But rather than kick back and enjoy a day off I feel my stomach twisting with fear about quite how much cash I still have to raise. My wonderful, generous friends have really dug deep and have donated around £700 so far which is a fantastic start for which I am so grateful, but honestly my mates aren't millionaires and I can't expect their kindness to fill the pot.
My mind is churning with ideas as to how to raise the cash, but I must admit to being the kind of person who dissolves into a puddle of anxiety at (a) asking people for money and (b) organising events with the potential to go tits up. I suspect to be a successful fundraiser these are flaws that should be missing from your character.
I am toying with the idea of hosting a pub quiz, but quail at all the admin involved. It is hard enough finding time to train, see the children and earn a few paltry coins to keep the wolf from the door, without having to organise a grand fundraiser single-handed. Added to which I cannot escape the fact that getting people to cough up for a night out is a notoriously tricky thing to do, no matter how noble the cause.
Although I think that is part of my problem, I need to shake off the idea that I am asking people to give me money personally and remember the wonderful cause this is in aid of. I know of so many people whose relatives have been cared for by the North London Hospice, including my husband's grandma, and I know it depends on donations for its survival, so I will just have to keep this in mind next time I have to pop on my brass-necked persona. Gulp.
With this in mind feel free to sponsor me by clicking on the London Marathon logo.