What happened to the time?

Well things accelareted a bit over the summer.  As my big race got closer, I seemed to be losing the will to blog and I didn't post for a while.  My training however was going well.  I went over the first stage of the run; 18 kilometres for 1500 metres of altitude.  It was hot, hard work.  In addition the course hadn't been marked yet, so in a couple of places I got a little lost.  The first 5km was okay, a steep climb followed by a long descent into the head of a valley.   Unfortunately the ground was very damp and my feet were quickly soaked.  The next part was a very steep climb with sections traversing steep slopes of scree.  I lost my path, and I have to admit my cool.  I finally scrambled over the last pass and saw the last 5km of the path unravelling before me.  I felt that I hadn't run much, and the three-hour objective had turned into 4 hours.  I was able to jog over the last kilometres, and consoled myself that my longer than planned time was due to doubts about the track.  The next day I felt pretty pleased, as I was not aching too much, and I feel pretty confident that as I knew what to expect I would be faster on the day.   In between I did some short runs, plenty of exercises and stretches.  Of course there was also a long mountain walk in between.  
Then I ran over the second stage of the big race, easier, but still 18 kilometres for 894 metres of altitude.  The weather wasn't great, cloudy and cool.  I was able to make use of the fleece that the race rules require that runners carry.  Once again my feet were quickly soaked and I made a mental note to pack a change of socks.  The other problem was the lack of indications on the path to follow, particularly towards the end, but I expected this to be better on the day.
Ten days holiday by the sea, with some short runs and one long mountain walk, and suddenly the big day had arrived.