The Polka Dot Challenge. This was my biggy - the challenge of the year. Seventy-two miles, four categorised climbs and nowhere near as much training as I'd hoped.

As we drove through the Peak District to the B&B, the sheer size of the hills, the horrendous length of the climbs hit me and I began to feel really nervous, so nervous I felt vaguely sick. We'd talked about this and planned for it for so long and now I was finally to face the challenge I wondered if I'd been kidding myself. How on earth was I going to do it? I can't even make it up the small hills around home let alone 72 miles of it.

All too soon it was Sunday morning. We got ready quietly, not just because it was some unearthly hour and we didn't want to disturb anyone but the nerves were really kicking in and I was not in a chatty mood. I tried my best to force some toast down knowing I needed food but it was a chore to eat.

The start area was busy, cars arriving in a steady stream and bikes everywhere. We registered and collected our route maps and timing cards. The weather forecast was for rain and disappointingly it was quite chilly so I put my waterproof on and filled my pockets up with my supplies, flapjacks, jelly babies, energy gels, camera, mobile, emergency fiver.

The bikes all checked over and ready there was nothing left to do but line up at the start. By now the nerves had given way to a fatalistic attitude, I was just going to try my hardest and see how far I got. If I didn't manage to finish then so be it, I'd give it my best. We waited our turn in the line and all too soon we were off.

Jon waited with me until I was warmed up and settled into a nice pace. I was happy at the back of a large pack so once he'd checked I was ok and the nerves had settled he shot off at his own (very fast) pace. We'd agreed to text each other whenever we stopped and report our progress and we were hoping to meet up again somewhere towards the end of the ride.

The first section of the course is not at all picturesque, the bypass around Macclesfield is not really one of the renowned beauties of the peak district! Soon though we were heading out of town and up the first of the climbs. This climb had been worrying me for months, The Cat and Fiddle, 7 miles that twisted and turned, all of it uphill. Although I'd been dreading it I was also glad to reach it. I knew that if I got to the top of this one I had a good chance of making it all the way round.

The first few miles were tough, the road surface was rough and I was praying it wasn't going to be like this the whole way. Soon enough though the road surface got smoother, the gradient eased off slightly and we were out of the town and into the peaks. It is a lovely stretch of road, curving around the hillsides but the potential of the views was spoilt by the low cloud and mist. Another couple of miles and I began to get fed up. Other cyclists flew by me in groups chatting and laughing like it was flat as a pancake, the rain had started and there was a headwind building.

I kept my head down and kept plugging away, the rain came down heavier and I really began to wonder what the hell I was doing and why I was putting myself through this. But the miles gradually passed and eventually I was rewarded with the extremely welcome sight of the pub that marked the top of the climb. I'd done it, I'd ridden the Cat & Fiddle.

A short stop to refuel with some Jellybabies and a gel but the torrential rain hardly made it a pleasant break so I soon set off again. It was such a shame that the weather was so bad because instead of enjoying the countryside and the views I had to keep my head down to stop the rain getting in my eyes.

It didn't seem long and I reached Buxton and the second climb known as Long Hill. The name was a bit misleading as it was nowhere near as long as the Cat & Fiddle and although steep in places I found this climb quite comfortable. A long undulating section followed, again there should have been some stunning views but they weren't to be seen in the awful weather.

After about 2 ¾ hours I reached the turn-off point for the shorter route. Although shorter it certainly wasn't all easy. There was a short climb known as Martinside that was vicious, only one mile but extremely steep. I started it with every intention of riding it all but had to give up and walk up the rest.

I reached the feed station after 3 ½ hours. The rain had eased slightly but I had reached the point where I could get no wetter. I had intended to stop for a while, refuel and rest for a bit but after I had eaten my banana I began to get cold so set off again. The descent from the feed station into Buxton (again) was difficult, there was a huge long traffic jam and temporary traffic lights to negotiate. Once clear of the main town we then had the third of the climbs, Axe Edge.

By this time I had passed the half-way point but I was seriously concerned about being able to finish. Axe Edge is not particularly steep but it did seem to go on for quite a while. I felt very cold, I was fed up with being wet and I honestly couldn't see how I could ride another 35 miles. I think this was the lowest point on the whole ride. As on all the climbs I had riders zooming past me making it look easy and I really wondered what I was doing there, I wasn't a good enough rider to be doing this.

The fact that there was a lot of traffic on the road kept me going though. I didn't have the option of getting off and walking, there wasn't even any space at the side of the road to stop so I had to keep going. 'Ten more revs' was my mantra and slowly I crept up the hill, rounded a corner and I'd done it! The relief that I'd finished that climb was immense.

The next fifteen miles or so was pretty much downhill and so I managed to recover some energy and certainly recovered my spirits somewhat. The thought of the last climb - Gun Hill - was bothering me though as I could feel my legs tiring on each uphill section. Still, I was enjoying the fact that I was still going, the rain had stopped and once that climb was out of the way, it was downhill all the way home.

The sign at the bottom of Gun Hill showed 20 miles to go. I think it was then that it sank in that I could actually finish this thing. A short distance up the climb though and I wasn't so sure. It was steep and my legs were pretty shot so reluctantly I got off and walked. In bike shoes this isn't so easy so I took them off and walked in my socks, they were soaked anyway and it was far easier on my calves although they still cramped up quite badly.

I was passed by quite a few riders, one of the best thing about cyclists is the camaraderie and I had several ask if I was ok, offers of food and drink and mechanical help if it was needed. As none of them could give me stronger legs they couldn't help but the comments and offers were certainly appreciated. The top of the hill was even more appreciated. After a short stop I set off on the bike again. I was in quite a good mood at this point, knowing the worst was over.

A little distance down the road and two of the guys that had passed me were waiting by the side of the road. I was told that they'd cut their ride short because of the weather and seeing me struggle up the hill they had decided they'd wait for me and make sure I got back to the finish ok. I was a bit worried that I'd be too slow for them but they said it was fine, they were going to see me home.

Although I was ok riding on my own and had set out knowing I'd be on my own their company was good to have. Having someone to draft made it easier on the legs and someone to talk to meant the miles went by faster. We soon passed the 10 mile marker. By this time I was expecting Jon to pass me at any minute. I was actually quite surprised he hadn't caught up with me before. With my companions helping me along (thanks a lot guys) the miles ticked down, 5 miles and Jon still hadn't caught me. As I said to the guys, he'll pass me at the mile marker.

4, 3, 2 miles to go. I was on a high, settled into a good pace it felt like I could go on forever and yet I couldn't wait to finish. And then he caught me, Jon went flying past with a congratulatory wave, just before the mile marker, just as I knew he would! With ½ a mile to go the guys insisted I lead them to the finish, I put my head down and went for it. Turning into the finish area I have never felt such a sense of achievement. I'd done it, I'd finished the Polka Dot challenge.

My time was 6:28 which was a lot better than I'd thought. Jon finished the 100 mile route in 6:26. We were amazed at just how close the times were. To start out together and finish within minutes of each other was great.

I'll be back next year, and I've warned Jon that he's going to have to work a lot harder to finish before me, the 2009 challenge has been set!