And so the marchers struggled, bounced, joked their way homewards, now at mile 22, not far to go, beginning to wonder who this man was who kept appearing in front of them every couple of miles. Past Jock's Lodge, into the Queen's park once again, onto London Road, and then down towards Inverleith Park once more. I thing that once they saw the 26 mile marker there was a great relief until they say that there was still another 300 odd yards, uphill through the avenue of trees, in bright sunshine to that elusive and welcome finishing line - great relief, with tears flowing, cheers from waiting family and spectators, celebration breakfasts, hot baths, releiving massage, and bottles of bubbly - all very , very well deserved.
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