A moment of solitude at Amen Corner that was a year in the making
A year after a dreadful experience at Amen Corner, the author returned with a new perspective on life and the power of being present. Getty Images A sharp pain in my abdomen stopped me in my tracks on Amen Corner. A pain that I am all too familiar with.
With each step I tried to take, it jolted through the rest of my body to the point of immobilizing me. A volunteer at Augusta National spotted my struggle and asked if I was OK. I was not.
The kind man, with his warm, southern drawl — whose name I regret not getting — offered to seek assistance to get me off the course. This was Thursday of the 2025 Masters . Crohn’s Disease, which has been a part of my life for the past 20 years, showed its ugly head at golf’s most beautiful corner.
I’ve been poked, prodded and cut open enough times in my life to understand exactly what was happening last April. Tests in the following weeks confirmed what I already knew: I would have to go under the knife again — and the result of that procedure called for another several months later. Between surgeries, I was on a heavy drug regimen that required 10 to 12 hours of IV treatments daily.
One day, you’re freely roaming Amen Corner, and the next, you feel like you’re on house arrest with an IV pole playing the role of an ankle monitor. I was a prisoner in my own body for most of the last year. “Gut It Out” are words I’ve learned to live by.
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