That was the number I saw on the screen of my Libre minutes before starting my race.
Well frick, that kind of sucks.
I knew the reason why.
It wasn’t illness.
There weren’t ketones.
It was an error in my preparation.
I didn’t have time for regrets, though.
The race was about to begin.
Last Saturday was my first proper race in a long time and I was not letting Dear Diabetes rear his ugly face no matter how hard he tried.
I didn’t do much training for this race; in fact, I didn’t train at all.
Previous races I would spend months working my way through speed intervals and hill repeats, but this one was purely for fun. My Saturday runs and midweek Peloton cycling session was all the training I had.
I kept my race-day strategy the same as my usual Saturday strategy: eating 3 hours before the run, and reducing my breakfast bolus by 14%.
But when I noticed my BG wasn’t rising post breakfast, I got panicked. I reduced my basal by 75% two hours prior to the start (normally I do a reduction 30-60 minutes before). With my BG still dropping at 1.5 hours before, I ate a piece of white bread with honey smeared on top.
That honey bread was my downfall.
Forty minutes before starting, my BG was 8.4 with a straight up arrow. Fifteen minutes before, it was 11.8. And then, minutes before, 15.7.
Are you freaking kidding me?
I had removed the temp basal 45 minutes earlier and did not put a new one in. I gave myself a small correction bolus just before starting. I was running old school with the insulin flowing.
But you know, once I started running I knew my blood sugars would come down. As long as the highs didn’t cause my stomach to flip; as long as they didn’t cause any kind of cramping; and as long as I kept my brain calm, I’d be fine.
And because the run was short enough, just 10 km, and because I knew I’d be done in less than an hour, there was no need to fear episodes of low blood sugars during the run. I knew I could just run – without the weight of Dear Diabetes fighting me every step of the way.
It was a fantastic race!
My legs felt great. My stomach felt great. My mind felt great.
I wasn’t worrying about a specific time.
I was running to the pace of my music, kicking it up a gear every time the beat got faster.
I wasn’t worrying about other runners passing me; I kept the focus on me, and soon I was passing some of those earlier sprinters.
I wasn’t pained with heavy breathing; I was too focused on the beauty of the ocean and trees around me.
And then, when I spotted that one runner ahead of me, the one with the blonde ponytail flapping in the wind, my eyes zeroed in on the right of her arm.
Could it be?
A pod and a Libre right there for all to see.
A huge smile filled my face and energy filled my legs.
As I ran past, I shouted back with my hand clasping my own arm: I’ve got a pod too!
A huge smile filled her face.
We cheered each other on.
And off we went.
Two runners with type-1 diabetes representing the awesomeness of their lives – even with this disease.
As I rounded the corner, with less than 1 km to go, I saw my boy up ahead.
The moment he spotted me, his little 7-year-old legs came shooting out on to the course.
We would finish this race together.
BG before: 15.7 mmol/L
Correction bolus: 0.55 units
Temp basal: 0%
Distance: 10 km
Pace: 5:33 min/km
Finishing time: 54:04.3 (81st overall; 7th for my age group; 2 minutes slower than my fastest for this race)
BG after: 11.1 mmol/L
Temp. basal: 0%
Post-race fuel: Belgian waffles!!!
Also, I totally went up to my fellow T1D runner and introduced myself after the race. We’re meeting for tea/coffee in a couple of weeks – because T1D community!!! 😀