Diabetes

type 1, insulin pump, blood glucose

Sloth in sneakers

Diabetes, Running

Okay, so maybe climbing the Grouse Grind, and drinking beer and eating decadent cheesecake the day before a long run wasn’t the smartest running decision made. The first 5 km felt like my body was twisted up into a million knots and it was not going to untwist kindly, oh no. I was struggling to maintain a constant pace, or even just a good pace, I was slow, oh man, was I ever slow. And my ankles and calves were so super tight, I was begging the running gods to take pity on me. And yet, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. That cheesecake, ohhhhh that decadent Princess-famed cheesecake, was worth every tight step endured. Loving the post-run stretch. After two and a quarter years of living in the loft, Mario and I finally had my brother, sister in law and three nephews over for dinner on Saturday. And because […]

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Getting a head start

Diabetes, Training

The things I learned yesterday: If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, stay home. If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, and you do go out, pack a change of socks, shoes, and maybe even a towel or two. If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, and you have a scheduled date, never ever leave the house without first double checking that you got the right date. When I woke up at 7 a.m. yesterday morning to get ready for the Grouse Grind, every bone in my body wanted to stay in bed, especially with the continuous rat-a-tat-tat of the rain I could hear outside. This was not optimum Grind-climbing weather. Sunny days, overcast days, a little sprinkle here and there, great. Monsoon, not so great. Had it been any other day, I would have bailed, said forget it, just wrapped my blanket around me and vegged on the couch

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Giggling off the poppycock

Diabetes, Training

You’ve got to be freaking kidding me! So, you know that dictionary of doctor talk I told you all about the other night, well turns out it was just a load of poppycock. Yes, poppycock! My soon-to-be super doctor extraordinaire diabetic chick translated the manual for me last night and I swear not even a minute in she was laughing, but it wasn’t a hearty laugh, it was more like a here we go again kind of laugh. She told me there was basically just one sentence in there I needed to know, which in human language said something to the effect of If you have type 1 diabetes and if you’re an endurance athlete, you’re pretty much hooped. Awesome. Translating the secret doctor code My soon-to-be doctor diabetic chick has seen these words before, many times. She tried doing a research paper on endurance sports for Type 1s, and

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‘Like a dog humping a football’

Diabetes, Training

Sometimes, I think I was meant to be of the male species. Shocking, you say. Yes, yes, I love my skirts and dresses, and the colour pink, and being a total girly girl. But I also love drinking beer with the boys. Maybe it has something to do with growing up with a big brother and a big, big brother and always wanting to do what the big boys were doing. Regardless, I’ve almost always felt more comfortable with the boys than I have with the girls (sorry girls) they’re just … easier. So last night when Mario asked if I wanted to join him and his best mans for a night at the UBC Grand Prix, which meant I’d essentially be crashing a boys night, I didn’t even think twice in my acceptance. I am practically one of the guys, just a lot more pretty is all 😀 Three

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Diabetes … and more

Diabetes, Running

When doctors go to school, do they learn another language, a language only they are privy too? Because seriously, after spending a weekend reading through a doc’s manual my head is spinning with incomprehensible doctor talk! On Friday I had an appointment with the dietitian and nurse at the VGH Diabetes Clinic. When I started making these appointments, I was hoping to get a fresh perspective on my disease and some insider knowledge on how to better manage it. But after that first visit in January, despite walking away happy with what I gleaned from the dietitian, I was so unimpressed with the pump nurse who basically told me she had no idea why I was there given how good a diabetic I am. Yes I’m a good diabetic, but I want to be a perfect diabetic. Is that really so much to ask for? Apparently it is. For this

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