What an absolute piggin' nightmare it was, trying to get to this event in the first place.

Well, the months of training are now over and the real test is about to begin.

Up at the crack of dawn it was, not even the Lark was up yet.

It was far to early in the morning to even get the watch in focus, all I know is it was daylight and the birds were twittering outside.

The early morning dawn chorus was again conspicuous by its absence, it would appear the usual culprits had too much respect for the female contingent….maybe.

As the trodden frogs fought their way out of the small window in our bunk it was time for us to escape to the sanctuary of the dining area.

This was the day we had all been looking forward to the most. The PB's anxiety was akin to mine of last year and without good reason.

None of us could quite believe that today was the penultimate day of HMIII but, today it is, as we all rise yet attack at an unearthly hour of the morning.

After spending seven days on the road and, the corresponding early starts, I was expecting a bit of a lie in this morning - after all there was only eight miles to do today but, oh no you ain't laddie, we've got a rendezvous at the Little Chef in Tomatin for breakfast.

After the match it was back to the B&B (we walked back as we couldn't be bothered to wait for a cab – and Doz lost her scarf on the way too) and freshen up in readiness for the nights entertainment and celebrations at the end of season Supporters Club do at the Ness Hotel.