By Pranav Soneji

Any chance of a rubber ducky?

It wasn't exactly how I envisaged my afternoon at the home of English rugby, waist-deep in sub-arctic cold water waiting for the slowest timer in the world to hit five minutes.

But then again, if you sign up for a day in the hands of England fitness coach Dave Reddin, hooker Steve Thompson and flanker Joe Worsley at Twickenham, an ice bath should be the least of your concerns.

The idea was to get a "feel" for the physical intensity of an average England training session, from gym and contact sessions right through to five minutes of torture-in-a-bathtub.

To say our hosts pushed the mob of journalists attending something called the O2 Bootcamp day to the depths of their physical limits would be a rather large understatement.

Walking through the Twickenham changing room doors, the first thing I saw was Sir Matthew Pinsent and his gigantic frame casually tightening his studs into his equally enormous boots.

This wasn't part of the deal, a four-time Olympic gold winner-turned journalist against a one-time bronze 25m swimming certificate winner. It's just plain unfair.

The only time these two names will ever be seen together

I then discover I've been given Danny Grewcock's changing area, courtesy of the shiny plaque above my head. The only thing I have in common with England's giant second row is an "e" and "o" in my surname.

After changing into our rather natty kit, Reddin explained the order of the day: Gym, video, recovery and contact sessions, followed by a five-minute ice bath.

And things didn't get any better when we walked into the weights room, where Reddin explained the various routines he puts the England players through to work on their explosive power for tackles and hand-offs.

It's fair to say Reddin loves pain, or gets his kicks watching other people suffer from it. And he has all the sympathy of an overworked traffic warden.

My efforts to explain my long-standing drinking elbow injury cut absolutely no ice whatsoever.

Our reward for our efforts in the gym was to down a recovery drink made of 60% carbohydrates and 30% protein, essential for replacing lost nutrients after an intense gym session.

Reddin's warm-up exercises had half the group reaching for the respirators

What the other 10% constituted I have no idea, but flavour obviously wasn't a priority. It had all the consistency of diluted wallpaper paste with a dirty sock left marinating overnight for a bit of zest.

Time for a bit of video, with Worsley going through the minutiae of defensive coach Phil Larder's analysis of England's Six Nations performance against Italy, while Thompson dissected England's attacking performance against Ireland.

All interesting stuff, especially considering there were more negatives than positives.

With all the tactics still fresh in the brain, it was time to hit the hallowed Twickenham turf for some "light" contact work.

Reddin's warm-up exercises had half the group reaching for the respirators - and that was before Thompson and Worsley made a dent in the ruck and tackle drills.

This was when the fun began. Out came the tackle bags and suits as well as the prospect of bringing down Sir Matt.

OK, so I haven't played rugby union since my days as Haydon School under-16 first XV's (we were lucky to get 15) premier prop 13 years previously.

Steve Thompson supervises a ruck drill

But I still remembered how to tackle - and the pleasure in bringing down a four-time Olympic champion was almost enough to do a lap of honour, arms triumphantly raised aloft.

However, he still had to bring me down. And it really hurt when he did.

Why I subjected myself to this still puzzles me, especially after jumping into the ice bath.

Trying to think of anything to take my mind off losing all function of my rapidly diminishing manhood, I somehow managed to string a sentence together asking Dave about the benefits of this madness.

"What benefits?" was his disturbing response, accompanied by the kind of face a vet would make to tell a six-year-old child his pet rabbit had just gone for a very long sleep.

Academy: Why rugby players love ice baths

It was funny for about two seconds, then it really started hurting. But I held out and stayed in for the full five minutes.

Rather proud of myself, I got out of the bathtub to discover my entire body was burning up. Surely this can't be good?

It wasn't, especially the next morning when my legs decided to take an impromptu holiday to the Bahamas without my prior consent.