It's all over now.
The birthday frock has been put away for another year and the social diary is bereft of entries. I can now start running again.
Only 16 weeks to go until I'm dying in Beachy Head at the top of the cliff rather than the bottom.
I just got a bit of literature through including my race number - 384.
It's definitely not the course for my dream sub 3 hour mark. There will be a total ascent of 3500 feet with gates, stiles, bridges, cattle grids and several flights of steps.
Even one of the sets of toilets is at the top of 227 steps.
So, I am really knuckling down. I have it all planned out and I will be spending July and August pushing myself to the limit.
I don't want to let you down now, do I?
The B&B is booked with my very top pals Kwasi and Claire driving the wife and I down and we will make a weekend of it, if I make it round, of course.
Even with all this prior knowledge, however, I can't wait to get started. I just need to go and find a farm at the top of a hill to train on. Not many of them near Central London.
Today I did the run home from work - 6 miles in 45 minutes. And it was hot and sticky.
Then I did my core exercises, good stretching and a 5 minute exercise bike cool down.
Bring it on you mothers.
Oh, and rest in peace MJ (I'm willing to overlook the last 20 years)