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I was going to come nowhere.
    I had come to the Games a champion, and this was my worst position in a Paralympics race, probably my worst 800 metres ever, and the event was shown live on national TV. I felt that I had let a large number of people down – the people who had come to watch me race, my family, my team, and also myself.
    I remember going to the side of the track, and I just started crying. By the time I got to where Ian was standing I could see he was visibly upset too – most unusual for him. I looked across to where the BBC camera crew was sitting, waiting for me to give an interview, and you could tell that they didn’t really know what to do.
    They gave me the option to do the interview later, but I believe in confronting demons. If I win I am more than happy to head over to the BBC and talk to them. They did an interview that asked some tough questions. Paul Dickenson said that perhaps it had been a Paralympics too far for me. I could deal with that because they were just doing their job. They weren’t being malicious or unkind. Afterwards the interviewer gave me a hug and told me to take care of myself.
    I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was trying to make my way to where my friends were sitting, and on the way several members of the public came up and gave me a hug and told me not to worry. One guy stopped me. He had obviously never competed in an 800 metres in his life. He was overweight, and I remember him telling me that I had chosen the wrong tactics! He was right, but I didn’t need to be told that. It was hard not to be rude. I just wanted to get to my friends and my daughter and be with them.
    I finally got to the stands. My close friend Maureen and her husband Ray and their daughter Sarah (they were looking after my daughter Carys while I was at the Games), were obviously upset. Two of my oldest friends were are also there, Ric and his wife Julie, and their three daughters, who are my god-daughters. They didn’t seem to know what to say.
    The only person who wasn’t upset was Carys. She was walking around, seemingly oblivious to everything, and I turned to her and said, ‘Did you see Mummy’s race?’ She looked me straight back in the eye, and replied, ‘No, I was eating a hot dog.’
    This immediately broke the tension. I remember my friends joining in the laughter. It made me realize that, while athletics was incredibly important to me and my family, and the people who care about me or the sport, at the end of the day, it was just one race. It was a big race to lose, but just one race in my career.
    Later that night, with Jenni, team coach Jason and Ian, we tried to figure out what had gone wrong. The fact was that it could have been anything. It could have been my attitude going into the race, and me thinking that I couldn’t win. It could have been my indecision, or it could just have been that there were six better people than me in the race. You can analyse things too much, and sometimes there is no answer.
    But training during the next two days was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I needed to get some confidence back, and I needed to do everything I could to go out and win, to prove to myself that it wasn’t a Paralympics too far, and that I wasn’t past my best. I had had a good season. I had won a lot of races, and I knew that my form couldn’t possibly have completely deserted me overnight.
    I had the option of going home. I had been told that I didn’t need to compete. But I knew that I wanted to stay and see what happened. Part of this desire was to confront my worse fear (losing) and just be there.
    Jenni came out and trained with me. She was going through a really tough time at the Games. Things had not worked out for her, but still she came to the track to help me.
    Leaving the track and going back to the village was always a bit scary because there were guard dogs on duty – and that night