So I did everything within my power to try to make sure that it didn't happen. Admittedly, the punishing new fitness regime I had concocted didn't work out as planned. Instead I learnt the Bahrain International Circuit on my PS2 so I could find my way around it in my sleep.
I studied the form of my competitors and worked out who I would need to beat, and how. Jay Kay I would get minging drunk the night before, but Nick Mason I would have to resort to more sinister methods of sabotage.
I used my feminine charms to secure Herbert as my co-driver. I even had my tarot cards read for any potential supernatural assistance and tried not to look worried when the Death card came up three times in as many minutes.
And, just in case Jenson Button had a vacancy for a hot bitch to lie on his yacht, I went on two sunbeds and bought a new bikini.
And so to the desert. The Bahrain International Circuit is an incredible facility. It's like a magical kingdom plonked in the middle of the desert; a surreal sight. But not as surreal as sitting in the support pits surrounded by Olympic Gods and pop stars.
I felt like Chantelle in Big Brother, but only briefly, because as soon as the four-hour safety briefing, race briefing and driver's briefing kicked off, I just felt increasingly nervous. For the first time, I thought I might actually die.
'I learnt the Bahrain International Circuit on my PS2 so I could find my way around it in my sleep' For me, the only moments of light relief all morning were clocking Rick Parfitt's footwear (socks and hotel slippers as he had only brought cowboy boots) and seeing Simon Webbe (formerly of boyband Blue) take off his sweater. I nearly fell off my chair.
Apart from that, with our shocked faces and bug eyes, we looked like a trauma support group. Nick Mason, veteran of these briefings, said afterwards it was the scariest one he had ever sat through.
Oh well, I thought, at least we've got three days of practice. Er, no. The F1 drivers had taken over our allocated track time. It really is all 'me, me, me' with those guys. Now we only had one hour of track time - for 16 people to practise in four two-seater cars.
Then on Friday there'd be two qualifying sessions, one for celebs and one for pros, and then 10-lap races on Saturday and Sunday, with the pros doing the first stint then handing over to the celebs.
To make matters worse, my practice didn't go well. Firstly, me, a Middle Eastern pop star and Bruno Senna were taken for an exploratory lap in a BMW 5-Series. It got a flat tyre: end of track familiarisation. Then it was time for my racing practice in a two-seater with an instructor, and things started going properly pear-shaped.
For a start, I couldn't hear a word he was saying above the din of the V8. The circuit was, indeed, extremely technical in places and undulated like a mountain range with sneaky cambers - not something you would learn from the PS2 - and I began to wonder if I was more likely to find Elvis Presley polishing the Holy Grail than the racing line.