The Wilderness Adventure Race

Committing myself to John's invitation to do 'The ARC' took only a few seconds. We had talked about it last year and again over the past few months, and knew we could have a strong team.

Race preparation took a while longer, but preparation is crucial, as well as having the necessary skills and mindset to undertake what became an awesome adventure. I had done two five day races before but not a continuous non-stop race, but we were a new team with mixed experience but good skills and a united objective.

The Wilderness ARC is a team event. It's hundreds of kms of trekking (walking rather than running!) MTB, Kayaking and 'ropes'. Canyoning and a swim were also included just to keep it exciting. I still don't know the full distance and don´t really want to, but it took four and a half days and covered a vast area around and out west from Fort William.

Prep is the key, strategy and application crucial. We knew we wouldn´t be the fastest team but I was convinced that we would finish, hopefully all in one piece and all four of us together. Finishing last would be OK, as others would not make the full distance.

OK, we hadn´t done as much physical prep as we might, but we had done some crazy (night time) things together as a team. We'd had a few days in Scotland 'acclimatising’ at Easter and were not fazed by what was to be. I was quietly confident, and I sense I was not the only one.

A large part of Saturday and Sunday, prior to the Monday morning start, was spent in The Nevis Centre in Fort Bill. Briefings, skill testing, equipment checks and more briefings and general packing and prep took hours of time, and added to the stress and sleepless nights. It was clear the organisers were out to impress both us and the sponsors, and to get as many teams as possible to a day five finish at Fort William.

The prologue was a two hour run and MTB score event around the town and we finished fifth despite 'taking it easy', mainly due to John's ability with map and score strategy. This earned us a penalty of 'only' 18 minutes over the leaders who would start at ‘zero’.

The race started at 0800 on Monday with me feeling very bloated, over laden and tired. Happily the stress went as soon as my heart rate rose on the first hill climb but it was great to see John and Gareth coolly walking up the climb a few places behind me a Louise. We weren´t quite last but ‘hey, were we bothered?’ Many teams seemed caught up in 'the race' mentality especially as there would be abseils, canyoning and jumar ropes, and queues may be a concern on Day One. We weren't. 'Start slow and taper off . . ' was the motto.

A runner once told me, "jog the first third, run the second, and race the last third of a marathon." Apply that to any race and you will finish quite well.

An hours orienteering spread the teams out before the descent into Glen Nevis. An abseil, canyoning (a couple of waterfall jumps) a cave hunt by Louise and Gareth and a jumar by John and myself completed the early part of the day before a massive 3000’+ climb straight up Sgurr a’Mhaim, and over the Mamores. Our pace was slow and steady to conserve energy, and by finding some reasonable lines, we passed a few teams but weren't 'racing' at all.

At least the climb warmed us up after the cold water of Nevis but we had a cold northerly wind which stayed with us for most of the week. A long trek took us down to Loch Leven. This is where Louise and I would swim whilst John and Gareth paddled the kayaks guiding us and the gear across the Loch. On the descent we couldn’t see any sign of activity and I started to think the stage might have been changed, and to expect the unexpected. Sadly not, I wasn´t looking forward to the swim, but being a ‘fat boy who doesn´t sink, as opposed to a fat boy who swims like a brick,’ naturally volunteered me for the honour. Furthermore, I knew Louise had been training.

Wet suited up, and having stashed all the kit aboard the boats, something which you don´t tend to think about before hand, I entered the water. Once in the water it wasn´t too bad but I quickly decided that keeping under the water and out of the wind was the way to go, so a smooth economic breast stroke with minimal head dipping seemed best. The goggles steamed up pretty quickly but I was aware of the others around me. I’d like to think Louise and I were fairly compatible, but she may think she may have been waiting for me.

There were two or three small islands in this 2km swim and it was possible to scramble over them. I was quicker than swimming around but the wind chill was horrendous and it made the water seem warm was you got back in. Some time later I knew I could take much more and could see the finish buildings. On leaving the water the wind chill was truly evil and despite running straight into the Watersports centre building and trying to get changed whilst drinking hot chocolate and get warm I knew my core temperature was dropping severely. Others were in just as bad or worse state. I'd never shivered so violently; to start it was comical but then it stopped and felt sick, lightheaded and scared. Some teams clearly didn’t understand the situation, so I gladly accepted all the pampering I could and encouraged a few others to do the same. My team were totally on the ball, and then Stu Johnston appeared to gently take charge of a worrying situation with the other teams. Breathing in warm air from a gas heater whilst covered by a group shelter was the best way to recover. To rush out onto the Loch and then open sea for the next 17km kayak without a proper re-warming would have been very dangerous.

Eventually, after what seemed a very long time, and not the sort of time you really expect give up in a 'race' we launched the boats and paddled off into the evening sun. It was blustery and choppy. A diagonal head wind made things exciting as we crossed Loch Linnhe a short way south of The Corran Narrows. Early teams had it worse with tide against them too. There was no one around us and as darkness fell we struggled to make out any other kayakers and the destination was a murky horizon far way. Conditions calmed a lot as we neared the far shore towards Ardgour and Inversanda Bay, and the contrast with the situation previously was significant.

It was fully dark as we beached the boats. Food, tent and sleep were the obvious things to do, and I only recall one other team doing the same. I guess we slept between 12 midnight and 0230. Our 'transition' was achieving very efficiently and proved to be a good strategy. (T3 Inversanda. Arr. 2257hrs Mon, Dep 0350hrs Tues, Total time at T3, 4h52m )

We were away up the road at first light and onto Garbh Bheinn and a long ridge climb up to just short of 3000'. Here we would all do a jumar ascent. We passed one team ( North Downs MR) as someone sick with a stomach problem. Several teams were just finishing the jumar, and looking cold and groggy. There was a light dusting of snow and some very cold looking marshals remaining very cheerful after a full night out. The leading teams would have been here 12 hours ago, but that wasn´t a thought that remained with me.

What followed was the remainder of a 45km rough mountain trek that became known as "The 'king Hills". It was punctuated by two road crossings and a lunchtime snooze in the midday sun. At CP12 (arrived 1553hrs Tuesday and stayed about 25mins) we served out our 18 minute penalty from the prologue with another small snooze. Another team arrived but they had nearly and hour to wait. Many teams had planned to go non-stop until this point which I don't think helped.

We took some efficient lines though these hills and made light work of some tricky navigation. A long but happy plod took us to T4 at Ardtornish across the water from the Isle of Mull. (T4 Arr 2010hrs Tues. Dep 2213hrs.Total time at T4, 2h03m) Here we had access to our full transition boxes and would change to MTB mode for the next long section. We were keen to make the most of the daylight and were ready quickly. Another team appeared looking sore and tired but I thought we looked pretty good. Mike Poole arrived having withdrawn his team earlier in the day and accepted that they just weren’t up to the demands of the race. I was impressed with his brave and honest opinion.

Out into the late evening sun John did a great job of leading the bike navigation around the peninsula, with views across to Mull and Tobermory. I hadn’t been looking forward to any of the biking, especially the ‘hike-a-bike’ sections, but actually enjoyed them. Darkness fell soon and it got very cold, but we kept a steady pace. I soon realised that I hadn't actually ridden off road at night over unfamiliar terrain, and certainly not in a group before, so it took a while to appreciate that the best strategy is to stay close on someone’s rear wheel and relax and perhaps pray a little.

We found all controls ok. The riding was much better than expected and we grabbed a few minutes sleep as dawn rose. Waking chilled we were off on a short bash through rough ground before some nice new single track and then minor roads. I started to lose the plot here a little as I hadn't got the map and was confused as to where we were and how far we had to go. It's just a mental thing. No point worrying about it and I had every faith in John. As a team we would check often we each other and we seemed to be moving well. We hadn't seen another team since T4 but were really enjoying the journeying though the amazing countryside.

I felt strong physically, but would feel a little whoozy now and again and worried about missing a control. I badgered John who didn't mind at all. There was also another infamous hike-a-bike leg to do which turned out to be a lot better than we hope. A long loch side ride gave us a view of a team paddling seaward down Loch Sunart. Conditions were perfectly still and I envied there position. We exchanged cheers of acknowledgment but had no idea who it might be, but assumed they were one of the leading teams. I for one was in my own little world; a happy and contented one.

Often through the race we discussed options for the forthcoming leg and transition. Talking to each other is important. Efficiency at transitions is really important and having an agreed plan is crucial. It's tough actually sticking to it as it easy to be distracted by others, who are keen to talk and want to help. Throughout the marshals were brilliant.

Before arriving at T5 we had decided to sleep for an hour. (T5 Strontian Arr 0908hrs Weds Dep 1159, Total time at T5, 2h51m) The tide wasn't due to flow for a while so we ate and slept on a warm Wednesday morning. The long kayak stretch was ahead of us but by the time we were ready a stiff breeze was blowing up the loch against us, and with the tide still flowing out we had choppy conditions again. Typically it was one of the few times it blew from the west, and not from the cold northerly direction. The paddle was long and slow, but our technique was good and we caught the Irish team mainly by carefully hugging the shoreline to avoid head winds.

I was becoming increasingly concerned about the state of the tide. We had now lost the ebb tide and it was increasingly very windy. Also we had to find a control hidden away in an inlet behind an island, (Carna) and although we had been there on the bikes many hours before I thought it would be very difficult to find. After that we had to cross the main stream of the loch to the other shore and T6 and I feared conditions could be very bad.

Gareth was looking very sleepy in the front of my boat. Louise and John seemed to be paddling well, and I tried to contain my concern. Around the island the tide was racing through some rocks and I looked worryingly at John. He said nothing but I knew he was aware of the situation.

We did find the Control OK. Ironically it was the same one Jim was marshalling at last night and where we had slept for twenty minutes. It was bizarre being back there as I had no concept of time of day. Sadly we had to rush off leaving Jim to his lonely duty. The Irish weren't far behind but they were looking ragged, and I was worried about them. We started the paddle across the loch by going around the other side of the island. Conditions should have been very rough but with a following wind and tide. Strangely the wind died completely and apart from weird boils and eddies at the tip of the island we had a flat dull crossing.

T6 had no transition boxes. (T6 Glenborrowdale, Arr 1805hrs Weds Dep 1844 Total time at T6, 0h39m) I was just a case of stripping out of paddling gear and into trekking gear. I think another team were there already but the Irish seemed ‘all at sea’ behind us. A long trek followed with the incentive of passing through Acharacle village. Once on the go it was apparent we wouldn´t make opening times for the infamous village chippy. John and Louise had been here in April. The first part of the trek was ‘ok’ and on good tracks will quickly found ‘Pyro’ marshalling at the next control in a dismal midge infested sheepfold. What these guys do is amazing. You want to stay and chat and give them food, but we quickly exchanged sweeties and marched on. Acharacle village was closed. It was 9pm. The ascent of Beinn Resipol would be next and this is where things would go badly wrong.

Beinn Reispol should have been a relatively straight forward evening / night trek. We are strong at trekking. It is 845m high and we had just one control on the way to the summit one, situated on the edge of the forest. Assumedly, a forest track would take us some way up the mountain from where the open mountain would require respect and careful navigation in the dark. We had some directions in the route book and some way marking in the forest, including "walkers welcome" signs.

Here, I was guilty of a grave and dangerous assumption. Firstly, I assumed I was best placed to nav and perhaps I wasn't. Also I assumed the control on the edge of the forest was up hill from where we were, but I was wrong and simply wasn’t reading the contours. John had to point out that the control was actually at sea level on the edge of the moss that he had seen from far away across the loch in April. John had actually remarked then how typical of Gary it would be to have a control in that bog !

Eventually we found the control by combined efforts of map, words and two brains, and then started the long ascent along the forest edge. The terrain was horrendous and it took an age to travel a few km in really wet tussocky conditions, and even worse we still weren´t gaining any height. We plough on because that was all we could do. I was cursing myself for poor nav, and for poor route choice as I was convinced that a reasonable walkers path must go up through the forest. I kept looking over the big dear fence and into the forest in vain.

Eventually we topped out on a low col and got a fix on our position. With still a long way to go, navigation was going to be key and we were determined to do it tonight, then sleep at T7 and even joked about a lie in before going to the cafe for breakfast.

Beinn Reispol had other ideas. It went on and on. We had to stop for a power snooze as Louise was asleep on her feet. We woke up cold but partially revitalised. We also spotted lights behind us. We pushed on steadily to the top. The team were right behind me climbing really well, and whilst I wanted to go faster I thought it might push us over the edge mental. We did get to the top but I couldn't find the right summit. In thick mist nothing was working out. It was nil visibility and lochans just kept appearing in places and short steep slopes went nowhere. I was seriously worried, John looked very concerned. We discussed using the group shelter for another sleep but we were too cold, we had to keep moving. John and I came to the decision to bin the control and get out fast. I felt shit. I felt really worried for our safety; we had been on the edge for too long. I was mad with myself and very angry with Gary Thompsett as I thought the previous controls were unnecessarily contrived. With hindsight it was my own fault and I was very tired. My professional reputation was in tatters.

With the decision made we headed east. I was insisting on John double check my every move. I simply couldn’t trust myself. We head east. The compass did strange things, and the ground kept rising and failing. I then sensed a larger summit to my left. We had to go up it. John just kept quiet even though we were no longer heading east. The look in his eyes was very telling. Gareth and Louise looked like heros and never complained. Then I found what felt like a summit ridge, but there was no ‘wee trod’ which you would expect. Then suddenly a small worn gully in a rock step gave me a sixth sense that we were approach a summit. I told to the team to wait here, the team sheltered in the rocks, and I started running forward; I knew I would find the summit. I was crying and shouting into the wind. I had an amazing sense of deja vu and just knew the control was tied to a concrete post next to the summit. I could see the summit, I shouted a torrent of abuse at the electronic sport-ident box. Then I didn´t know whether to dib and run and just get the hell out of there or fetch the others, I was running at full speed, jumping up and down rock steps at a speed faster than every before. I found the others and we went back and ‘dibbed’ all together.

Shit. We know where we are! The last hours had made no sense, it was pure tiredness knitted to some awful assumptions and errors.

We still had a long way to go. On the long eastern summit ridge it became fully light and there was a lot of dead ground. Below the cloud the valleys were confusing and despite stopping and agreeing with John which way we were going I couldn’t seem to execute the plan. Everything seemed to be deceptive.

Finally we got on to the reasonable track which headed for sure down towards T7 back at Strontian. We were all asleep on our feet, but John found some energy and kept us going.

Arriving at T7 (Strontian, as T5, Arr 0753 Thurs, Dep 1358, Total time at T7, 6h05m) I explained how annoyed I was about the forest control to Jo Spivey the marshal, hopefully politely enough that she didn´t take it personally. Jo obviously relayed my comments, and perhaps those of other people, to Gary as he did make a point of speaking with me and publicly defend his reasons for including the control later.

We crashed out into deep sleep. I woke up three or four hours later and thought our race in the full route was over. I had taken no notice of any ‘cut offs’ for the full course, but knew John had the overall race in his head. I always concerned myself with just the stage ahead.

I was wondering what to do, having just got the stove going when John woke up. He seemed very alert, decisive and instantly said we had to be at Glenfinnan by 8pm. Game on ! We just got up, stuffed some food down, got on our bikes and went. We all felt a lot better for the sleep. Others teams seemed worse than us, I remember seeing Jeff ‘PD’ walking into T7 as we were leaving and just hoped they would be OK. Information from the marshals implied we were doing fine but it was difficult to comprehend much of what was going on.

The next bike leg started with a 300m ascent on a winding road to a pass over into Polloch and Loch Sheil. By chance we had driven over this pass and biked along the length of the loch side track at Easter. Back then we had joked about an agreement not to attempting to ride this climb if it was in the race. With me acting as back marker and talking about going slowly, we settle into a long ‘granny ring’ cycle climb. We stayed close together before getting to a point just before the top, where it became everyone for themselves and you have to go at your own pace. Traffic was waiting for us – I felt like I was in the Tour de France. We all made it up without walking; yet another high point. John led a sensibly cautious descent on the treacherous road. I cursed not having disc bakes then remembered that I did have SPD shoes unlike the other three, and slightly slicker tyres so felt very humbled by their climb, all done with trail shoes and slow knobbly tyres.

Once again we were feeling good. We kept close together and rode as a four, two by two. This allows you to glance side ways and instantly see all your team mates. I was expecting some ‘sleepmonsters’ and for his leg to drag on, but we had a bit of a tail wind and were spinning well. We had one stop for water and were chatting well. We were going to make the 8pm cut off with ease. It was only on this stage that I starting thinking about the remaining stages.

There was the river crossing at Glenfinnan, the rest of this stage including a hike-a-bike over into Glen Dessary, then a Kayak leg and Hike-a-bike, then a final monster trek. That´s all. Suddenly my thoughts were focused on the finish sometime tomorrow, perhaps?

Right time to start racing !

The river crossing was fine. Just get wet, no point in trying to stay dry, keep it simple. Two teams were just finishing as we got there. They were dead on there feet. I felt we were flying again and we all looked happy. We spun up Glen Finnan past the bothy with a set of bikes outside. I knew Dynamic Adventure were inside as I had over heard them saying the intended to sleep there. On the Hike-a-bike climb we passed another team. This was a bonus to me and I even enjoyed the descent to Loch Arkaig even though there wasn’t a ride-able track. Twenty or so kilometres of tarmac gave us time to discuss and plan our remaining strategy

We were racing darkness, but if we could kayak into the night we could then sleep having changed into dry clothes, before the last bike and then trek. Sleeping even for just an hour in the small hours of the night makes huge difference.

The road along Loch Arkaig was more undulating that it might have been and a few midges kept us at speed. We arrived at T8 (Clunes Arr 2202 Thurs, Dep 2320, Total time at T8, 1h17m) as it got dark, and our plan was nearly scuppered when we learnt that we wouldn´t have access to transition boxes at T9. No worries; stick with the plan, but take sleeping bags with us. The Irish were trying to sleep as we sorted ourselves. Another team arrived and as we set off I was aware that at least one team wanted to follow us.

We paddled into the middle of the loch to get any current or breeze that might be following us. We ditched the idea of sailing as my trekking poles form the sails and I needed them for the final trek, and it was only a short 15km paddle. The only mishap was me sitting on my drinking bladder value and emptying the contents into my seat pan. Fortunately it was only water and not a sticky drink, but it left me hot and thirsty. We paddled swiftly and quietly, no one seemed to be following. It was very dark and my eyes were tired. I knew of the lock gates at Laggan but was surprised when there were no markers or marshal. Back into the water a very pleasant paddle took us the short way to T9. (North Laggan Arr 0200hrs Fri, dep 0410, Total time at T9, 2h10m) We quickly changed and bedded down for some sleep. The Irish arrived and I was well aware that they were now racing us, but they seemed to spend a long time doing very little. I dozed for a few minutes but could not sleep as I was uncomfortable on the sloping edge of our meagre sleeping mats.

I got up and moved into the long grass wrapping myself in the wet group shelter, leaving the other three in their sleeping bags. I watched as the Irish team walked right past the John, Louise and Gareth. I couldn't gauge their reaction but I don’t think they knew we were still there, or they didn´t realise the three sleeping bags was our team.

We woke chilled a short while later and set off cycling at first light wearing everything we had; five layers in my case. It took ten minutes to warm up despite some steep zig- zags tracks up into the forest. It was another going to become another nice day but with a cold northerly wind.

We were climbing steadily and towards the end of the forest road zig-zags I was amazed to see the Irish hiking the bikes up the open fell. We were gaining on them fast. This sleeping business really works. I detest hike-a-bike but the best way to tackle it to get your bike fully across both shoulders with the top tube across the top of your sac and just hike. It's no heavier than a climbing day sac. (I learnt later that they had slept in the forest for an hour out of pure necessity.)

It was boggy, tussocky and slow across the top of the ridge but nice soft grass down into Glen Turret so we rode quite a bit as if you fell off it didn´t really matter. It was a bit like falling over in powder snow whilst skiing.

A short ride on tracks reached the road and another long undulating tarmac ride down Glen Turret. We were moving well to the last transition, T10, and despite a few sleepmonsters stayed wake on the downhill into Roy Bridge.

T10 (Roybridge Arr 0810hrs Fri, dep 1033, total time at T10, 2h13m) would be our last stop for foot care, food and sleep. We chatted through what we would do; eat change, sleep for an hour or so was the plan, but weren’t expecting a heated village hall, nor a kettle and so many helpful marshals. Warm clothes, sleeping bag, food, doze, wake up. Too hot. Gareth is in deep slumber, John decided on the ‘full monty’ foot care form the medics.

We are not aware of the helicopter rescue the previous day on The Grey Corries Ridge, but I did become very aware of the concern for us. Race Director Phil Humphries arrived. He asked how long I expect to take on the final leg. "As long as it takes” I say, ”eight ten, twelve, fifteen hours." I had already got my sack packed with enough food, warmth and lighting for that length of time but Phil told me The North Face took 10 hours so I re-pack with a larger head torch and pack and additional warm duvet for when the inevitable ‘sleepmonster’ strikes one of us.

Off we go, leaving the Irish looking dead, again. Perhaps we look dead too. The navigation out of the valley and onto the hills is tedious and the route description poor. Once on the mountains the nav is straight forward but I nearly take us up the wrong mountain, a 90 degree error. I didn´t think we lost any time but once on the ridge John spies some people running after us. Running ! . . We top the first summit and set off on an amazing traverse of the Grey Corries in perfect sunshine and good visibility. The ridge is rocky and slow but we march along and even manage to jog some bits. I am forcing the pace out front as there are some little route choices to suss out. I keep looking back and the team are just looking fantastic against the scenery. If only I had a camera. I know John is in pain but we all are to a certain extent., and slowing down won’t help much.

We agree that the guys running were definitely a team in pursuit, and must be the Irish but our increased pace has put time between us. I was keen to get off the ridge and out of sight, perhaps to kill off their challenge once and for all. The final control doesn't seem to be there, and monetarily there is panic but it is tucked away on the down side of the cairn. We scoot off and try and run. The map blows away from my open jacket. I sprint and dive after it making John smile, as he's never seen me move so fast.

Down, down, down into Glen Nevis still a long way to go but if we can lose the chasing team on the mountains we won't have a racing finish. None of us want to have to race. Finally we get to the wire bridge. The water is low so Louise and I wade through but John and Gareth enjoy the bridge and impress some tourists as well.

We then have a bit of a hassle to find the cave that Louise and Gareth went to four days ago. We are coming from a different direction and it’s a nightmare of broken ground. We find it ok, but a blister on one toe bursts as I twist and turn on the rough stuff, then I break a lace loop on the other shoe so that a fresh pain appears on that foot too. It's really all tracks now as we pass Paul, the marshal, at the road bridge, the final manned control. The forestry track is very rough underfoot and my feet are starting to cut up. It's longer than we think along the valley and we are all hurting, we stop once for pain killers but then it hurts more to get going. We are in fine spirits, everyone still looks really positive but we each know we all hurt on the inside. Finally we get to the familiar ascent of Cow Hill. We march up as one group at a fair lick, giving it all we had. I sense John is suffering so lessen the pace slightly not to drop him off the back as I kicked the hill into submission. A slight pause at the gate to re-group and I apologise to John for my childness. Another few kms takes us to the Control overlooking the town, the first and last of five days. Fort William looks a real mess as we stand and stare in the meek evening sun. I could lose it here, tears threaten, the team have been awesome. Time to go.

Down hill isn't too bad but we’re not running much. We’re all trying to look good. In the main street Anthony Emmett intercepts us having been dispatched as ‘look out’ probably following Paul’s phone call. Anthony finished his race yesterday in second place. He makes a call to warn the finish and we are directed round the back of Morrison’s supermarket for a ‘run’ into the finish funnel. I hadn’t expect this level of reception, but we respond by running hands held high in celebration. I squeezed Gareth's hand tightly in an effort to stay calm.

We still finished in fine shape. We are then told of we are officially fourth as John James was airlifted off The Grey Corries; fortunately he recovered quickly from exhaustion and dehydration.

The first bottle of bubbly disappeared very fast and I was left to drink Rose. There a several dozen people here and whether a marshal or competitor we shared the same feelings of accomplishment and exhilaration. People are genuinely awestruck in there feelings.

I was keen to get changed and cleaned up and to keep moving, rather than flop. Whilst in the shower I heard that the Irish are due in about an hour after us. They arrive to a ‘Guinness’ reception and again I was lost for words. I then had a serious craving for ‘the black stuff too’, so went the pub and talked with a few people, probably rambling on senselessly. Three pints later the bar closed and we adjourned to the sports centre were Robyn found more Guinness to accompany the take away Pizzas that we had ordered. We all sat there too tired to speak or move.

Eventually I crawled into my van and couldn't decide which way was ‘up’ to sleep. My huge transition gear box was blocking the side door. I found a bottle of water and drunk as much as I could, then fall asleep only to wake up 5 hours later fully dressed and unable to find the van keys. I can't open the back door from inside, they only way I could get in, so had to climb over the box. But I can't find the keys and I don't want to set off the alarm.

Eventually I found the keys and stagger into Sports centre. I meet James Thurlow and Rob Howard, but I can't speak as the brain and dry throat won’t work. James offers me his coffee, but I decline and wonder off looking for a drink. Having walked past the bar twice I realise it’s a bar, (it’s only 7:00am!) and point at a can of coke: I opened it, and realising I have no money, the bar staff just smile and wave me away.

I came around quickly and had a laugh with James. Another team arrived (Fun Over Talent) and Rob Fellows was really hobbling. He couldn't manage the final jog but marches with a resolutely happy grin. We all know of the pain he is in and I felt tearful again. It reminded me of just how well we finished and how our injuries are quite minor.

Our great adventure would not have happened without the contribution of many people. They are too many to mention; marshals, organisers, all the other team’s, not to mention wives and partners, etc, but I would sincerely like to thank John, Louise and Gareth for a simply awesome adventure and being magnificent team mates.

Thank you everyone.

We learned a lot during our race, even though we were relatively well prepared, and I hope to write some bullet points about this soon (see Ten Key Points). We proved that a strong team with a measured and steady approach can do very well and that such races are within the grasp of many racers. If you would like any advice please don’t hesitate to contact me.

Further info can be seen via www.sleepmonsters.com .