Bad day at the office

The day before the marathon, the Leinster cross country championships took place in Wicklow. While four of us had been signed up from the club, only three of us eventually made our way down.
The night before, the clocks went back. An extra hour in bed would be always welcome. As it was a Saturday, although I was racing the next day, I figured one small glass of wine while I relaxed after a long working week would be nice. And sure, I had the extra hour in bed. Boardwalk empire and two glasses later I realised I had drank nearly the whole bottle, and it was almost midnight. Ah, but the extra hour.
It turns out, kids don't appreciate the extra hour in bed, and at 7.30 I was duly woken by my 4 year old. 'Get up daddy, it's morning time'. But sure the race was on a two, so plenty of time to shake of the slightly groggy head I had woken up with.
We got to the venue well ahead of time, having overestimated the time it would take. We walked the course. It was going to be tough! The downhill section was very steep, covered in leaves and narrowed to a point where no more than three runners would fit at a time. The uphill section was practically vertical! Funnily, I wasn't as apprehensive about the uphill.
When our turn came, it was a big masters field. There were 111 runners, and we were all about to try to squeeze into a very tight space.
It was 3x2k laps. Shortly after the start we all funnelled into the tight downhill space, and it really unsettled me. I really had to put on some brakes going down the hill, while other competitors sped down with what I considered reckless abandonment! It's always on my mind that if I go over on an ankle or worse, then I can't work, and that's quite important, so maybe I was just being over cautious.
I resolved to make up some time on the uphill sections, which I did pretty well, passing a few runners. My plan however, was destined to fail. After two laps of pushing very hard up the hills, and taking the downhills gingerly, I was spent. The uneven effort left me struggling on the last lap, and I was passed easily by many I had passed previously. You could say a typical mistake of inexperience, but I didn't have that excuse.
One of my club mates, whom I had beaten twice over the same cross county distance over the last four weeks, finished a very respectable 30th, as against my rather paltry 62nd, with 1:24 between us.
I can blame the course, the wine, the hour, but ultimately, I just didn't run well.
I consoled myself on Monday with 11 miles at 7:20 pace, after tracking my club mates progress during the marathon. I had intended to go in to support, but we had a death in the family, and events took over, and I needed to get out to clear my head. It was one of those times you really appreciate being alone, in the fresh air, and distracted by the enjoyment of the countryside.
I have started a tentative training plan for London. Working gradually upwards from here, stripping back some of the runs to build core fitness again. A 7 mile tempo today at 6:45 felt very easy, which was the point, I would normally try it at a 6:20 - 6:30 pace, and find it tough.
The weather has been brilliant lately, long may it last for the training runs.