Sue's feet after her run

I  now understand about the agonies and ectasies of a long distance runner – and I am nowhere near the finish line, writes London marathon blogger Sue Austin.

The last couple of weeks began so well, with a brilliant Sunday training run.

Husband and fellow marathon entrant Melvyn and I were joined by running friend Will as we set out of one of the last frosty mornings of the winter, attempting a 16 mile run.

Sue training in the rain on her birthday

Will and I were apprehensive as neither as us had run more than 13.2 miles before. But three and a quarter hours later we ran – or rather jogged – into the driveway at home in triumph.

The boys had clocked up an amazing 19 miles while I had done about 17 and a half (a shortcut when I struggled to keep up with their faster speed).

Yes our muscles were aching like never before but the three of us were on a high.

We had really, really enjoyed the morning and the time had gone incredibly quickly. The weather had been kind and the scenery around Ellesmere had been stunning.

Gee-ed up by my success, I embarked on my tough training programme with gusto, three hard mid-week runs mixing interval training with hill repetitions.

The Friday night runners’ special birthday cake in the shape of a London Marathon runner’s number added to the ectasy.

But the hard training took its toll and by the time Sunday dawned again, the day of my 48th birthday, I was flagging.

Perhaps it was the couple of pints or the pub grub I had consumed the night before – it was my birthday – or perhaps it was the rain, but as we set off on a 13-mile club run I felt terrible.

Melvyn shot off in front and had a brilliant, fast run. But the ever-patient Will had to coax me out of my ‘I cant do it’ mood and lifted my spirits by laughing when I slip slided along the muddy section of canal towpath and deliberately splashing in the puddles.

An enforced stop at a bunk house used by youth organisations to answer a call of nature (I have never been so pleased to see an old school friend, now guide leader, at the door) added to the incredibly slow time and we jogged in, last of the 30 or so runners.

The next day the agony arrived, my instep and ankle so painful I could hardly put my foot down. I was close to tears as all thoughts of training disappeared and instead i spent the evening trying to put into practice the runners’ mantra, RICE – rest, ice, compression and elevation.

Tuesday – I resorted to a gentle cycle and weights at the gym, pain easing. On Wednesday I had to pull up after just a few hundred yards when I set out running with friends.

The tears almost started again but despite being told to go home and rest I decided instead to head for the soft towpath and try a walk/jog. The more forgiving surface and pace worked and I was pleased with being able to put in an hour’s steady jog.

It wasn’t just the training that brought extremes of emotions.

Fundraising is as hard for a golden bond marathon runner as the training itself and the realisation that we were not going to sell the 200 tickets we had hoped for our Night at the Oscars (Ellemsere Town Hall, March 28th) was very depressing.

But this was soon replaced by the thought that over 100 people had bought tickets in difficult economic times and there is still time to sell more.

And all the agony and self doubt was swept away by my wonderful friends who turned up to help plan the evening in detail.

They were willing to give up hours of their time to help me realise my goal of running the 26 plus miles in aid of the Oswestry Spinal Cord Appeal for Research.