Author name: Katie

Retching and running

Diabetes, Running

Be prepared. That is one of the number one things on the ultimate running to-do list. Don’t forget this, don’t forget that, make sure to pack this, remember to wash that, oh and you better have a little extra of that too – running fuel, charged Garmin, clean sports bra, TP, don’t leave for a run without any of it. Preparation is key to a solid race, and a solid training run. So yesterday morning, when I was getting my gear in order for my regular long run Sunday, runners the world over will understand why I was kicking myself. This run was not a spur of the moment, out of the blue run; every Sunday is a planned run that has been a regular staple consistently for the last 6 months at least, and something that has been a part of my life for the last 9 or 10 years. […]

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A farm farewell

Uncategorized

I traveled the woods there. I got stuck in the towering trees there. I played make belief for hours on the arcs over stretching the ravines there. I feared the quicksand there. I found the best hiding places there. I got stung day after day by the stinging nettles there, but not by the hidden wasp’s nests there. My cousins weren’t quite so fortunate. I bottle fed my baby Big Mac there, and lied on the kitchen floor crying at the headless chickens there. I saw my first family of moles there, I caught a fish bowl’s worth of tadpoles there, I tried to nurse a broken winged baby bird there, and night after night I fell asleep to the songs of the croaking frogs there. I went from an openly sugar-loving child to a secretly sugar-hoarding child there. I said a final farewell to my beloved grandpa there; he

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Diabetes: The frienemy strikes again

Diabetes, Running

Oh Diabetes. Dear, Dear, DEAR Diabetes. This was to be your day. The day the spotlight was to shine all over your youness. The day when you would think you’d want to look your best, you know, have a fresh-faced glow about you, especially in the face of flashing lights and snapping cameras. You’d think you’d want to show the world what a lowly medium, such as myself, can do with your greatness jabbed into my side. But you’ve never really been an easy one have you, never really gone with the flow, why start now, why put on a phoney face for the reporters, hey. Nah, you wouldn’t do that. Sure you had me fooled, weeks of cooperation, nary a hiccup to be heard. But that was your plan all along wasn’t it? I had just sat down to my desk, had just lifted my steeping cup of matcha

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A new marathon of sorts

Diabetes, Schooling

Dear Princess, It’s time to face it, you are not normal, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but when it comes to life with Dear Diabetes, no matter how hard you try to deny it, you do have limitations. Yes, you can run way past the time the dogs come home; yes, you can climb the Grouse Grind and continuously improve your time; yes, you can give birth; yes, you can travel the world; and yes, you can say goodbye to one beloved career and go back to school in your mid-30s, full-time and pull off some pretty spectacular grades. Yet, still, all of that is limited by Dear Diabetes. Let’s talk school, shall we. I am nearing completion of my second semester, which has been an incredibly challenging semester compared to my straight A’s of the first semester. I have worked so hard, my brain is so fried,

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Speed: 1. Cold: 0.

Running

To blog or not to, that’s a question I have been struggling with a lot lately. I have plenty of things to share, but not time it seems to put thought to screen. (See: I blame chemistry.) But yesterday’s question was a different one, one that took priority over the latter: To run, or not to. I have had, well, actually I don’t really know what I have had. Shortly after finishing the First Half back in mid February I was struck by my first cold in probably a year, a full on head cold right in the thick of midterms. It lasted over a week, but thankfully did not invade my chest. Two weeks later, my throat was closing up on me and my voice began to sound like that of a wearied 30-year heavy, pub-patroning smoker. What the frick? I couldn’t possibly be getting another cold. No way.

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