Brian O'Driscoll's Diary: It's been a traumatic and frustrating injury spell, but it has made the prospect of Sunday's game all the more exciting.

It's strange. You don't dwell on injuries until you have one. You are aware that they are part of a sportsman's life. You know you'll get them. But only when you're sidelined for any length of time do you fully appreciate the value of being fit and healthy.

The last five weeks have been an unremitting grind, laced with frustration and boredom. Patience is definitely a virtue, especially when the rehabilitation process seems to crawl along. When I damaged the hamstring that night at Lansdowne Road playing for Leinster against Sale, I was hoping to be back in a couple of weeks - realistically I knew it wouldn't be the case - especially as the Six Nations Championship was just around the corner.

There were a few low points, notably when on the Thursday before the French game we were at a team meeting. There is a process whereby the team and replacements number off, to make sure everyone is present. The team had been announced but it was that moment that the disappointment swept over me. I was going off to train on my own, "Billy no-mates", while the lads were heading for the French capital.

The first time the injury had really got in on me was when Leinster were travelling to play Biarritz in the Heineken Cup, the final pool match. There was no way I was travelling: when you're injured at Leinster you don't attend away matches. The game wasn't on television and there was no way I was going to go through slow death by radio.

Instead I sat down to watch Toulouse play Edinburgh while Den (Denis Hickie) - having completed his usual tiring gym routine of a few lunges and arm curls - who was listening to the game on radio, kept me informed of how the Leinster match was going. A few expletives later and it was down to considering how we missed out on the play-offs. We dug our own grave by losing at home. I didn't even realise how close we'd come in the end, instead feeling numb with disappointment.

A FACE FOR RADIO

My inactivity did allow for some extra-curricular duties and one or two excruciating moments. The Late Late Show was cringingly embarrassing, particularly when Pat Kenny made this huge play of introducing me as "Ireland's sexiest man", an award bestowed by Social & Personal magazine.

Firstly, I have to come clean and point out that there may have been some bias from an element within the judging panel.

Secondly, apparently Colin Farrell finished second, which needs no further elaboration. My team-mates found it so risible they haven't bothered to rip into me, instead preferring complete indifference.

There have been one or two comments about my decision to change hair colour, to go for something a bit different. What started as a few streaks for a summer holiday has become the Full Monty courtesy of a guy called Shay Dempsey at Zoo in Exchequer Street. I'd like to point out that nobody complained when Padraig Harrington (done in the same place) opted for a change. My mother thinks it's hideous but that's probably a generation thing.

It's getting a bit long and therefore annoying when training so I have gone to the expert, Shane Byrne. He's prescribed some industrial-strength gels but his hair isn't exactly a ringing endorsement for the products. I did consider a scrumcap but then I truly would be left with a face for radio.

This vanity lark: hair, hair products, roots - where's it all going to end? Next I'll be wearing a shirt open to the waist.

GROUNDHOG DAY

On a less frivolous note, I had mixed feelings about linking up with the Irish squad on the week prior to the French game; I was glad to be back involved but aware that there was a strong chance I wouldn't play. Most of the past few weeks have been spent in the company of Mark McCabe, who has overseen my rehabilitation and to whom I'm grateful for the condition I'm now in.

It was a kind of Groundhog Day scenario as the lads would go off to train in Naas and I would go to Mark's to be put through my paces. There was no question of slacking as every session ended with my shirt translucent with perspiration. It's impossible to replicate immediate match fitness after a lay-off but Mark has guaranteed I'm in the best condition I could be in. He's also suggested that I could be stronger and I believe him, simply because I trust him and hope to work with him on a regular basis.

On the Tuesday of the French week I had to attend a Six Nations launch in London as Ireland captain, albeit at the time a non-playing one. I left the Citywest hotel at 6 p.m. and didn't get to London until 12.10 a.m. having experienced my version of Planes, Trains and Automobiles. I've felt less tired after travelling to Australia.

The flight was delayed but fortunately a friend in Dublin airport managed to get me out on another. Then it was a case of getting the Heathrow express and standing in the world's longest taxi queue outside Paddington Station.

Eddie (O'Sullivan) had gone over earlier for his interview about the Lions job and I didn't hook up with him until the following day, when we did interviews, photo-calls, etc. The talk among the players was mostly non-rugby. I know three of the boys from the Lions: Lawrence Dallaglio, Gordon Bulloch and Colin Charvis. Olivier Brouzet has good English while Andrea de Rossi may be less fluent but got his point across.

We were chatting about my injury. He asked who we had up first. I said, "France." He responded: "You have them over there. Oh, you probably need one more week for your injury so." I couldn't help smiling.

Despite not being selected I still had a role to play during that week. You have to speak up if you spot something that's going to be of benefit to the team. There are two very contrasting sentiments, one of not being involved physically but the other with the onus on having an input. Meetings can be hard work at the best of times.

WHERE'S MY SPEECH?

I spoke to Paul (O'Connell) briefly after his elevation to the captaincy.

Everyone has his own style (of captaincy). I just told him to be brief and to the point at his captain's meeting as no one wants to hear someone waffle on for the sake of it. He's a well-spoken guy who is respected by everyone and I thought he was an excellent choice as captain.

His maiden speech in Paris was not without a little drama though. His French counterpart, Fabien Pelous, stole Paul's speech at the dinner but when he saw the sheer look of panic decided to return it. Paul described it as like being 12 again, back at school and doing a reading from the Letter of St Paul to the Corinthians before the whole school at Mass. He just read the thing word for word, without glancing up once. I certainly had several faux pas in my early speeches and was mortified afterwards. He'll be pleased to hear it gets easier.

COUNTRY RETREAT

On the day of the French game I bolted for the countryside to break up the monotony that was my life. It was nice just chilling out and watching the games, not having to talk rugby: just myself, my girlfriend and a couple of bottles of vin rouge on St Valentine's Day.

We played well in the first 20 minutes but made a few mistakes. We got back into the game just after half-time but then they went bang-bang with those tries and it quite literally felt as if Ireland had been shot down. To come back and score another try showed character. There were good aspects to the performance.

On the Sunday I met up with friends for a bite to eat and then returned to the team hotel to prepare for the Welsh match. We trained well on Monday, people happy to be back on the pitch but Tuesday's session was really excellent. There was even a bit of niggle and handbags during the session - that competitive edge is what you want - and all four second rows were involved at one stage. It shows everyone cares. At lunch you could see that everyone was in better form after a good session.

The team announcement on Wednesday brought disappointment for Maggsie (Kevin Maggs) and Mal (Malcolm O'Kelly) but they responded superbly in terms of attitude. It was great to be back, although the news that I would partner Darce (Gordon D'Arcy) was the main topic of media conversation.

People might have doubted Darce could step up from provincial to international level in the centre but he gave them their answer in Paris, doing so with aplomb.

I can reveal that despite being selected at 12 I will continue to wear the number 13 jersey. I'll defend at inside centre but we'll mix and match in attack. It's going to be exciting playing with Darce because he's in great form. Inevitably he'll make half-breaks and it's a question of trying to get your angles right to get into those spaces. I'm going to put a homing device on him and let him off.

CABIN FEVER

Closeted in a hotel can induce boredom and after three years in the one place it's a case of trying to alleviate the frustration of being stuck in familiar surroundings. Some of the boys went out and played golf on Thursday. It's supposed to be a rest day and given the way some of the guys play golf it's hardly conducive to resting, even though you might be going round in buggies.

If you're playing with Fordie (Mike Ford, defensive coach) and Merv (Mervyn Murphy, video analyst) you'd get to see a lot of rough. They'd have made great farmers, the ideal men to leave in a field cutting hay. It's a down day so you're given 30 pocket money to get your dinner and have to report back to the hotel by 11 p.m.; no McDonald's or Burger King, mind you.

At this stage all you crave is match day. It's been a good week on the training paddock and the team is raring to go and none more so than me.