I don't know how stunt people do it. I really don't. They must have some sort of death wish or something, because it's never a laughing matter 'falling on your arse' or as some prefer to call it 'crashing with style'. There certainly wasn't much style today when I body-slammed a little blue Scottish Gas van whose young overweight driver charged into a roundabout I was haring across. The result had me slamming into his flank whereupon I upended myself and landed on my arse. But I didn't 'land' did I? Chance would have been a fine thing. Instead, I hit the paved road and the tarmac which is not the land. This time I cycled away unbroken though somewhat bruised and accordioned. And I thought to myself: how on Earth do stunt people do it? And then I realised: lots of padding, and by falling on surfaces with give. And, accordingly, by never ever falling on an unforgiving surface like concrete.
Oh, and by the way, if you think I came worse off, you should've seen the van.
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