I know, I know...no commitment, no dedication, no backbone but, to be fair, it had been lashing down all day and was still doing so this evening and, let's face it, I'm only contemplating a comeback at Vets level - I'm not some twenty-something tyro keenly competing for a first team spot. Had I been 15 or 20 years younger no doubt I would have been out there trudging away in the wet, but I'm nearly 43 and there are times when you just have to act your age.
I can take a little solace from the fact that I followed up last Tuesday's hard club session with a tough hill run on Thursday (having decided it would be foolhardy to risk aggravating the contact injuries I'd picked up on Tuesday by attending another club training session last week) and a heavy gym workout on Friday.
However, with two weeks holiday on the island of Menorca starting this Friday, that only leaves me 2 days to squeeze in some fitness work as it will now be September before I'm back training at the club. I might even have to take my trainers on holiday, heaven forbid.
And anyway, it was the wrong kind of rain.