Here are the highlights then.
I had a kind of guilty feeling that I wasn't sure Jon really knew what he'd let himself in for, and he forgot some stuff, I think his backpack, so had problems carrying stuff, he was going to run bits, and walk bits. But he knew I was set on running, and he waved me off. And it was wonderful in its familiarity this time, and the farmer where we'd stayed told us that it was the wettest part of Cumbria, and it always rained there, and that it would surely be not raining immediately outside. And, as for last year, so it proved. It didn't rain VERY hard, anyway, but even through the rain, the atmosphere was beautiful. Ghosts of last year's runners popped into my head.
I chatted to a few people, and was talking to a young lad when I overtook some of his team on Dunmail Rise. Again, I failed to see my crew, but this time, I had everything I wanted in my pack. As we descended, I started talking to the fellow that I'd passed at Dunmail Rise, who wanted to know how I knew his teammate. We had a chat, and then passed on. Around Grassmere, I remember talking to an elderly chap who had an odd gait, and I wondered (aloud) if he was in fact a speed walker. He considered this, and then said, "No, I reckon this is the Ultra-shuffle", which I took on with good heart.
Again, the green-mac guy caught up with me, and we engaged in chat, pretty much for the rest of the way. I didn't think we would, but there you have it. It was clearly a strategy he'd adopted before, and while I quite like the coming and going of different people, he certainly could talk (and we know I don't struggle in that department), so we got off to a flying conversation about politics and religion, and other subjects you aren't to mention at dinner parties. But this definitely wasn't a dinner party. I also told him about my running exploits, and various running themes, ideas and chums were mulled over, not least Chris' legendary comment about finding a nice arse, and following it. I got a few compliments at this juncture!
I did lose him for a while, when he went off to see his "crew", I remember after joining the Coniston lot, seeing a girl wearing a rain coat I had bought years ago, it looked very nice on her, so I told her what good taste she had. I also was following a chap wearing my fluorescent yellow cycle jacket, he was less engaging about stealing my coat, but I did feel that my wardrobe had been rifled before coming out. Along the Coniston Lake, realising that I wasn't going to meet Heather, I changed my tops (now safely in my backpack, in a ziplock bag) and once again, the dry clothes did good things to my psyche. As did the chocolate croissant that Jon had purchased for me. It was also around this point that I met Stew on his bicycle, on the lookout for Chan.
Ben caught up with me, and we kept going, although he'd calculated a brilliant time for me on the basis of my first half (I've always been bad at this, but he'd run 7, or 8 times, and was also seemingly good at it. However, I knew the second half would be a slog, and it was. It seemed hillier than I remembered it, and Ben was clear that he didn't want to run up the hills. I could have gone on, of course, but I was pretty tired too, and it seemed ungrateful to abandon him. And so much easier not to. But as we neared Dalton, I realised that it was going to take everything in me to keep going. I recalled exactly every bit of this route, so I wasn't fooled into thinking I was nearly anywhere, when I bloody wasn't. But the mile markers said I was 3 miles away, and on the one hand, that meant I'd run 37, but on the other, at the speed I was going, that was a lot over half an hour. And when you've run for 37 miles, another half an hour seems like an eternity, not "nearly there". I realised that I had no energy to run at someone else's pace. I was going to get into a 12 minute mile plod, and that would get me over the finish line. I didn't explain, but I didn't wait for Ben either, and it was quite a surprise 2 and half miles later to find him just behind me. I had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't have made that time without the push of not falling behind, but I didn't voice it. We still had that hill to get up, and I would take any encouragement I could get. He gave it.
I
finished in 7h43 minutes, or thereabouts. Chan came in after me, but it
turned out that she'd been delayed getting to the start, so her time
was 7h 27, which was amazing. She's already talking about taking another
half hour off for next year. I kind of think I could get another 20
minutes off my time too... but I think we'll struggle to get another
team together next time! Jon and I stayed in the Queen's Arms in
Biggar, which is really the most charismatic place you could stay, and
enjoyed our team breakfast in the morning, although disappointingly not
many of the team made it. Running Dave has sworn never to do that stupid
race again, after spending the last 15 miles with cramp, and Nigel and
his misses went off to catch up with other friends in a not very
team-like fashion! 
Still a bloody incredible thing to do. I don't have pictures this year, as I didn't have a pal (or a camera), but did get a couple of shots from the "experts" where I'm looking surprisingly fresh. They posted the pics on the facebook page, which is absolutely brilliant, and makes quite a change from most race-photos. You do kind of feel like you deserve your picture though!
Here's my favourite picture - clearly need to try harder, as I am at about 28 miles, and don't look like I'm really struggling:
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