Back in the groove - and with wings on. This kiddie is smokin'!!!!

After eight days or so of head-down, body aching, painful training, this kiddie burst back on to the international road running scene with a vengeance at the weekend.

Like a well oiled machine, a coiled spring and a meteor waiting to launch itself from a meteor launcher type thing, I exploded with talent, power and speed on Sunday morning.

Yep. I'm back in the big time.

There was a great turn out with many, many locals as well as experienced athletes turning out to see my first race back in the UK since returning from Indialand. I was, of course, in Swanley for their little Christmas Caper. A gruelling 4.2 mile race saw me scythe my way through the field like a spoon through hot butter. I crossed the line in 45.03 and in 393rd position out of 484. Of course I would have finished much, much higher but you must remember that I am just back from a career threatening injury, a near-death encounter with a wild boar, two weeks laid up with a contagious disease and I had a bit of a headache. Plus, of course, I had to keep stopping to sign autographs and the like. So, I was pretty pleased with myself and notched the result down as a kind of step one on my UK comeback trail.

The only blot on the day was the behaviour of my lad The Sod. Supposed to be keeping his old man free of marrauders and stopping the crowd getting too close and impeding me, the little herbert beggared off with barely a glance behind me to finish the course in a little over 37 and a half minutes. I returned to the finish area to see him casually leaning against a tree, looking at his watch and pretending to look bored. I gave him a leathering and took his Christmas Pudding off him. That'll learn him not to respect his father.

But I am so grateful for all those well wishers and women turning out to see me. Bless 'em it must be really quite odd being ordinary. They, of course, knew exactly who I was - but to me, their little faces were just smiley images amongst a sea of bodies. Do you like how I've become all poetic since I came back from Indialand and suffered with my near-death experience?

But I bade them farewell and returned home satisfied and with a cracking bacon buttie inside me.

So, what do you do next after completing your first 4.2 mile run in yonkeroos?

No contest.

You run a marathon.

Thats right. This Sunday is the first Hastings Marathon since 1908. And I'm taking part as a kind of celebrity runner. How exciting is that?

This will be my first run at the full 26.2 mile distance since Paris in April so obviously I'm not going to win the bally thing. In fact, between you and I it could take me some consideable time to complete.

In fact, I'll let you into a secret. Its not all guns and roses being an international icon you know. Even top performers like us have feelings you know. And the feeling I have at the moment is something akin to that I had when I caught that nasty e-cauliflower bug thing from Indialand.

Ronnettes - I am dobbing myself. Is this an act of wanton stupidity? Am I really respecting the diatnce and the event?

Will I survive?

I'll let you know.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

Fit as a fiddle and ready to (g)rumble.

Training is going well for this kiddie. I really feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I'm running like a good 'un, I have a spring in my step and the weight is dropping off me like weight dropping off a fat bloke.

Dunno why I'm feeling so damn good but I intend to grasp the opportunities now making themselves available to me. And that's why I've managed four - yes four - training runs this week. And I've also had my entry confirmed for the Paris Marathon in April - so watch out you Belgiumists!!

First though I'm making a rare public appearance this coming Sunday when the good people of Swanley will be able to see my famous anal credit crunches and pelvic squirt warm-up routine.

I'm bringing a little joy into the hearts of those good people of Swanley by taking part in their little Christmas Caper - a 4.2 mile jaunt through the leafy suburbs of this nice little part of Caravan County.

I'm hoping that as many ordinary people - and women too if they've done the veg - come along to give me a cheer.

After all its not every day of the year you get the chance to see an Olympic icon in the flesh eh?

On Monday I'm off with Ernie and Grandad Stan the Bandana Man to France to get a few hundred Bensons for Ernie's missus' Christmas present. And I might just take the old lycra with me - give them a glimpse of things to come ...

Oh the life of a globetrotter.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

A right old caper

Well, I had my first visit to the racing circuit for some considerable time today when I visited Caravan County for the Swanley Christmas Caper. Yep, whilst that bunch of lightweights, losers, drug cheats and a Welshman were busy enjoying hospitality from the BBC at their Sports Non-Personality of the Year Awards (yes - it does still rankle, OK?), your man here was busy pounding the streets of Kent, getting more miles under my belt. Because that's what you need to do if you're to bring home the Olympic bacon.

I was going to go with my mate Ernie, but a spot of local difficulty with the barmaid at the Carrot & Turnip on Friday night had left him otherwise indisposed. So, I decided to do a touch of community service and collected Granddad Stan the Bandana Man from the Rye Sunshine Home and set off with him.

I have no problem putting a little back into a community that gives me so much in terms of support and fan-worship but sometimes you do wonder. I can put up with the dribble and the frequent toilet stops but the incessant car noises and shrieks of delight every time we pass a lorry do get a bit tiresome.

Anyway, we turn up at Swanley and to be fair I think we found the only 45 minute window with a break in the horrible weather that hit the south east today. It gave me just about enough time to do a bit of flesh pumping and a wander round the race car park to shake hands with a few of those who'd turned out in such nasty weather to see me.

I had to curtail my pre-race programme of anal crunches and pelvic squirts though when Granddad Stan started to cause a bit of a kerfuffle. I'd made the mistake of telling him he could run the race - but that I'd have to enter him on the day. I know this particular road running term has got me into trouble before - particularly on some foreign trips - but Granddad Stan, I'd discovered, was doing his best to destroy the carefully constructed Ron 'brand'. He started telling anybody who would listen to him that the lycra clad 2012 Olympic Gold Medallist hopeful currently doing the one-fingered press-ups was a mate of his. Irritating yes, but fair enough.

Above: Granddad Stan the Bandana Man
But then he started pointing out that the display would need to be curtailed because "He's promised to enter me before the race". Well, for beggars sake, it just didn't go down too well - and I had visions of the Ron brand being destroyed in a flurry of gay sex innuendos. So, I carefully kneed Granddad Stan in the groin - and dragged him away to sort out our numbers for the race. That also irritated me because I had to pay to enter - and as I pointed out to the organisers, I thought it a bit rich inviting me to boost their entry and then rubbing my nose in it by taking ten quid off me.

I enjoyed the run though - came in bang on my target time of 42.47 for the 4.2 mile circuit - I would have done it quicker but I did stop to sign some girl's t-shirt on the way round.

I managed to drag Granddad Stan away from Swanley eventually. The Caper encourages fancy dress and he'd won a prize for the best use of a bandana and primary colours - I didn’t have the heart to tell the organisers that he always dressed that way. I got over his puzzlement at getting a trophy by telling him he'd won a prize for the 1st Vet of No Fixed Abode.

And the trophy came in handy on the way home as it reduced the number of toilet stops.

Then I went home and continued my seethe about my non-appearance on the BBC's farcical Sports Personality of the Year.

I ask you - it was given to a bloke from Wales. That's what's wrong with this country, you know. I've always said that the answer to this country's growing population crisis was very simple. Just ask one question on the Immigration paperwork - "Are you Welsh?” Answer affirmative and you're deported - preferably to France where the two cultures could sit in abject misery. moaning about whatever took their fancy for ever more.

And if you wanted to know the consequences of ignoring that advice then it was there for all to see on our television screens at 9 o’clock when the fighter bloke won the gong.

I really don't know what this country is coming to.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

Still seething - but humble too

I'm still seething about my non appearance on the shortlist for the BBC Sports Personality of the Year Award and, in addition to firing off a letter to Jeremy Paxman, I've decided to send a similar letter to Jonathan Ross seeing as how thinks he's all high and flippin' mighty now.

But, do you know something. I'd no sooner popped the letter in an envelope and sent The Droog off to the GPO when I had this sudden rush of humility. I started thinking about how fortunate I am to have been chosen to take part in the Olympic Games - when most other people don't even get to watch the bally thing never mind take part. And think too of all those poor countries like Biafra, The Ivory Coast, Panama, New Zealand and Wales who will never get to taste the sweet smell of Olympic success.

And it got me thinking again about great it is to be an Olympic hopeful.

I couldn't wait to share them with you - so here are my 10 reasons why it feels great to be an Olympic hopeful:

1. The Half Share in the House has started running 10 miles a day. Fantastic. She's reached Edinburgh now.

2. I get to experience heavy breathing every day rather than twice a year and birthdays.

3. Running as an Olympian is free and cheaper than the gym. And people wave at you more!

4. If you go for a run first thing in the morning, by the time you've woke up, you've finished!

5. Gym exercises are stupid. If God had meant us to touch our toes, he'd have put five on each eyebrow.

6. You can invite a friend to accompany you on a 20 mile training run - then tell them you'll catch them up. Then turn round after a mile and go home for a bacon sandwich. Childish maybe - but funny. And OK its nothing to do with being an Olympian - and my mate Ernie can't run 20 miles anyway.

7. There are occasions during the year when your stomach covers your flabby thighs.

8. Run each day and you die healthier.

9. If you are going to do cross-country running, start with a small country.

10. Running helps memory retention

10. Running helps memory retention.

So, I'm off to Caravan County this Sunday to see all my fans in the Swanley area. I'll be going through my routine of anal crunches and pelvic squirts just prior to the start of the Swanley Christmas Caper - so, if you're anywhere near England, why not come along and touch my lycra?

Keep on tapering.

Ron

Not on your life!

Don't you just like it when a plan comes together.

Your man here went into the weekend full of optimism. I was up for a swift 10 mile dash along the seafront in the Thanet 10 Mile event. I usually enjoy my trips to Caravan County and my appearance there, I know, would have boosted the turnout, with a legion of Ronettes planning on bowling up to cheer me on.

But I didn't go.

I bottled out.

Why?

Because my friends it was cold. It was cold, it was wet - and it was blowing a chuffing gale. So I went for plan B and went down the Cabbage and Turnip for a couple of snifters. Yes, I know it was wimpish but you just can't mess around with an elite athlete's body. I know it was a shame because, as well as greeting my Ronettes, I desperately wanted to get back in to racing mode - but, my return will have to wait another week and for my visit to Swanley next Sunday.

However, you'll be pleased to know though that my training over the last two weeks has gone swimmingly well. I've managed to get 20 or so miles a week under my belt - albeit most of them have been down at Stallones, my local Muscle Emporium.

I've also spent a little time trying to develop my racing strategy for 2008. With only four years to go before the 2012 Olympics I really need to up the ante regarding my personal appearances and media profile. I was desperately disappointed not to have been nominated for the BBC Sports Personality of the Year and I'll be firing a letter off to Jeremy Paxman to make my feelings abundantly plain.

Anyway, bringing you up to speed with my activities over the Autumn, I made my annual trip to Amsterdam, which is a city in a place called Europe, in October for the Marathon. Although I had no intention of running the full distance, I had high hopes of a nippy time in the Half Marathon. But I got hit with a beggar of an injury and had to sit the event out.

Above: They 'P' in the streets in Holland! Standards have not improved in Europe.
What made it even more of a bind was that I went with the Nice Work chaps and they literally left me holding the bags! Yep, I was like some mum at a fairground, weighed down with kit bags, running gear and various valuables. That's fine - but I had to sit there for some six chuffing hours in that concrete Olympic Stadium of theirs! And guess what? Yes, it was flippin' cold again.

Above: Some of my Ronettes in the stadium in Amsterdam
Anyway I did manage to slope off for a bit of R 'n' R and strangely enough, I found myself in some dodgy bar down the red light area. I was quite happy enjoying my Leffe when in walked a bloke with a pet alligator under his arm.

He put the alligator up on the bar and announced to all and sundry "I will open this alligator's mouth and place my genitals inside. Then the beast will close his mouth for one minute. He will then open his mouth and I will remove my bits unscratched. In return for witnessing this spectacle, each of you can buy me a beer."

Well I, for one, was up for this spectacle - so I chucked my couple of euros on the bar. At which, the chap stood up on his bar stool, dropped his kex, and placed his privates in the alligator's open mouth.

Then the alligator closed his mouth.

After a minute, the man grabbed a beer bottle and whacked the alligator hard on the top of its head. The alligator opened his mouth and the man removed his genitals unscathed.

Well, was I impressed!!

The crowd cheered and the first of his free beers was handed to him.

The man emptied his glass, stood up again and made another offer. "I will pay anyone in the audience who is willing to give this a try 100 euros."

Not many takers I have to say, until, after a minute or so, a hand went up in the back of the bar. And this blonde woman timidly spoke up.

"I'll give it a try. But you have to promise not to hit me on the head with the beer bottle."

Keep on tapering

Ron

But the show is back on the road

Despite my poor showings this Autumn - all down to a lack of training time plus a bit of a lifestyle issue - I've actually knuckled down over the last fortnight. the Half Share in the House has been very encouraging - she hoyed all my Leffes in the bin! The kids have also padlocked the fridge and, to top it all, I've pulled on the famous Ron Lycra again. Two weeks of intensive training has seen me start to regain my shape.

I'm now offically Oval - an improvement on my Round figure at the start of my new-found enthusiasm. My racing calendar is also starting to fill up and I'm off to Caravan County on Sunday morning to have a bash at the Thanet Coastal 10.

To be honest, it'll be nice to be back amongst my fans and I'm looking forward to carrying out my famous one-fingered press ups on the sea front on Sunday morning. The week after I thought the good people of Swanley would like a PA, so I'm off for the Swanley Christmas Caper. On the 16th I've been honoured to have been selected to be the official starter for the Kent Christmas Cracker in Deal - a feat I'm repeating a week later on the 22nd in Battle at the Christmas Pudding Dash.

So, I'm hoping that within the next four weeks or so, I'll be back to performing more or less world record times.

That's more like it.

2012?

Bring it on - your man is back!!

Keep on tapering.

Ron