Four weeks ago I was thinking, "No worries, I've got four weeks to do some training, get myself fit and be ready for the first Vets game of the season."
That was four weeks ago. And now it's little more than 15 hours before I'm due on a rugby pitch somewhere in Buckinghamshire to face the High Wycombe Vets' team. That's the same High Wycombe team that stuffed us twice last season. That's the same High Wycombe team against whom I made my long-awaited comeback appearance last October, after a summer of intense training to get myself in shape and against whom I still struggled horribly. That's the same High Wycombe team I now face on Saturday after six weeks of relative inactivity.
And, to make matters worse, the weather forecast is for a dry, warm and sunny afternoon. Ideal for running rugby. Bugger.
Bottom line is that I'm nowhere near ready. There are plenty of excuses. Both of the avid readers of this blog will no doubt recall that when, over 4 weeks ago, I last ventured out to a club training session, I damaged the knuckle on my left little finger. That sounds somewhat inconsequential, you may think, but believe me it was bloody painful at the time and I still can't grip with my left hand without considerable discomfort. I suspect a fracture.
Of course, a damaged hand does not prevent you from exercising entirely and, admittedly, I have done a little road running but deep down I know that it's nowhere near enough. The new job hasn't helped - although the hours haven't been particularly taxing as yet I've nevertheless sunk into the familiar evening routine of seeking the comfort of a cold beer and the telly rather than the harsh realities of the gym.
So, all in all, I'm nowhere near ready to play on Saturday. Adrenalin, plenty of judiciously placed strapping and a couple of ibruprofen tablets before kick off will have to see me through, I guess.
Wish me luck.