Having spent his career avoiding racing for fear he'd enjoy it too much Kyle is persuaded to get a Nomex suit and take part in a 12-hour relay race in a Mazda MX-5. With surprising results.

A comment that was said when I undertook work experience at Autocar magazine over twelve years ago has followed me in my career thus far: "There are too many wannabe racing drivers in this profession." It's a sentiment that I've long agreed with, even if the person who said it to me has since gone on to prove himself as a useful hand in a race car. Me? I've driven a few racing cars, but outside the odd bit of karting with my mates I've avoided actual racing.

That is until an email lands in my inbox from Mazda. Seems it has a spare seat in a 12-hour race and wondered if I'd like to fill it? Honestly, my first reaction is no thanks. After all, despite having driven a few racing cars, I've avoided actually racing them. My fascination to see what it'd be like driving a racing car with the added pressure of passing (and no doubt being passed) gets the better of me though.

The small issue of not having a racing licence - just two weeks before the race - is quickly resolved. Cue lots of calls, the delivery of an MSA (Motor Sport Association) starter pack and a frantic search for a nearby and timely ARDS course. Thankfully, Mazda put me in touch with Mark Hales, who'll be both my team-mate and mentor throughout the entire process. He gets a date sorted for my test.

A bit of tuition with Mark on track at Castle Combe on Monday, my test early afternoon, a hastily arranged medical and some paperwork filling and I'm good to go.

Clutching a piece of paper saying I've passed I arrive at Snetterton on the Friday. Team Jota is running Mazda's cars, and compared to the back-of-a-van-and-a-few-mates operations that most of the teams here are made up of Jota look terribly professional. I enter the pit garage and see 'my' racing Mazda MX-5, with my name (and five others) stuck to the wing. It's all a bit serious, not least as I've never driven around Snetterton before. Oh, and I'll be 'qualifying' in the dark.

By qualifying I mean creating a moving chicane. Team leader Sam says there's no pressure, and really there isn't from the team, but I don't want to go out and be the team tugboat. Racetracks at night are like nothing else and I feel my way around the required laps - at a rather pedestrian pace - and hand the car over to the team's proper racers, Mark Ticehurst and Mark Hales. Everyone else makes it round safely, with Ticehurst setting a time quick enough for the front row on Saturday. No pressure then...

Ticehurst starts the race on Saturday morning at 9am, finishing the first of his two stints in first place. Guess who's out next? Thankfully, this is a relay race, so rather than awkwardly scramble into Ticehurst's hot seat I'm already trussed up in an identical MX-5 waiting in the garage. Ticehurst arrives, I wait the mandatory three minutes for each pit-stop and then I pull out onto the track with no idea what I've let myself in for.

An hour, that's what, and despite my pit garage fears that I'll be nothing more than a mobile chicane I'm lucky enough to join the track with clear space. That gives me the chance to learn the circuit, my four previous laps at night meaning I'm hardly what you'd call familiar with the layout.

Mark Ticehurst, a proper racing driver, has been lapping consistently in the 2 minutes 22 seconds region. My first lap is 2 minutes 48 seconds, and our pit-stop takes us from first to tenth position. Thankfully I'm not in traffic, so my second lap is 14 seconds quicker, before chipping that down to 2 minutes 30 seconds for a number of laps. Eight seconds off Mark's pace, but then this is my first ever race... That drops to 2.29, then 2.28, my stint relatively traffic free save for the odd slower back-marker where 'my' car's greater speed makes for relatively easy passes.

Near the end of my stint I see a full course yellow. Taking the opportunity I say I'm coming in over the radio, saving us time on a pit-stop, though cutting my run by a lap or two. It's the right decision though, pitting when the rest of the field laps slowly under caution.

There's been little time to think in the car, just drive. Analysing my lap times with the other drivers it's clear there's speed to be gained, the two Marks giving pointers, suggesting suitable gears, though saying I've done a decent job. So far.

Jota's clever pit strategy, and use of its faster drivers, sees car no. 75 consistently sitting in the top five, and it's time for my second stint. After relative consistency in my first session I'm convinced I can lap a regular 2 minutes 27 seconds, heading out onto the now dark track to try and achieve that.

Night changes everything. It's working for me though, the lack of distractions - save for a driving light that's intermittently flickering on and off - allows me to concentrate on lapping quickly. I'm doing 2.28s, though find a bit of time, running a number of 2.27s and even managing the odd 2.26. Feeling like I'm contributing now rather than holding everyone up it's an amazing experience, dicing with the nimble mkI MX-5s I catch, and running quickly enough to keep the front runners honest - relatively at least.

I'm out for about 50 minutes, but it's over so quickly, the MX-5's excellent balance and easy driving nature mean I'm not as tired as I expected getting out. I've achieved what I set out to too, and the Jota guys congratulate me on speed and consistency.

It's late now, and some hot laps in seriously talented hands sees us contending for a podium. Third is a certainty after 11 hours, with ten minutes or so to go second place is looking like a real possibility. A chance full course yellow and handy driving gives us exactly that, so my first time as a racing driver sees me take a podium finish. I'm elated for sure, but I played a tiny part. The team's preparation of the car and the real drivers - the two Marks - made it all possible. So racing? It's as fun as I thought it would be, damn it. What next?