Dead Daughter the Drive Behind Local Aspiring Boxer

Dead Daughter the Drive Behind Local Aspiring Boxer

At an hour when many drift off to dream, the man nicknamed “Sweet Hands” performs a reality check.

Six days a week when the sky is dark and the stars are bright, Caleb Plant starts to run. Sometimes he sets out around 9 p.m. Other days it is as late as 11 p.m. when he takes his first steps.

Every time he is accompanied by so many thoughts. The fear. The hunger. The uncertainty. The unspeakable sadness. Some have been with him longer than others, but he knows them all intimately, as if they don’t simply exist in his head but rather extend to every muscle, every nerve ending, every breath. No matter how far he goes — these days he covers as many as seven miles in an evening — he can’t run from them. Nor does he want to. Like fuel, they propel him forward.

“I feel like my whole life I’ve been consumed with thoughts,” he says. “Whether it be things I don’t want to go back to, times with my daughter or personal things about me that nobody knows about, I feel like my whole life I’ve been consumed with thoughts.

“Running at night is a time for me to be alone with my thoughts. By myself. I remember where I’m going. Where I’m from. And what I want, and what I don’t want to go back to.”

If it ever starts to feel like it’s all too much, clarity comes when he (continue reading at Nashville Scene)

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