The Lies We Tell Ourselves

What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told? Why? Would you tell the truth now, if you could?

I think we tell ourselves lies in order to live:  Little lies; big lies.

Untruths; half-truths.  Omissions.

I would be lying if I told you that I thought it would be a good idea to leave New York, having just fought through three of the most challenging, exhausting weeks of my career, and to get on a plane and fly to California, on the late flight — the one that gets in at almost 1:00am.

I would be lying if I told you that I was prepared — in any way, shape, or form — to drive the two and a half hours or so between Los Angeles and Paso Robles on Saturday morning to get to a race expo.

I would be lying if I said that I felt I’d trained at all to run a half-marathon this weekend in 80-85F heat, when the only running I’ve done outside this winter has been in freezing-to-subfreezing temperatures.  So a +/- 50F temperature differential between here and there.

If I told you any of these things — and I have said some of these things — I would be lying.

These are not small untruths, or half-truths, or lies of omission.

But the real truth is:

Tomorrow night, I will get on a flight to Los Angeles, and someone will meet me curbside when I land.  And I will swear as I trudge through the rainbow tunnel between the terminal and baggage claim, because That’s not fcking O’Hare Airport! like they’d have you believe in When Harry Met Sally.

(More insultingly, in that film, I think they fly United, and the terminal is the American Airlines terminal at LAX.)

(I digress.)

Once I land, I will exit the airport and I will sleepily tumble into a car with California plates, and hug and kiss the beloved who comes to greet me.

On Saturday, we will drive the two hours in the sunshine and heat — the dry heat so different from the radiator-forced, indoor-brightness of Here.  And we’ll pick up race packets, and we’ll see family friends, and I won’t be lying when I say I am glad for it.

On Sunday we will run.

And I would be lying if I said I haven’t waited a whole lifetime for this weekend.

I would be lying if I said I thought any of this was a good idea.  But the truth — my truth, our truth — is that it is the best idea we have ever had.


Leave a Comment

  1. This is the best kind of lie to tell! The one that pushes you to have an extraordinary adventure. Welcome to the Scintilla Project!

  2. I suspect that you will love this race more than any of your marathons or half-marathons. Run joyfully with your brother. Bask in the sunlight. I will be thinking of you both on Sunday morning.

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