Still hanging onto his dreams of playing in the pros at the ripe old age of 35, we sent head of content Alex Brown down to Bath Rugby to be put through his paces...
The desire to be a pro rugby player has never really disappeared. I had a taste of what life in the professional world was like as a teenager playing youth rugby at Northampton Saints (sorry Bath fans). Sadly, at the age of 35, the glory days seem a long time ago.
But despite being older than almost every player still playing in the Guinness Premiership (thank you Nick Easter) and despite ending my own rugby career at Taibach RFC in South Wales, the feeling that "I could still do that" remained strong... until I met Matt Pickard.
Matt is the strength and conditioning coach at Bath Rugby. Matt set up a training session for me after I approached the club to see if they would give me another peek at life as a pro. Matt took away my dream!
The day started off so well. I wrapped up that week's edition of the Chronicle and headed off to Farleigh House. This was a real eye-opener itself.
The beautiful surroundings could only be compared to leaving my comprehensive school in the Midlands one evening and heading off to Hogwarts the next morning. Surely nothing in store for me could dull the beauty of my surroundings?
I walked into the reception and introduced myself feeling like an excited kid on Christmas Eve – only good things lay before me.
The reception I received made the reality sink in. The smile the receptionist gave me wasn't welcoming me to Farleigh House; she was giving me a double message: firstly, "this is going to hurt" and, secondly, "we are all going to enjoy your misery".
I suddenly felt tiny – a feeling that wasn't helped by Danny Grewcock's arrival, apparently overjoyed at the prospect of a journalist being put through some serious pain.
The only thing that softened this blow was the fact that I would have company in the shape of Bath favourite (and Chronicle columnist) David Flatman — and I knew Flats was not looking forward to our afternoon date with the gym either.
Matt set out a circuit for the pair of us involving pushing and pulling weights up and down the gym, plus a bench press and tackle bags.
The only good news was that we would go one after the other, so there would be a brief respite after the work (obviously more rest time for the one who played at the top level rather than the journalist). The downside was there would be six rounds.
The first wasn't too bad, almost enjoyable even. The second was tough. By the time the third came around I felt I was in trouble and was wondering when the last time someone working in that gym was so out of shape they vomited.
Clearly Matt wasn't as worried as me. At the start of the fourth round he announced he was so pleased with how it was going that from now on I would be lifting the same as Flats had been. Sadly this didn't mean he would be dropping his weights...
Rounds four and five were pain I hadn't felt for a long time, but I tried my best not to show it. Even at my age I still feel like I have something to prove, even if it is just getting through a workout without collapsing on the floor.
Round six was actually less painful. With each push of the sled or pull of the rope I knew I was almost there. And the joy at actually finishing the workout felt like scoring a try in the last minute to beat the fiercest of rivals.
Sad to say, the reality has hit home. Seeing as I haven't played for a few years this shouldn't be a shock, but lying on the floor with Matt telling me to carry on I knew it: Desire is one thing, but a lack of fitness, strength and ability, not to mention 35 years under the belt, confirmed the dream has died – I'll never make a professional.
Image may be NSFW.
Clik here to view.