The journey over to Northern Ireland was uneventful. Everything ran to time but by the time we reached the youth hostel in Newcastle it was time for bed.
After a short lie-in this morning we started the day with bacon, sausage, egg, tomato, hash browns - well I did, H was more professional. Then it was over to the Mourne Mountains to recce tomorrows race.
At 4 miles it's the first of the two short British fell championship races - but bugger me it's up and down - there was less climb when I climbed the north face of the Eiger in the Eiger Sanction - no hang on, that was Clint Eastwood. I have a suspicion I might struggle.
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