I have always wanted to run a half marathon. So with nagging over-training injuries under control, I lined up for Cheltenham Half alongside a couple of friends. Sub two hours was the dream, but in reality, sub 2.10 would be fantastic. And I had trained for it as best I could, my longest run 10 miles just over a week before. I knew I could finish the race, but more importantly, I knew I would not let myself stop. And that was quite literally my downfall. That dogged, bloody-minded determination would push me over the edge. Nothing can prepare you for the highs and inevitable lows of a half marathon. The nervous excitement on the start-line - knowing you are about to enter the unknown and do something you previously had not thought possible - is almost addictive. The support from the crowds watching is something else, especially when you are running through your home town. They pull you through to the end, beyond the pain, the suffering, the heat, the exhaustion and the breathlessness. At the start, I couldn't keep the smile off my face. The cheers of the crowd and the enthusiasm of the runners around me was infectious. A glance at the watch told me we were running quicker than I had planned to but it was difficult to slow yourself down. We were happy with the pace and it felt easy. You feel like you're floating, as if you are being carried along in the moving mass of runners. The experience of running through the centre of Cheltenham in the bright sunshine with crowds of people cheering still gives me goosebumps now. The course was wonderful. After nine miles or so, we tackled a tough incline up New Barn Lane on the way to the famous racecourse. Nikki had peeled off, her training run finished, and as we entered the racecourse I lost touch with my friends too. The sun was beating down; I was hot, tired and my pace was slowing drastically after the tenth mile. I was trying to drink but the liquid was sloshing around in my stomach, making me feel sick. I have always struggled to drink enough while exercising and on the exposed racecourse, I was dehydrating quickly. And after this, everything gets a little bit hazy. I remember seeing the 12 mile sign. But the final 1.6km is a blur. Flashes of running towards the finish line in sheer desperation come back to me but generally I can't remember much until I regained consciousness. I was lying on the ground retching, with medical staff buzzing around me. They tried to move me on to a trolley to wheel me to the medical tent. I flailed out aggressively, not wanting to be moved because I felt so awful. I vomited. I was picked up from the floor and have a memory of being wheeled to the medical tent before it all went black again. I woke up lying on a makeshift bed. And it was as though the world was in slow-motion. My blood pressure was low and I was very dehydrated. I turned to the doctor and said, “Be honest with me, am I going to die?”. Dramatic as it sounds, that was a genuine concern! I was attached to a drip and after about an hour I began to feel better as my mother arrived wondering what on earth had happened to me. Soon I was allowed to stumble home, unsteady on my rapidly-stiffening legs and still light-headed. I cannot thank the medical staff enough for their kind and patient treatment. Within 30 minutes of being home I was very sick. I couldn't eat until 6pm that evening, 12 hours after a bowl of porridge that morning. I did 2.06 and cried with relief when I saw that time. But I had to address why I got so dehydrated. I often forget to drink - and suddenly feel really nauseous and realise it's because I haven't drunk anything but coffee in the office. Or I have a 4pm slump and suddenly remember I haven't drunk any water that day. Hydrating yourself properly, not just when running a half marathon, but also in getting through an arduous day in the office, is vital. Since I have really noticed the effects of dehydration and am picking up on the warning signs. I fill a drinks bottle up in the office from the watercooler every couple of hours or so to stay hydrated. Hydration = a happy and healthy body and mind. But will I run another half marathon? Of course I will. I've got to experience crossing the finish line!