What Will Your Verse Be?
When I first started running nearly 15 years ago, I found it satisfied a yearning I didn’t even know I had: a desire to find and push my limits, to challenge my body and my mind and even my ingrained sense of self.
In Dead Poets Society, John Keating tells his students, “We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion…that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse…What will your verse be?”
John Keating addresses his students in Dead Poets Society, challenging them to think bigger.
Finding Fulfillment in Running
For years, running ignited that passion. Chasing new times and new distances defined my verse. I threw myself into training because the journey fulfilled me. I found joy in getting up, getting dressed, and getting out there.
I embraced the struggles and the hardships—disappointing races, injuries, comparisons—alongside the successes and the happiness of PRs, perfect workouts, community. I even loved all the mundane miles in between, which is key as they are by far the most common.
Over the last 18 months or so, however, I started to notice that running no longer quite scratched that itch. I made one last gasp at a 5k PR. The fact that I failed rather spectacularly obscured the reality that I maybe didn’t care as much as I would have in the past.
The changes thyroid cancer and the consequent hormonal imbalances wrought on my body provided an opening, an opportunity to discover my new verse.
Growing up, it never occurred to me that I could be a runner.
And it really never occurred to me that I could be a fighter.
Taking Stock of My Passions
When I started training for the 2023 Peachtree Road Race, I had two goals:
1. Discover whether I could start developing endurance, something I’ve struggled with since thyroid surgery.
2. Discover whether I actually wanted to continue training as a runner, or if that was simply something I defaulted to because I had done it for so long.
Midway through the Peachtree, drenched in sweat, wondering what I’m doing here
By midway in the training cycle, I realized I had answered one question, which in turn mooted the other. A consuming new project at work left me with the mental energy for only one physically demanding activity per day.
As it turns out, boxing far outshines running at this season in my life. It never once occurred to me to skip a boxing session, but I ditched my running shoes without a second thought. I never progressed past four or five miles at a stretch and that bothered me not at all.
The Real Test
On the Fourth of July, I laced up my running shoes for the Peachtree, pinned on my bib, and took the train to the start line with my husband and two longtime BAMR friends. I have gone through those steps countless times, yet something felt different about this race.
This was Katy’s first Peachtree as an American citizen!
I lined up in the corral next to my friend Katy and tried to soak in the glory that is the Peachtree: thousands of runners from all walks of life, hundreds of volunteers, and spectators offering everything from power-ups to PBRs. I felt present but somehow disengaged, like this was something I was doing but no longer something I do.
My performance was average. I ran steady the first three (mostly downhill) miles and walked up a number of hills on the back half. I high-fived kids and hit every power-up sign I saw in an effort to engage. The only time I felt much of anything except heat and humidity was when I hit the six-mile mark: the killer rush of reeling in and picking off runners one by one kicked in.
My finishing time was average. When I looked down at my watch, I thought, “I know you. We’ve been here before.” It’s the pace that indicates I’m in pretty good fitness but not in good racing shape.
Putting the peach – if not the feels – in Peachtree.
Notably, I did not feel disappointed. Or elated. I didn’t feel much of anything. Just a recognition that running no longer ignites that flame inside my soul. It no longer reminds me that I’m alive. Today, boxing fulfills that role in my life.
Embracing the Past While Living for Today
I feel a deep gratitude to have written the verse that is running, and a deep gratitude to have the chance to write a new verse. I still carry the benefits of running. I know I am capable of accomplishing things I never dreamed of trying. I can adapt and overcome and find joy in the process. I recognize that consistency will take me immeasurably farther than motivation. I remain rooted in the community I built through running – both here in Decatur and with BAMRs across the globe.
Sorry, running. It’s not you; it’s me. Boxing has stolen my heart.
And I know that should I choose to return, running will be right there waiting for me.
To quote Henry Thoreau via Dead Poets Society, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately… I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life… to put rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
Currently I give myself credit for just showing up and getting in the workout and embracing the joy of it all. I am less than 5 months from having brain surgery ( 9 hours!) for an acoustic neuroma that has left me w/out hearing in my right ear, some slight facial palsy and lass of taste and a “dry eye” which is exacerbated by wind/sir when I get on my bike. What I am thankful for is being here- riding my bike again finally with my husband, swimming in the local lake down to the end and back, hitting the weight room to gain my muscle and weight back that I lost before and after surgery. Next up- hip replacement! But not until I swim that mile in Lake Tahoe next month. The biggest thrill was being able to ride all the roller coasters at a local park with my sisters, daughter, nieces and nephew, where I have been going since I was a small child. We had so much fun and my “brain” co-operated on all the 90 degree drops and multiple upside-downs! One day at a time and live every moment! Congrats on your Peachtree! I had always wanted to do this race after reading about it back in the 70s…but I lived too far away to attend.