Late Thursday, as darkness fell on this the eve of the relay race, no doubt, in warm bathrooms and bedrooms all over the peninsula final preparations were taking place. Muscles need massaging, skin needs oiled, fig leaves need checking for size, tans need topped up, beauty needs sleep. The naked runner felt completely alone in the cold and dark of the Argyll night. He found solace in one thought: if he could just keep going, in fifteen short hours, he would tie up with these heroes of the beaten track. He would set his foot in line with their proud strides, he would share their wind.