You're going to have to sit down

What I have to say to you now may come as a great shock - so I suggest you take a seat somewhere comfortable.

I travelled not far away from here to a small event called the Baa Baa 5K. It takes place in New Romney, close to Romney Marsh and a place populated by a race of people with an unhealthy interest in sheep. They say that the people from the Romney Marsh were the first people to discover that the insides of the sheep could be used as a contraceptive. It was some decades later that the process was advanced so that the insides were taken out of the sheep first.

But I digress.

Still with leg stitched, I decided to take part in this little 5K race. The Half Share had beggared off in the grown-ups 10K race which was for people that didn't have stitches in their leg. So, as I stood on the start line batting away small kids pestering me for autographs - there's a time and a place you know. As is my practice I looked around at the competition and, admittedly, I have been in stronger and bigger fields. There were around 50 or so lined up. A few runners, a few kids, a few walkers.

Then the gun went and I was away with my usual blistering pace. After about 500 yards I noticed something rather disconcerting. About 30 yards ahead was a car. It was moving slowly, with its hazard lights flashing. It was as though it was ... well, it looked like ... hang on ... it is/was ... it was the lead car!

Ahead of me I saw a couple of runners and a woman ... and that was it. Apart from a snotty-nosed kid in a woollen running top (please, New Romney, you don't have to wear sheep all the time!).

Then it dawned on me. I was in the leading pack!

Another 200 yards further down the road and I was into second place, having left the others eating my dust. Having never been this far north of the pack before I was a little unsure of running etiquette. When you pass a leading runner, what do you do? Do you apologise? Do you wish him good luck for the rest of the race? Being unsure I just gave him the middle finger and told him/her to get a shove on. And then, after 800 yards, something happened that I didn't think would happen until the summer of 2012.

I found myself leading a race.

Well I damn near dobbed myself.

What happens next? I had no idea - having never been in that position before. And, you know, leading a race is not actually all that its made out to be. Leading a race brings with it lots of unwelcome responsibilities. If you're leading, all the spectators are watching you - so there's no hiding place. I couldn't stop for a blow. I just had to keep running.

The race was run over 2 laps and so, for the rest of the distance I was the one to catch. But, Ronettes, there was no way. Nobody but nobody was going to take that lead away from me. So, I carried on and on and on and on until the finish line was in sight. A quick glance behind to see where the second placed runners was, another display of blistering speed and that was it, I was propelled over the line to break a tape (yes - a tape!!) and crossed to finish first in 31 mins 3 seconds. To, I must say, a tumultuous round of applause from the gathered spectators and the bloke on the PA system. Indeed if it wasn't for the bloke on the PA asking me over for a post race interview I was due to make a visit to his tent for a quiet word anyway. Because the only thing to take the gloss of my magnificent victory was his commentary as I came to start the second lap and I heard him announce "Oh no! There's a bloke jogging behind the lead car. Oh sorry., Hang on. No, he's the leader". Cheeky blighter.

So there you have it.

I won. I won a real race. With real people. Me. I came first in a race. I won, I won, i won.

I won.

Keep on tapering.

Ron.