Orange, Orange and more Orange

So, off I went to Holland at the weekend. My motives were two-fold. First of all to resume my relentless but inevitable journey towards Olympic Gold in 2012; and secondly to do, if you like, a spot of missionary work amongst some of our poorer European allies.

Holland is very orange and as a nod of the cap towards the Dutch people I decided it would be appropriate to wear my new all-in-one Orange lycra running strip.

So, off we set with the Nice Work party - and a right motley, rum sodden bunch they turned out to be! Perfect company I thought. Before landing in Holland we visited somewhere called Netherland and I trekked for ages trying to find that Martin Jackson's ranch but gave up looking. I never liked his music anyway.

Amsterdam was bustling when we got there sometime late in the afternoon and I decided a couple of tubes of the local hooch was in order. Well, that was more or less it until I started feeling a touch peckish. There was a cafe next door to the bar so I popped in for a couple of cakes and a coffee ... well goodness knows what they put in their pastries but I can tell you that I felt like I'd got banjaxed by a steam hammer!

After I'd apologised to the policeman I decided to call it a day and get some shut eye. But do you know, waking up on Sunday morning I felt a familar stirring. And despite having decided to decline the offer of a celebrity place in their Half Marathon - I just felt that I'd be letting down Queen and Country. So, to mimic the words of Bobby Davro, I decided to "Give it a Go Barney".

And my, am I glad I did.

I decided to run in the 7.5K race. And as I lined up outside the Olympic Stadium I could feel the spirits of all those Ancient Italians who are immortalised in the Olympic movement. And you know I think they were trying to tell me something. I could feel a kind of Olympic aura emanating from these ancient Olympians through this Olympic Stadium built in 1928 and then through to yours truly - and as I looked up at the glorious blue sky my thoughts turned to 2012 and my place on that Olympic podium.

Inspired? You bet your middle dollar I was.

So, I decided to treat the locals to my famous anal crunch and pelvic squirt warm-up - but, dear reader, let me advise you of one thing. Never try this famous Ron routine in skin tight Orange lycra. Apology Number 2 required to the local constabulary.

My race was a masterful display of tactics, strategy and sheer animal speed. Once again, I scythed my way through an international field of elite athletes. I finished the race in 49.26 - which wasn't quite a BP but having pipped one Kenyan to the line, how delighted was I to discover that I'd only gone and done it arund an hour quicker than the Kenyan bloke who won the marathon?

OK, maybe he did run a bit further than I did - but, hey, whose fault was that? Nobody asked him to run all that way did they?

After receiving my medal and a quick peck from the Queen or somebody we retired to the bar to celebrate.

I have to say, Ronnettes, I was chuffed to bits to pull on the vest once again - after such a lengthy absence I realised just how much I'd missed the cut and thust of international competition.

That's my lot though for foreign travel for a little while. I'm due to vist Belgium again in March and I also have races planned in Paris, which is near Franec, Luxembourg, Norway, The Somme and India amongst other places next year. Before then I do have a couple of celebrity appearances to make. I realise I have some work to do to get my fitness back on track - and I need to work hard at raising the old profile again.

I'll be in Beckley on Sunday - and I've got my Summer round up to come too. But in the words of that bloke who does the weather on BBC2 - that's the lot for tonight.

Keep on tapering.

Ron