In the thirteen and a half years I have lived in this town, I have never gotten my free fries, available one day a year during the spud festival. Usually because I am working and thus was the case yesterday as well: work.
And the thing I had to do was the fish-potato run. An annual run/race from the village of Urk (which lives of the fish) to the town of Emmeloord (which sets the Dutch potato price) of 12,8km (8 miles). Fortunately though I didn't have to run it (it was way too hot for that), but I drove the runners to Urk. My second run was to the half-way point where I would have to wait until everybody had passed and then take any stragglers, injured, tired and so forth on the bus and take them back. Despite the temperature I only had two giver-uppers, but I did see everybody fly, run and struggle past.
Of course I hadn't taken my camera with me and so I didn't get any photos. But the winner was some small black dude from Kenya who was so fast I never would have gotten the chance to take a proper photo anyway! I found a photo online and even the professional had trouble!
Now to stay with the spirit of the race and the name, everybody who finished got some fish and a sack of potatoes. Plus a gold medal of course for the winner!