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Natalie Briscoe

Pacemaker, Peacemaker

By Nate Fisher

“You just feel better. You accomplished something. You put some energy out, and you feel like you haven’t just sat around all day.”

Natalie keeps pace. Her heart rate rises, and with it, more oxygen to the heart. The rural wilds on the outskirts of Newton flit by, the kick drum in her chest keeping in time with the leftright, left-right, hushed sound of her cross-country sneakers. It’s summertime, and the cicadas sing of a stifling heat. Sweat spreads on her brow, but still, she keeps pace. Between the deep, quickening breath and a glorious flood of endorphins, Natalie Briscoe has discovered a sense of achievement, the proverbial answer to the question, “Why run?” It’s not due to escape; she’s in hot pursuit.

The daylight of the warmer months has turned over into a glacial gray, which means downtime for a cross-country devotee. Natalie is anxious to pick back up on burning a hole in her rubber soles as the weather improves. There’s a profound focus in the act. “You just feel better,” she explains and describes how long-distance running purges bodily toxins and mental ones. “You accomplished something. You put some energy out, and you feel like you haven’t just sat around all day. You got up and exercised.” Her sport is far more than simple exercise; it’s a palate cleanser. Natalie says when she feels boxed in by the same indoor walls and décor, the outside sights and the rate at which you can pass them at high speeds greatly relieve both mind and body.

The conditioning she receives from competitive running’s multi-use discipline has factored into other areas of her life. The structure is crucial to Natalie, and she’d love to provide a semblance of structure to those who need it, no matter if they require a daily “pick-me-up” or a complete overhaul. As a member of the Leadership Team, Natalie and her classmates assisted the Jasper County Ministerial Association in their holiday food drive. Since she’s used to the intense stressors of heavy cardio, packing canned goods into boxes for distribution contained the same sense of accomplishment with far less strain on the lungs. Natalie confides that helping others is “fun.” The lights the Leadership Team installed at the city park are another contribution she’s extremely proud of. The future leaders’ group is most important to Natalie because the team’s faculty advisors listen, consider, and act on student ideas. One of these studentled initiatives was the gift of an engraved decorative sign for departing administrative assistant Roxanne Pitcher.

Faith helps Natalie keep pace. “It’s my life,” she says. In her mind, the leadership skills she’s gained through her group’s charitable maneuvers have a natural conclusion: she wants to own and operate both a veterinarian’s office and a church. The schedule is already clear to her, and she sees herself working weekdays to heal our pets and spending Sundays in a pew, mending her relationship with the Almighty. Natalie informs us her dad has experience as a guest minister, so the church would no doubt be a family affair. As for the veterinarian’s office? She plans to hire out help for reptile and barn animal clientele. Domestic pets are more her speed.

Natalie stops to catch her breath, the momentum from the gravel underfoot slides her to a complete stop. The erratic sketching of air-hungry lungs soon leads to a steady, slow, concentrated inhale and back around again. She feels it again, as she always does, the accomplishment. Her attention stays on the musicality of her breath, how she can bend it to manipulate the delicate mechanism of the flute, and the ways she uses this energy and capability provided by regular exercise to help others. Up the road, just beyond the hazy humidity of July, is a sign that reads, “Briscoe Veterinary Services & Faith Center.” Natalie keeps pace with her dream and picks up her feet again.

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