As the dawn broke over the South Downs, early morning dog walkers could be forgiven for rubbing their eyes.
Team Smurf emerged from the night intact as a unit, if lacking a little of our early banter and carrying slightly less vaseline than when we started.
JJ's boxer shorts were the only casualty en route. Cast aside once the rub of cotton pinned to thigh by blue polyester tights became too much.
Our early pace saw us heading for an easy sub 24 hours but as blisters took their toll and John Wayne imitations took hold due to chaffing, our passage through the rolling fields over 100km from Petersfield to Lewes to Brighton slowed.
I was one of the lucky ones. My feet survived unscathed thanks in no small part to my discovery at Arum's recommendation of socks by www.wingwear.com.
The only peril which befell me was falling asleep as we walked shortly before the sun returned to warm my frozen frame. For I foolishly felt it unecessary to take a fleece with me through the night and suffered horribly from the perishing wind sweeping in off the sea.
We finished at Brighton Racecourse shortly after 9am, 26 hours after starting. I was tired but not done. Not done that is until I had made it back to Bristol at 10pm that night via Horsham and Victoria bus station.
The painful part came with the realisation the next day that I had factured my foot. It's been three weeks now almost and while healing I'm still a way off getting back out running. Top tip: when your foot starts hurting, loosen the laces, don't just take another magic pill.
Trailwalker was an exceptionally well organised event, supported magnificently by Oxfam volunteers, who cheered walkers on from every checkpoint throughout the night, and ably staffed by the ever-smiling Gurkhas.
I can't recommend it highly enough. Get a team, get out there, raise money and amaze yourself at how far you can go.
