Last June, I got up somewhere before sparrowfart on Sunday morning to head down to the Meadows where I had volunteered to help out at the first Edinburgh MoonWalk, where around 8000 women (and a few hundred men) set off at midnight to walk either a half or a full marathon. I'd heard about the London MoonWalk ages ago, and also found about the Edinburgh one months back, but I didn't do anything about taking part. I wasn't fit enough, everyone wears decorated bras – I'm not being seen out in a bra (!!!), I was too busy, it wasn't my kind of event... you know how it is.

But I stood there for hours that morning giving out medals to women (and men!) who had just walked 26.2 miles and I was both ashamed of myself and inspired. Ashamed because the women there were all shapes and sizes, and while some were very fit and power-walked the marathon with times of under 6 hours, there were some who took over 11 hours. However long they took though, everyone of them had a grin on their face as they crossed the finish line and every single one was cheered on by those waiting for them.

I was inspired by their courage and their motivations, their determination and their individual stories. There was one girl who was 16 who did the walk because her aunt had just been diagnosed with breast cancer, another woman who fell on my shoulder sobbing at the end because she'd lost her sister to the disease, a group of women who wore fancy dress and 'for Maggie' written on their chests, a woman of 70 who told me how she'd survived cancer, and there were many more there who just knew someone, who knew someone, who…. But what they all had in common was that they were there doing their bit to raise awareness and money for breast cancer charities and I'd wimped out.

And I realised that I could make all the excuses that I wanted, but none of them meant anything. What matters is that I show up in my trainers and my decorated bra for the 2007 Moonwalk and that I walk 26.2 miles with these thousands of truly amazing women. 

I'm taking part with friends Helen and (the other) Vanessa and my sister Alexis and if training so far is anything to go by, I should be asking Elastoplast to sponsor me and my blisters. 

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