Talk about going from one extreme to another. It's only been a week or so since I was basking in the Lanzarote sunshine, yet all of that was easily forgotten today.
I joined the lunchtime lads for the Tuesday favourite - a nine-mile run up to Boars Hill and back.
On a dry day it's a great course - plenty of hills to test the legs with a nice bit of Oxfordshire scenery thrown in for good measure.
But I guess you don't need Brains to tell you that bucket-loads of rain isn't going to keep the fields dry.
So if you were out braving the footpaths, trails and tracks between Botley and Boars Hill today and saw six bedraggled runners looking more like they should be in a Benny Hill sketch than running a cross country route, chances are you passed us.
By the four-mile stage our trainers were full of water, our toes were numb and we looked like Willy Wonka had waved a magic wand over our legs and covered them in chocolate (although strangely enough the layers of mud didn't smell so sweet).
On returning to the office, we were asked if we'd actually spent lunchtime wrestling in mud. I think that might be what you call it - because at times it certainly wasn't running - but hey, it'll make that next sunny spell all the more special...