I was actually surprised how high up the field I came - 65th out of 301 finishers in 04h-56.
Given I struggled up the climbs, it implies that I went quite fast on the earlier sections and had nothing left for Hardknotts and Wrynose.
But as I said yesterday, I felt ok in myself, even whilst climbing - I just didn't seem to have the peak leg strength for those couple of minutes when I needed it.
I also felt like I was psychologically not in the game.
I normally embrace climbs - it is great to be staring at a road in the Alps and seeing the glints of cars all of the way to the top.
But yesterday when I saw Hardknotts, it just seemed TOO steep to climb. Maybe I convinced myself it was before I even started.
When I used to rock-climb, we often talked about our relationship with the rock. Some people saw it as their friend, it working for them, helping and coaxing them up. Offering them holds when they needed it and friction when it counted. A holistic relationship of love.
Others saw it as a battle - climber versus rock or ice. The climb is trying to prevent you from getting to the top and you must beat it into submission and claim your victory. I used to think of the Ali picture of him standing victorious and comtemptous over the fallen and beaten body of Sonny Liston.
I actually felt both feelings depending sometimes on the climb (I loved pocketed limstone and hated gritstone), but more often than not, my attitude was based on how I felt. And in fact how I was feeling about life in general.
So was I looking for love on Sunday when I should have been beating those climbs into submission? Alpine climbs at 7-10% that last for 25km have been long, pleasurable encounters for me. Short British climbs at 30% pehaps need a more Ali approach?
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