Sammy cycled to the finish line

I felt excited at registration in the pouring rain - there was just so much to be excited about, and I can't believe I'm about to admit this- just being there with all these other people who had signed up to do the same thing as me - that was brilliant, then there was collecting our Macmillan/Etape vests designed by Adidas (we got these free after raising over £350) - I liked that too, then the smiley Macmillan folk got me even more g'ed up. We got our backs rubbed and ate mugs of pasta before heading home for an early night.

5.00am alarm sounds. Boyfriend teasingly calls 'wakey wakey, it's etape time', lift squished head off from pillow (feel like lips and nose have moved to opposite ends of face).

A vat of porridge and 1 gatorade later we had arrived in Pitlochery. After nearly mising the last wave we set off at the back, concerned we would remain there for the duration of the journey.

We didn't, we shot past a number of cyclists and saw many fiddling with their bikes at the side of the road. It felt good to be getting further in to the group and making friends. Ben was so excited he was busy filming people as they climbed hills, not appreciated by all but there was no escape really (got some great footage- keep checking macmillan site!)

I was just smiling so widely. I felt a bit like Ben and I were Mark and Jeremy of Peep Show fame - "we're doing it, we're really doing it!" we both seemed to exclaim. Brilliant to feel a natural high like that.

The first hill we took on was a little tougher than I had expected, but I knew it was just the beginning and I had to get up it. A few people seemed to be pushing their way up so at this stage I felt I was doing ok. We continued and my legs became stronger, more determined to push harder. At our first pit stop I felt great, 30 minutes later (3 hours in) I started to feel pretty tired. Made me appreciate how much we expect from our bodies on a day to day basis - the tipping point is easy to miss.

Then it happened, Ben, myself and a few hundred others got bunched up by a town hall. Oh disaster, I felt a sinking diasspointment that I would not get to complete what I had set out to do. When we learnt that the track had been sabotaged we seemed to stand closer to one another, discussing the news, expressing disgust and just buzzing with the desire to keep pushing on -

and so began the climb, up Schiehallion, 45 minutes upwards in to the mountains. When I set off I didnt think I was fit enough for it. So many had told me just to believe I could and I would. At each climb I turned over Ben's guiding words - 'low gears, nice and slow' and so I continued, with this mantra ticking around in my head and the faces of great encouraging friends and family hovering over my handle bars. After each climb I rushed with victory, I wanted to scream, 'look at me, just look at me do it'. It would have been absolutely unaceptably uncool, and so I kept that in my head too. We reached the top, Ben ahead and the whole thing caught on camera. I felt excellent.

We continued and it was difficult - strong wind meant the flat felt like a climb and my botty and back were sore but the stunning views of lakes, lush forests, fields filled with calfs and lambs, bulls and sheep kept my head wondefuly entertained.

As we approached the end of the track the encouragement from locals and Macmillan staff became even more intense and heartfelt - '6 more miles, and watch the sharp climb on your left' 'youre nearly there, you've done brilliantly' 'keep it up, you're so close now' 'half a mile, push harder' and a blast as we ripped over the finish line. Clapping, brilliant buzzing, bleep piped up the machine which clocked me cross the line.

I was smiling with everything as I rode over the finish- I heard one women comment from the crowd, 'cah did you see that girls face, she was smiling so hard her eyes were bout to pop out!'

They didn't. My bottom was a bit sore though.

I can't suggest this event enough -
I was overwhelmed by how few women were competing. Most of the ladies I saw were there supporting their guys. Perhaps the bike talk is off-putting? I understand that - I knew nothing of bikes before I agreed to take part in December, and now?

Well, I was approachd by a man on a bike near the end of the race offering me tubes. I had no idea what they were or why I might need them - I made this quite clear to him. He shouted in disbelief through his helmet, 'it's for when you get a hole in your tyre'. 'Oh' I said, 'well have I got a hole?', 'no', he responded. Exasperated, he handed me a pack, 'it's in case you get one' and shuffled off.