The morning of the race (post-start)

I woke up rather confused. My phone was telling me it was 5am and it was light outside (whilst in the alps a week earlier it wasn't getting light until 6am). Google told me that it was in fact 5am Danish time - the difference in daylight hours was down to Denmark being further north than the alps. Quite obvious really - I put this lack of realization down to the half-asleep state that I was in. Anyway I was in no rush to get up - the race didn't start until 10am and I needed to rest as much as possible. After a good 30-minute snooze I got up and slowly started sorting stuff out. The hotel's breakfast started at 7.30 - I was mostly packed by this time (I tend faff when getting ready and it always takes me far longer than it should). I started off by going into the kitchen where I was given permission to use the toaster to toast my hot-x-buns that I'd brought with me from home (my tried and tested pre-race breakfast favourite). There was also a great selection of warm bread and condiments. I tactically opted for some delicious wholemeal bread with honey. During breakfast I met another guest/fellow Hammer Trail runner Jesper - a 54-yr old Danish man who lives in mainland Denmark. He was also a 100-mile virgin, although like me had done many marathons and some shorter ultra-distance events before. We talked about the day ahead. He mentioned that two-thirds of the competitors last year didn't complete the course. This made me even more nervous and apprehensive. As the long and plentiful breakfast drew to an end Jesper mentioned that his friend Michael was giving him a lift to the start and kindly offered to give me a lift too. I keenly accepted the lift and went back up to the room to finish packing. This turned into a rush due to toilet necessities. I threw the last bits in my bag and made my way down to Michael's car. It was a very short drive to the start (just over 5 minutes), and we arrived with 30 minutes to spare. Most-if-not-all of the other runners were there and many were around the rows of chairs setting out their kit. They were all looking like seasoned trail-runners with their expensive Salomon S-Lab dual hydration backpacks and carbon/titanium walking poles. I on the other hand had an old Camelbak backpack that I'd received as a free gift with a subscription to 'Runners World' magazine a couple of years ago, and didn't have any walking poles. Oh, and the t-shirt I was wearing was my free Brighton Marathon finishers' t-shirt that I'd brought with a view to wear casually rather than to run in. I wore this due to it being a hot and sunny day - the white short-sleeve design would be better in these conditions than the long-sleeve grey t-shirt I was intending to wear. I commandeered a couple of the end chairs and made sure everything was easily accessible for if/when I'd need it after each lap. I got my camera out to take some photos. This wasn't working - the dodgy micro-SD Card adapter that I'd found in-amongst a load of random crap before leaving had come partially unstuck so the connection was lost. After about 10 minutes I managed to get it working by wedging a small splinter of wood in the battery cover to keep the SD adapter pushed together. During this time I'd missed the race briefing and everyone was lined up behind the start line ready to go. I rushed over just getting there as the gun went off and joined the back of the pack. Certainly not the best start to the race.