had both enjoyed a curry and a too much alcohol with friends the night before and I really didnt want to do a six to seven mile round trip to Criftins.

But after the first mile I realised that, as long as I took it slowly, it wouldn’t be so bad. The wrens rustling in the frozen undergrowth on the side of the road kept me  occupied and I forgot it was marathon training – it was just another run.

That was until a chap out for a walk asked if I was trying to get fit after Christmas and I found myself saying, “Well actually I am training for the London Marathon!”

Then I started with the butterflies in my stomach.

Mel was also running, much faster than me, he would run ahead then turn round and come back for me.

With a much needed comfort stop at the in-laws in Criftins we headed back home, a headwind now freezing my face and my gloved fingers.

But it was downhill all the way, well almost and we arrived home unscathed after what was the first of a dozen or so Sunday morning runs getting longer and longer.

I pushed to the back of my mind the realisation that I would have to run almost four times as far for the Marathon, and took great delight in ticking the first week off my training programme.