Running

hills, speed, lsd

Goosebumps

Today, there were goosebumps – good and bad. On a day I found out three little boys lost their mama to cancer (a fellow runner and friend to so many I know), a day my heart was silently crying inside for a woman and a beautiful family I hardly knew, a day I hugged my family even tighter than I normally do – my heart also experienced a gush of happiness for a woman I 100 per cent did not know. This afternoon, under the crisp, cool sun, I went for a run. I’d been trying out different routes lately, almost all that have started off with a 7-minute up hill. A couple years ago this hill would have been no problem; I loved hills. But after two years of no hill training (last season was fairly flat, and the season before I was preggers) I’ve really kind of gotten […]

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White rabbits

I was promised sun. I was told if I ran UP, there would be sun. Warm sun. Bright sun. Glowing sun. Big Ring had spent all Sunday morning up at the road hockey courts, and he assured me the entire game was under the watchful eye of Mr. Sun. You don’t need your running fleece, he said. You don’t need your running gloves, he chortled. Your winter socks? Your ear warmers? Nah, you don’t need those. It’s going to be sunny! But when I looked out the window, all I could see was nothing. A cold, thick, creepy grey haze of nothing. The fog was so incredibly thick and unmoving, it was hard to believe any sun rays could break through that. But Big Ring assured me there was sun to be found. So, the running fleece, gloves and winter socks all stayed home. (I wasn’t yet ready to leave

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Mailbag: Singing hallelujah

Please excuse me a moment while I sing what’s been bursting to get out of me ever since a run two runs ago: HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLELUUUUUJAH! Not sure what was going on with the headband here! For more than four years I have been struggling to find a suitable place on my body to store my insulin pump while running. If I clip it onto my shorts, it feels as though it’s gonna tug them right off my butt, or chafes if any skin is exposed; if I clip it onto my winter tights, it slides annoyingly from side to side, and sometimes, without any warning at all, it unclips, yanking at the infusion in my skin; if I put it in my sports bra, I risk looking like I have a third square boob, or risk bruising my breastbone by forgetting to remove the clip (yep, that happened my

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Almost famous

I’m famous! I’m famous! I’m famous! OHMYGAWD!!! I’m famous! That’s ME!!! When I was contacted by Canadian Running Magazine a few months back asking if I’d be interested in participating in an article on running with diabetes, I was 100 per cent all over it. For 2 seconds. Long enough to breathe a second of excitement before realizing oh crud, the tables have turned. I live my life behind a pen and notepad. I live my life asking questions. I live my life nosying around other people’s lives. I’m the journalist. Not the subject. Oh crud. I swear to you, I spent a good half a day, prior to the evening interview, freaking out. Massively freaking out! What if I was a horrible interview. What if I rambled a mile a minute making absolutely no sense. What if the only words coming out of my mouth were uhm, uhm, uhm.

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2013: The year that was

When I woke up this morning, at 7 a.m. – on purpose! – I was reminded of the me 14 years ago. The first day of the new millennium had me an unhealthy, unhappy, hungover mess. I was overweight, I was miserable, Dear Diabetes and me were not frienemies, we were full on enemies, I had no motivation to run, let alone take on any kind of exercise, and the thought of a child undertow had me cowering under a blanket. Fast forward 14 years, and my goodness, how far I’ve come. I’m a wife. I’m a mom. I’m a runner. I’m a rockstar diabetic. I’m happy. So freaking happy. My life, I am proud to boast, just keeps getting better and better 😀 So, I figured I’d celebrate with a morning run and a year’s reflection. NEW YEAR’S DAY RUN: 10 a.m. BG before: 4.9 Carbs: granola bar (14g) no

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