I'VE had another brilliant week in the saddle despite the fact that I started Bank Holiday Monday rolling around in the mud.
My training yard, Peel Hall near Frodsham, had a really good week too with a placed horse at Kelso on Tuesday and a winner at Cheltenham last night.
Nothing lifts spirits in the yard like winning horses and now the pressure is starting to build that I keep up the high standards with a strong showing at Bangor on Saturday week.
After tempting fate last Thursday with my foolish comments about not yet leaving the saddle it was almost inevitable that I would take a tumble at the weekend.
But after the heavy downpours at the back end of last week at least there was plenty of funky mud around to catch my fall.
Thankfully, like with every step of my training so far, my noble steed Jack (aka Horton-Cum-Peel) made sure that my first experience was kind and forgiving.
My tumble was more to do with the fact that 'Laid Back Jack' slipped in the mud as we were crossing fields and as he went down like the Titanic I actually never left the saddle until my left arm was practically already elbow deep in sludge.
Thankfully, both of us had nothing more than our egos bruised, but bizarrely it actually boosted my confidence levels.
Tick that box, the pressure is off now and – as predicted – recounting the tale proved the highlight so far for my friends and family.
I also popped my Point-to-Point cherry later in the day.
My mentor Will Kinsey had four rides at the South Shropshire Hunt at Eyton-on-Severn and I got to tag along and get the jockey's eye view of a day at the races.
Despite not having any of his own horses in action, Will and pal Richard Burton, the three-time amateur champion, were both kept busy in front of a packed crowd – which included straight-faced men in bowler hats and tweed jackets.
The race organisers also allowed me to ride along with the starter for the final race, which gave me the opportunity to get a taste of life on the starting line.
Jostling for position while keeping one eye on the starter, one on your horse’s position and one on all your rivals (how many eyes is that?) is certainly a skill that only comes with experience.
And so is leaping 16 fences without being catapulted from the saddle.
Unfortunately, both Will and Richard were unable to land a winner – 'Unlucky Nick' could well be my new nickname – but Kinsey bounced back on Tuesday night with that third place at Kelso aboard Flashy Boy.
And he topped that last night by riding Hip Pocket to win a Hunt final at Cheltenham.
Ronnie, as he is known on the yard, is actually owned by my sports physiologist George Wilson and his pals and I know they all woke this morning with heavy heads.
Fingers crossed now that Will can match that aboard anther of the stables top racers, Would Wouldn't, at Aintree tomorrow.
I'll be cheering from the rails as he looks to maintain his recent form.
My bizarre jelly hangovers
SOMEHOW, somewhere I've picked up a nasty sweet tooth over the past few weeks.
I've always been so much more of a savoury kind of guy. Give me a good quality cheeseboard over a luxury chocolate cake any day of the week.
But, after discovering that jellies carry 0% of fat I've been unable to resist the urge to gorge myself on wine gums, jelly beans and jelly babies.
My teeth are taking a good kicking, but at least I am not putting on any weight and it's also solved my problem of bingeing late at night when I am bored.
The only problem is that jellies are terrible for you. You get a good solid sugar kick, but I've been crashing in the morning and waking up with bizarre Haribo hangovers.
I recall reporting on a world title fight almost 10 years ago when former WBU flyweight champion Peter Culshaw narrowly held onto his crown at Everton Park after 12 rounds with South African Zolile Mbityi.
'The Choirboy' was awful that night and had to come through the hard way to retain his crown before later revealing he had suffered stomach cramps throughout.
The problem? He had been munching through bag after bag of jelly beans before the fight.
Swing needs close attention
I AM meeting up with my tennis coach for the first time tonight for a knock about so he can judge exactly how much work we have to do before challenge three - to play a match at the Liverpool International Tournament - is served up in six weeks.
And hopefully things will go much better than my flirtation with challenge four at the weekend.
I dusted off my clubs and headed onto the first tee at Bowring Park on Saturday morning, taking advantage of the good weather with an easy four-ball with friends.
However, with the ladies competition breathing down our necks on the first tee the pressure of swinging a club for the first time since last summer ensured that the first couple of holes were complete right offs.
By the time we reached the fourth, played parallel to the M62, my team was already three holes down. But thankfully my trusty three wood came alive in the nick of time.
Unfortunately, my card was packed with a lot more bogeys than pars, while I never caught a glimpse of a birdie until I addressed the barmaid in the 19th hole.
I'm going to have to start hitting the fairways with a gusto if my plans to play a round at Royal Birkdale prior to the Open Championship in July are to be realised.
