Game on for the trainers' title - but I'm watching from afar as my National dreams are soon dashed

We’re not standing but we are starting. Some faster than others, as Mr Incredible is having second, third and possibly even fourth thoughts as I gallop past him. He’s the only horse I will pass, unfortunately.

Stattler gallops through the mist of sand kicked up by the 30 horses ahead of us and the first fence appears in between the gaps in the tails and breeches. We cross it well, Stattler relieved that at least it’s not a bank. I see a flash of purple and yellow silks on the grass. The loose horse is just in front of us as we rush to the second but he ducks left at the last moment and careers into another horse in mid-air before skidding out of view on the landing side. Better they skid out of view than into view in these situations generally.

It’s actually unusual to be watching on from the back like this. I’ve never gone out with a plan to hunt around for the first lap in the National before. A head appears on my inside as the big ditch looms. Mr Incredible has caught up. His instructions were not to hunt around for the first lap, but here he is.