Jul 17, 2010

Coming back down to earth

Let me paint a picture for you.

Res, in her new yellow adidas sports top and black mini shorts (bought in the sales), stands contemplating the ocean.  She is about to go on a 7km run along the coast, and she feels pretty good about herself.  Sure, it isn't a half marathon, but given that she's been nursing her knee for three months, 7km in hot weather is entirely respectable.  Besides, the yellow of her top is showing off her golden tan superbly, and her legs look remarkably long in these shorts.  Long for a midget, anyway.

So off she goes, iPod blaring.  All the way around the harbour.  Down the promenade.  Along the beach.  She's at 2.5km now and hitting her stride.  On the sand, fat people are eating donuts and making her feel incredibly healthy and sporty, kind of like Madonna.  But younger.  And less scary.

Then up ahead she spies a low, chain-link fence separating the path from the road, where she is heading.  She has seen this fence before.  She has even gone over the fence before.  It is at mid-calf height - not overtly threatening.  So, without another thought (except maybe at how good her legs look doing this), she does a graceful little jump over the top of the chain.

And splatters on the ground.


What the f***???? is her first thought.  Her second thought is: ouch.  But in capitals.  Like this: OUCH.  And with more expletives.

After what feels like an hour of lying face-down on the pavement, a bemused group a strangers come to examine the damage.

"Didn't you see the fence?" is their helpful commentary.

Eventually, they get her to an upright position, dragging her up by her armpits.  She doesn't feel so much like Madonna anymore.  Naturally, she isn't organized enough to have a phone with her, so she walks the 2.5km back, willing herself not to look down at her legs.

The bottom line:
- one recently restored left knee now scraped, bloody, swollen and blue;
- one right shin double its original size, and likely to turn a variety of nasty shades over the next month or more;
- one large, oozing, puffy, swollen welt on her left hand, making all activities requiring the use of two hands (like eating with proper table manners) rather entertaining.

Not to mention a shattered ego.


Karin (an alien parisienne) said...


Oh wow, Res, I am so sorry that you took that spill. I'm sorry about the bruised ego, too. :(

Here's to speedy healing, chica.

Anonymous said...

it happened to me all the time when I was a kid.
It just proves that you are young and fearless.