Sue Austin, right, and fellow Shropshire runner Samantha Brown, from Oswestry

I have just had the most amazing adventure, a day like no other in which I took part in one of the greatest races on earth.

My Flora London Marathon saw me finish in what was, for me, a highly respectable 5 hours and 45 seconds.

• To find out how our county runners fared, see the next page

But, more importantly, I managed to see my family and friends loads of times on the course and I can honestly say I really enjoyed myself!

The day started with the obligatory bowl of porridge for me and cereals for husband, Melvyn (who cut 15 minutes off this last marathon at 4.22). Then there was breakfast cooked on a camping stove in the back of our car, so superstitious was I that I had to have the same routine as on my training runs.

Runners poured out of our hotel before seven and more and more joined us en-route until we were thousands making our way through the gates of Greenwich Park to the sound of the theme tune for the marathon.

It hit us all that we were part of something really special, something that few other countries could stage.

With husband at a different start I was suddenly on my own, save for the messages of support flooding in on my phone.

All too soon our bags were on the fleet of lorries, the queuing for the loos was over and we were in our pens to start. I teamed up with Lorna, her first marathon also, and as we crossed the line to start what I hoped would be no more than five and a half hours of running.

There were so many incredible moments in the next five hours: seeing running friends at six miles and then later, and seeing my teenage kids, mum, auntie and friend Adele. These were my highlights.

There were the sights of those who raced in searing heat in fancy dress, the camaraderie of runner helping runner, and the volunteers who manned water stops or offered first aid.

There was the sight of Tower Bridge and running over it, the noise of the bands, the priests with their holy water and passing Peter Andre and Jordan.

But above all there were the wondeful spectators who lined the route, offering sweets, kids wanting to slap your hand and those who shouted my name, pinned on my shirt.

That shouting, that encouragement, together with a great training programme, helped me to a great race.

The Londoners in Docklands yelled encouragement when crowds were spare and the shouts rose to a crescendo along the embankment.

When I reached half-way I decided it was time to really start to work and I struck out alone, running my own race amid 35,000 others.

Advice from other runners came into my head when the going got tough, as did words of support from family and friends.

Seeing Big Ben rising up into the blue sky was such a great sight, and I struck out for Buckingham Palace hoping against hope that I could break the five hour mark.

It didn’t happen but I was running as strongly as I could.

And when I saw my family in the grandstand, pride on all their faces, I just had time to wave and shout I love you before actually sprinting to the finish, hands held high.

The feeling of euphoria was something I have only every experienced twice before and that was when my two children were born.

My smile was a mile wide, all the doubts and fear of failure forgotten.

I had run the London Marathon.