I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where it all started. You see; I’ve been a liar. I’ve lied about various things in my adult years. From small white ones to fairly large life changers. The good thing is that all of them have been dissolved and lessons have been sunk in. There are not lies still hanging in the air like a bad fart. I’ve learned a lot about lying in college; early education classes are so full of childhood facts. Normally, we learn to lie at a very young age and it’s a defense mechanism to basically not get in trouble. It makes sense. I didn’t do that. I’m the Benjamen Buttons of liars.

I was a good kid. I followed all the rules. I didn’t get in trouble. I didn’t even curse until much later. I was proud of who I was, on this front anyway. So, where did it start and why? When did I start becoming such a shit?

I could only think of a couple examples but there is one that comes to mind more often than others. Yesterday I was reminded of the pain. It was my senior year in high school, supposed to be the best right? I fucking hated that year. We were in the middle of basketball season, one of my favorite sports. I wasn’t very good, a starter but a role player at best. One night before practice my coaches pulled me into their office and told me I was going to be academically ineligible that week. Fucking math again. I was angry, embarrassed and didn’t think anyone cared. The chip on my shoulder grew two sizes that day. I went hard that night, trying to bury my pain in sweat, blood if need be. I turned directions while back peddling and felt a pop in the back of my leg. Fuck. I cried on the floor, feeling pretty alone in that moment. The next day I went and got an MRI. I had a partial tear in my Achilles tendon. The doctor recommended surgery. I refused. They agreed to give me 6-10 weeks in a boot and crutches and then reevaluate. I would miss the rest of the season and tournament seasons. I sat for 3 weeks, doing mindless and painful rehab; oh and homework. I went in for a check up on Monday of week 4. I drove quickly from the doctor’s office to practice. “I’ve been cleared to play.” Lie. The doctor told me that if I played and tore the rest of the tendon, it would be surgery and a painful 6 month rehab. I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was play. I lied that night.  The rest of the season didn’t go very well for me. I was half as strong and fast as when I started the season and that’s not good when you don’t start very fast. I had an attitude and I created distance between my teammates, coaches and myself. I always think that team would have been so much better without me. Lie Karma?

So, why write this now? We were talking about lying in class and it’s been a topic in my life. I know that I didn’t do it as a kid and was just trying to figure this one out. I was going to just write this story but I procrastinated it and thought it wasn’t that important. I was in the gym, warming up with a jump rope yesterday and felt a pull in the bottom of my calf. Not a tear but a reminder. It feels a lot better today, I promise. Not a lie.

I truly am sorry to anyone that has been affected by a lie. It’s an unfortunate part of human nature but always remember that there are two sides to a tale. I sat in class the other night and listened to a guy talk about how he was a high school bully, like a really bad bully. He realizes in his young adult life that he may have altered peoples lives and it has changed him. It has changed me.