They came back, they took one look at the impertinent time of the Scottish flyer, shook the raw meat from their great beards and attacked the Pure Mountains XC course.

Terrified, nubile women peered out from behind their flamenco fans as the Norwegian warriors let out a huge, spine–chilling roar and obliterated any memory of the hopelessly outclassed white whippet. Gaute broke the four minute barrier with a stupendous 3'58" but incredibly, it wasn’t enough. Ole, we salute you. 3'51". Goodness.

It was sad in a way. Paul Carmichael had had his brief spell in the Spanish sunshine, had dared to hope and for a fleeting moment could feel the prized jersey on his shoulders. But no. Not this year.

The  following week saw David Ward the seven foot tall, twenty five stone giant from Giant come very close to death with a brave but ultimately fruitless attempt on the record. He had prepared himself well, plotted his assault and wore a race face that made grown men tremble. As he accelerated off the start line the power transfer actually rotated the earth slightly before this enormous being blasted away. It all looked so promising until the ‘valley of death’ section but the admirable full commitment to this notorious section proved to be his undoing. The packed crowd gasped as the great man fell to earth, scattering trees and boulders to the four winds. But, as he rose, covered in dust and holding his severed arm, the cheering could be heard in north Africa. Better luck next time big man. (His time, which according to the rules has to include any medical attention, was three and a half hours).

So, an eventful couple of weeks and a new track record.