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I seek-out a discreet bench and take the weight off the feet. The primary emotions are elation and relief but my brain seems unable to comprehend that it is all over, the months of training, the planning and preparation have been worthwhile after all and slightly self-consciously but uncontrollably the tears flow for the next few minutes before I can pull myself together and call loved ones.
 
I have not slept for 58 hours and my legs have immediately stiffened. The luxury of time allows me to examine my right ankle which is certainly much bigger and more swollen than the left. I feel like I have much of the trail lodged in the back of my throat but I am just elated to have finished. The end of a brutal, unforgiving, relentless event. One that creates cracks in your physical and mental armour, even if you had none beforehand. One that you need a good deal of luck to see through to its finish. Yet also one, that rewards those, who are able to see it through, with an indescribable feeling of achievement.

I look at the clock, my Pinchbeck Christopher watch has kept perfect time to the second and brought me home in 44 hours 23 minutes (one hour and 37 minutes inside the cut-off). Many thanks to Harold Pinchbeck for their wonderful support.