My co-worker L. is taking her boyfriend horseback riding for his birthday. She asked me if I’d ever gone and if an hour and a half sounded about right. I started laughing almost immediately as I remembered, for the first time in a long time, about my experience riding a horse.

My girl’s youth group at church when I was about 11 or 12 took a trip horseback riding. When we arrived we puddled up front to hear the instructions and safety guidelines for the horses and the trail. We were asked if we had experience riding horses and for some reason I raised my hand.

I don’t know why. I just used to lie all the time. Just make shit up. I did it to look cool, I’m sure, and besides, I likely thought, my stepmother owned a horse once. And I was around her some. I fed her apples on occasion and even saddled up and trotted around on her once. Then she was gone. For some reason I remember the explanation was that a gate was left open and when my parents were driving down the road their mare galloped up beside them and off, never to be seen again. But that can’t be true. Like I said, I just made stuff up. When you do that enough you eventually believe yourself and your memory in turn becomes a bit hazy.

Anyway, I lied and said I was experienced with horses so they gave me a spirited one who really liked to run. At first the horses were just slowly meandering down the trails face to ass, but toward the end of the trail there was an open field about 500 yards back to the stables. Now, I’m not sure if my hyped up horse was just thirsty or wound up or what but as soon as that trail ended that horse began to pick up speed until he was sprinting. And I didn’t know what to do. I had never ridden a horse for more than 45 minutes and now I was on one that was hauling SO MUCH ASS. I tried pulling the reins but I was more concerned about staying upright on that thing. So, I just lowered boney 11-year-old body into the saddle and held on and prayed.

Then I started crying. I was on a getaway horse with no idea how to stop it, bouncing and lurching with every gallop. I thought I was going to die beneath the thundering hooves of the murderhorse I’d lied my way into. I think I was hyperventilating by the time that horse slid into the water trough like he was stealing a base.

I haven’t been on a horse since, nor have I made any plans to do so. Also, I’ve tried to quit with the lying since it can obviously kill you.