Falling over will teach you hard truths about life – and teeth

Hitting the ground running has some very painful lessons

One second I was running, a proud and gentle kind of lope, the next I was staring up at sunlight shivering through the leaves, my mouth somehow full of blood, and then everything was black. It was a warm morning as I set off, that bank holiday at the beginning of half-term, which meant my children were off school two times over and chattering around the kitchen table when my boyfriend heard – his whole face squints now as he describes it – the terrible thud of a body on concrete.

It was comically small, the uneven paving stone that I tripped over, it was hilariously nothing – a centimetre or two maybe that the toe of my trainer must have caught on, but I flew somehow, quite high, and landed on my teeth and cheekbone. I passed out because of the shock, I think, rather than the impact, and spent some time there on the grass in a glorious faint. That was the best bit. I do recommend unconsciousness. I’m up for a light coma one day perhaps, but until then these rare moments of savage exit will have to do. The time asleep always feels longer than really it is – I was blissfully relaxed, in a theatre, in fact, watching hundreds of little children dance, until suddenly I was dragged back to life, and the path, and Mark was propping me up on his arm and saying my name too many times.

Continue reading…

Please follow and like us: