11/06/2026
This face tells you all you need to know.
3 and a half months ago, on 28th February, I was stomping home in a temper having abandoned my car in gridlocked traffic and slid on a manhole cover. On my arse on the pavement. Call it the revenge of the patriarchy (*man* hole, see) if you like, just don’t say I ‘had a fall’. Initially I was just happy my coccyx weren’t injured but when I tried to get up, I found I couldn’t weight bare. At all.
3% on my phone, partner resting after a minor op, traffic hell, I managed to call my brilliant man-child who came and rescued his old mum. Having previously suffered 6 years non-diagnosed foot pain, I was determined that this was not serious. Not this time. It has only been a few months that I had finally been ‘running’ or rather, ‘swiftly ambling’ as I called it. Even Couch to 5 K was too much and instead I had found a gentler, more joyous, ambley run-ishness that suited my body. At 60 I had found myself joyously stronger and more alive than ever before. Now that had gone.
I iced and rested and rotated and arnica’d and stretched and all the things…. Over a month there were only teeny-tiny improvements, but I had asked for more time to write. And I only bloody got it.
My people were lovely. Driving me around, looking after me. Being kind. Being cross too when I did too much.
After four weeks the physio gently suggested I got an x-ray, and it showed I had been walking on a broken fibia. Sometimes positivity can sometimes be a little destructive; you just have to go to the damn hospital. There was a boot and improvements followed along with a ton of rehab.
Writing about people who stop moving when injured, I was determined to keep moving. Luckily I am gifted by extraordinarily skilled and experienced practitioners who could adapt to my non-weight baring antics. I did my Iyengar with @ lying down and found it just as bloody hard. I went to @ strength classes and lifted ginormous weights sitting on a chair. I am a little bit stubborn. But this movement and normality kept the glums at bay, just about.
I have found the Collective and am following their excellent program, which is bringing the zing back to my toes, bunion and arches. I am so grateful for that. Hoping that this will prevent or minimise future injuries.
But today my loves, I finally went swiftly ambling again: 6.45am in the gorgeous milky midsummer light on the allotments, barely seeing through my happy tears. No timer. No Couch to 5K, just moving in ways that felt good and I can’t describe how happy I am. My soundtrack restored: Lambrini Girls, Talking Heads, The Clash… heaven
I am so grateful for all the amazing support I have. I am so grateful for my body healing. I am so grateful to be alive this morning.
P.S. Don’t be like me, just go get s**t checked out. X