If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere

The deed is done, the marathon is run, and my legs are still intact. And my name is in the New York Times!

I didn't quite get the time I wanted but I wasn't far out and, honestly, it was the fastest 4 hours and 34 minutes of my life. The time just seemed to fly by on the day, from the moment we got on the Staten Island ferry to the moment I crossed the finish line.

The 40th New York Marathon was all I expected it to be - great atmosphere, fantastic support and 26.2 miles long. It must have the most scenic start to any marathon, as you look to your left from the Verrazano Bridge (top level, to avoid men urinating on your head as you run), you get great views of the city that lies ahead of you and, of course, all those miles you have yet to cover.

The waiting around in Staten Island was fine, if very cold. There weren't too many pre-race nerves, so we didn't have to queue lots of times to use the toilets - although it might have been a case of pee fright after visiting the toilet the first time, as it's not an experience you want to repeat in any hurry. I did use one at mile 7 during the race, and I will have Nam-style flashbacks of that toilet for the rest of my life. It was too horrific to talk about, at least not without several hours of therapy, but at least it ensured that my bladder stayed happy for the rest of the race. It was obviously as traumatised as I was.

Every section, every borough brings its own pleasures. Locals head out onto the streets to welcome you to their neighbourhood, offering tissues, oranges, water and leftover Halloween candy. Bands of all description, and of varying quality, are out on the street to serenade you as you run past. I saw lots of the city I'd never seen before and plenty of places I'd like to go back and explore at a more leisurely pace. The Bronx and Harlem were particularly welcome, with luxurious wide lanes for us runners, and friendly locals cheering us along into the final section.

In fact, the vocal support all the way round the course is tremendous. I expected there to be crowds and plenty of support but not to that extent. Both NY and I had stickers with our names pasted above our numbers (a huge thanks to Sarah for her artistry in creating our name badges for us) and this made all the difference. It's the closest I will ever come to fame, with literally hundreds of people shouting my name for over 26 miles, preceded by any of the following: 'go', 'looking strong', 'doing good', 'pick it up', 'almost there', 'attagirl'. Although, my personal favourite would be the lone woman on a particular block in Harlem shouting, 'go, Anne Marie, that's what I'm talking about'. Thank you, ma'am, for keeping me smiling for another half a mile.

There were negatives. I missed a few of the mile markers, as they are not always easy to spot, so pacing became difficult. The road surfaces here in this city, to use the vernacular 'totally suck' so you are essentially running on a very uneven surface all the way round. And it took a lot longer than I would have liked to get out of the park, making it difficult to keep moving and prevent the muscles stiffening. As a result, I am hurting today in places that I have never hurt before. But not nearly as much as I thought I would. In fact, I am in surprisingly little pain considering the effort I expended yesterday. I'm fine as long as I don't try to get out of any chairs.

There are lots of moments you think in advance are going to be uplifting or pivotal in your run but, to be honest, by the time to get into Central Park, you are far too tired to care that you are running the New York Marathon in Central Park and just focusing on how soon you can finish and have a sit down. This is a bit of a shame and I am pleased that I did manage to regain some enthusiasm in the last 800 meters heading back into the Park for the final strait. It definitely helped that the band at Columbus Circle was playing 'Hold on, I'm coming', which is a pretty brilliant track to play if you're looking to put a smile on someone's face in the last mile of a marathon, and also that I was entertained by a slightly bonkers middle-aged Brazilian guy who ran the last 500 metres backwards high-fiving the crowd. But I did love the last few metres for themselves, for the fact that I was about to cross the finish line of my first marathon, exhausted but exhilarated. And I sure do hope they got my photo...

LON