In 4th grade I lied and said I was going to a track meet to impress some friends in class when the teacher asked if anyone was going. I went home and told my mom I needed to sign up for it. I was never good at athletics at this time in my life.
I ended up going to the track meet, it was a 400m race I was entered in, I remember the moment the gun went off I immediately went into a mode I had never remotely gone into before, I was actually ultra competitive for once in my life. I was neck and neck with another kid for the first place spot the entire race, and going into the final stretch I felt like puking and every fiber of my body was burning and he was pulling away. Something came over me and I kicked it into psycho mode and pushed past him for the win and my legs felt like noodles and I collapsed and couldn’t get back up.
That race qualified me for a regional meet, I did that one and won again in similar fashion, then went to the state meet and got my ass handed to me. That started me down a long line of running long distance which involved being one of the best in the nation in high school and getting a scholarship to run in college, and trust me the training at that level consumes your life (100 mile weeks), so it was definitely my life at that point.
This is pretty harmless but when I first met my boyfriend he was telling me about his Star Wars Lego collection and I, being polite, said something like “Oh Wow, I love Lego.” Because I did love Lego, when I was 10. This was about 5 years ago and I think adult Lego was just becoming a really big thing, with the Creator houses and modular sets. Anyway, he took this comment and ran with it, as all the little gifts he bought me for the first few years of our relationship were Lego based. A little cottage set, pretty cute. A rebuildable calendar, practical and cute. A house that’s a pen holder, I’m ok with that.
I would photograph the completed sets and put them on instagram and then other people started buying me Lego sets and minifigures. And before I knew it my entire living room was basically Lego. I did admit to my boyfriend last year that I wasn’t as into Lego as everyone assumed – people send me links to the newest products and anything even remotely Lego based on Facebook. He knew, but enjoyed building sets with me anyway and I seemed to have fun doing it. Which I did. But at some point I just sat on my couch and looked at all these plastic bricks that I was surrounded with and asked myself how this even happened.
Wasn’t a drinker in high school so to shut down peer pressure I told them I was born with half a liver and drinking anything could make me very sick or kill me.
The lie just became natural and followed me to college. Was out with some friends playing pool and decided to have a beer. When I came back, a buddy slapped it out of my hand thinking I was suicidal. Then the explanations began…