Even though I’m not training for anything right now, and even though my mileage has SIGNIFICANTLY decreased in the last few months, my world is still not complete without being able to lace up my sneakers and hit the pavement on a regular basis. And for more than 2 weeks, my world has not been complete.

Sneakers with no feet are sad sneakers indeed

As many of you know, I was suffering a nasty cold that lasted forever! It started in my head and progressively got worse filling my chest up with congestion and other such grodies. Dear Diabetes also reared her ugly head as a result. During my training days, I probably would have fought through the head cold, but once it’s in your chest, there’s no way I was taking chances with pneumonia. And so, I spent the last 2 weeks saddled up on the couch, missing my sneakers, longing for that cool breeze to brush against my skin, and the happy endorphins to fill my veins.

That all changed tonight.

Mario and I made a deal the other night: Cough or not, we were going for a run. Just a short run. Just a slow run. Just a get-the-legs-moving run. And ohhh what a gloriously happy run it was … mind you, it’s amazing what sickness does to your endurance. I was going majorly slow (didn’t want to overdo it, you know) but was feeling the huff and the puff in my lungs. What the?

TONIGHT’S RUN:

• 6:15 p.m. BG before: 4.6 (3 crackers and peanut butter, no bolus)
• Temp. basal: -60 per cent (30 minutes)
• Distance: 3.5 km
• Time: 23 minutes
• 6:50 p.m. BG after: 4.2
• Temp. basal: +60 per cent (30 minutes)

Next run, I’ll be wa-ay faster… least I didn’t lose my competitive nature

Number 1: I’ve still got this bloody cold. My nose is still stuffed up, my voice is nasally, my ears feel like they’ve got cotton balls stuffed in them (I CAN’T HEAR!!!). I’m hacking up a lung (usually when trying to sleep or  trying to conduct an interview), I’ve got a chest full of congestion, and you wouldn’t believe the amounts of clear snot I’m blowing out of my nose. Where the hell is this stuff coming from? It’s freaking ridiculous!

Number 2: The insulin shooting through my blood stream seems to have gone on holidays the last two days. My blood sugars have been so disgustingly high. I thought at first it was because of the jam I had on my toast yesterday morning. Normally when I have toast, I opt for peanut butter, which doesn’t generally spike my blood sugars, but yesterday, I wanted strawberry jam. And it’s not like this jam was packed with sugar, it was half sugar with 5 carbs per tablespoon, meaning it had easy insulin manageability. Or so I thought.

Not two hours later, my BG had skyrocketed from 7.4 to 16.3. What the? I was freaking mad, like scrunching up my face, yelling in my head mad. But I wasn’t yelling at me, oh no, I was yelling at that damn jam.

Bad jam! Bad jam!

This morning, though, I had to apologize. I did not have jam this morning, I had sworn off the jam, promising never to allow its yumminess in my mouth again. And yet, it was like groundhog day for my BGs. Despite not having jam, despite eating something that never spikes my blood sugars, three hours post breakfast, I was fighting numbers in the 14s. Are you freaking kidding me? These are not numbers I like. These are not numbers I’m used to. These are not numbers that are in line with good diabetic numbers. What the frick is going on?

The peaks and valleys of my day

I changed my infusion when I got home from work, hoping that maybe that was the problem, but I didn’t see any unwanted air bubbles in the reservoir, and the canula was still perfectly straight, not bent, not hooked, not munched up. So no, don’t think that was the problem.

Seriously frustrated…

This is my best friend:

This is the man I love:

This is my husband:

And three years ago today, atop Grouse Mountain, the location of our first date/non-date this is what we were doing:

Which resulted in this (note the diamond):

Yep, I’m a believer.

Happy Valentine’s Day! Hope yours was filled with lots of Leonidas chocolates, Sweetarts, and heart-shaped, red icing cookies! What’s not to love about this day

On the upside though, despite my nose still being completely stuffed up and infected green grodies still curdling out of my throat, I think I’m on the mend. My head isn’t quite so foggy, my voice isn’t quite so smoky, and I’m not struggling to climb the stairs nearly as much as I have been… I just need my blood sugars to get back on an even keel and the wheezing hack to disappear and I’ll be happy snappy once again.

The only saving grace of being sick is the all-day viewing I get (between cat naps of course) of the Food Network and girly, girly movies.

My top 10 best sick day movies:

1. 13 Going on 30
2. Pretty Woman
3. Romeo and Juliette
4. When Harry Met Sally
5. Robin Hood (Cue Maid Marion’s: “Robinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!”)
6. Dirty Dancing
7. 10 Things I Hate About You
8. Princess Bride
9. Fast Times at Ridgemont High
10. And to honour a late sick-day great: The Bodyguard

That list was super hard to come up with, I mean, only 10? There are so many to choose from, whether it be nostalgic selections, or girly girly ones, or those that tickle and warm the heart, or those that make you laugh so hard it hurts. Brothers Bloom, 500 Days of Summer, Across the Universe, In The Loop could have all easily made that list, but alas, only 10 were allowed… maybe I should have given you a top-20

For today, I chose early years and teenage nostalgia with Gremlins and Edward Scissorhands.

What are your favourite sick day viewings?

I’m sick. I’m miserable. And yes, I’m whining a bit too. So please, allow me this:
Why the F is everything WITH diabetes so bloody complicated?

Last Monday, I was exhausted. After dinner I crashed on the couch not having any energy to pull myself up and get things done. By 9:30, I was out for the night. Tuesday, I hadn’t yet clued in, but my blood sugars had. They were having a hyperglycemia party in my veins. Wednesday, I had tired voice the entire day. Thursday, I was full-on sick: meek, crackling voice, throat felt like jagged knives were being shoved down every time I swallowed, stuffed up nose, head pounding so hard I can’t even turn the lights on, enough snot coming out of my nose to fill a pool, burning eyes, wheezing, hacking cough, and cravings for Lipton Chicken Noodle Soup (ever wonder why it’s called chicken when there’s no chicken in it?). Oh frick!

Two boxes and counting!

And when I get sick, I get emotional. People say it’s just a cold, princess up, stop being a wimp. But for me, it’s not just a cold – it’s a friggin’ nightmare on my diabetes. Ninety five per cent of the time, my diabetes is in tip-top shape. I’m averaging BG readings between 4.7 and 7.7 mmol on a consistent basis, which is awesome. But diabetes on colds, my readings skyrocket at all times of the day and night. It doesn’t matter how much I increase my basal rates, I’m getting readings of 11, 13, 15. I wake up in the middle of the night with a cotton mouth, a fuzzy head, sickness in the belly, splitting headache, and all over sweats – all because of high blood sugars. For those of you without diabetes, just imagine your early 20s, the morning after closing the bar. Worst hangover ever!

So no, it’s not just a cold. It’s hell. And to all those people who feel like heroes going into work when they’re sick, or who just need to get out into the outside world when they’re hacking up slimy green grodies, all the while infecting everyone around them – YOU SUCK!

What, you don’t think that’s scary? Turn out the lights and you might change your tune…

I was out on a run with my favourite running chick and speedy – a reunion run of sorts – we were running along a super dark corridor, so dark and scary our speeds on the Garmin almost always increase along that 2 km stretch. When out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple of dark figures coming at us, I swear I nearly jumped out of my shoes. My stomach dropped into my ankles, my throat clenched right up. And in the milliseconds that followed, my head was awash with frantic thoughts. We were on a dark stretch, there was only a thin pedestrian patch for us to navigate, On our right, a train of cars sped past, on our left a rocky barrier. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to get out of harm’s way. Oh freaking hell.

I was ready to let loose a scream, a shrill, don’t you dare mess with me you dirty sucker kind of scream, when it suddenly dawned on me that it wasn’t a couple of hooded n’erdowells coming at us, but rather the shadows of me and my favourites. So glad I didn’t start screaming. I tried to laugh it off, swore up and down I wouldn’t be fooled again. Oh how wrong I was. That same run, about 20-25 minutes later, the sight of my shadow in a cement barrier next to me had me speeding up with fear all over again. What the???

The dark skies were to blame. We started our run at 6:30, and while last year, I was all over that time for runs, it’s been several months since I ran that late. These days, I’m out at dusk or shortly after, and normally I’m trekking down a lighted boardwalk, not super dark city streets. And yet, stupid shadow or not, I wouldn’t have changed that run for the world.

I was with my favourites and that is always a good run

Trio of sneakers reunite

FAVOURITES RUN:

• 6:20 p.m. BG before: 11.1
• Temp. basal: -30 per cent (1 hour)
• Distance: 8.05 km
• Average pace: 6:40 min/km
• Time: 53:37 minutes
• 7:30 p.m. BG after: 8.1
• Temp. basal: +50 per cent (1 hour)

It wasn’t our speediest of runs, it wasn’t our longest of runs, but it was a most enjoyable run. Given that the girls had gone out on a hard 10k the night before, and given that I’ve totally been slacking off as of late, and that we haven’t seen each other in well over a month, an easy socializing pace took precedence for this run. And that’s okay!

Lunch bag letdown

Before I start, though, let me first preface this dislike by stating that my contact at Animas is so totally super awesome and pretty much bends over backwards for me when I have concerns about the product, which is how I ended up with the sleeves for my pump and metre in the first place. I emailed her last month to complain about the grubby state of my pump. It’s protective screen had started peeling up at the edges (likely from all the banging into walls I do) and had grime and crusty sweat and dirt and dust building up underneath, which was majorly grossing me out. However, when I got the replacement pump several months ago, there was a note attached stating under no circumstance was the protective screen to be removed, and if it was removed, I may not be covered if the pump were to break. Got to love that fear factor!

But my Animas chick said no problem. She’d send me a pack of new protective screens, and how about some protective sleeves as well. They had a range of colours to choose from, and given that I have a history of dropping my meter, it might be a good idea to get one, she suggested.

When I heard they had purple, I was in. I’ve always had a love affair with the colour purple. My bedroom in high school was a mix of purple and grey, two walls purple, two grey – colours that I recently resurrected with a mix of eggplant and slate grey coloured towels in my current bathroom. But when the sleeves came in the mail, to say I was disappointed is an understatement. The colour is more Barney than eggplant. Barney purple is so not my kind of purple!

The sleeves are also bulky, which sucks. And they’re made of rubber, which I’m sure has a great bounce factor if I were to drop my meter on the cement patio stones again, but the thing with rubber, it’s like a glue for dust, dirt, grime, grodies. And wasn’t my complaint in the first place the disgustingness that was building up on my pump?

Animas sleeves, major fail… sure glad I didn’t have to pay for them

I haven’t been officially diagnosed, but I’m pretty sure I suffer from seasonal affective disorder (SAD: how appropriately acronymed!). And after one week of massive snow, which kept me house bound, and which later turned into two weeks of non-stop rain, and ugly grey, it was bound to hit me hard. Today, it hit me hard. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and hide under the covers. But the thing is, Big Ring didn’t just have a smile on when I walked through the door. He had his running tights on as well.

I could have said no, I could have told him I just wasn’t feeling it, but given that he’s got the makings of an early onset cold in him right now, and could still muster up the energy in the face of sickness, I sure as hell couldn’t wimp out now could I? Nope, I trudged up the stairs and silently put on my winter tights, my sports bra, my undershirt, my over shirt, my fuzzy jacket, my gloves, my ear warmers, my sneakers, and was ready to go.

Guess what? I WAS OVERDRESSED! I was totally overheating on the run, had to take my gloves off, and unzip my jacket, at one point, I was even letting it hang off my shoulders. Normally this would have pissed me off; I don’t like things to be out of place and swinging all over when I’m running free, but today, I relished in it – the times, they are a changing my friends. The temperatures are getting warmer, which means the sun is not far behind. Oh happy day

• TONIGHT’S RUN:
• 5:45 p.m. BG before: 7.7 (granola bar, no bolus)
• Temp. basal: -50 per cent (45 minutes)
• Distance: approximately 4 km
• Time: approximately 26 minutes
• 6:30 p.m. BG after: 4.3
• Temp. basal +50 per cent (30 minutes)

Now, I know I promised you a tale of things I’m not liking right now, but I had to circumvent that post for this one, because when you experience a run that takes you out of a SAD funk, that’s a pretty darn good thing to experience, and a pretty darn good thing to write about. In fact, that power of running, those super charged endorphins, is one of the main reasons why I started running in the first place.

But I tell you, the new Tandem t:slim insulin pump, I will not be denied. While this pump is not yet approved in Canada, and has only just begun its unveiling in the United States, to be released there shortly, come hell or high water, that sucker will be clasped on my belt by the time my medical coverage allows me a new pump. I promise you that.

What makes this pump so special? Look at it. It is like no other pump I have seen. It looks like an iPhone, It’s stylish, it’s easy on the eyes, looks easy to use, and most importantly, IT’S THIN! Compare that to my current pump, which looks like an outdated 90s pager (not cool), that I can’t hide EVER (totally not cool).

For a more magnified view, click on the picture

This pump would mean no more bulkiness pulling my undershirts above my waist bands (so annoying). No more bulging under my dresses. No more beefy metal jabbing into my back in the middle of the night. No more weighty pump pulling down my running shorts while in action. No more boxy Animas banging into walls, car doors, people. Ohhh heaven!

My only concern is the touch screen. I have major issues with touch screens. I don’t like finger prints sullying the beauty of the screen; it annoys me to no end when I see fingerprints on my iPhone, and I’m sure it would annoy me with this as well. But for style, I am so willing to make that sacrifice.

Tell me one thing you’re loving right now and I’ll tell you something I’m not loving in my next post!

Can you feel the fear?

Last night was my first outdoor run since falling flat on my face and spraining my shoulder two weeks ago. Sure I’ve done a couple treadmill runs, but before yesterday, nothing outdoors. And it just so happened, last night’s route was part of the same route we ran that evening. Ohhh the fond memories.

We did NOT want a repeat of this!

Let’s just say, there was a lot of cautionary footing going on. I was not trying to be all Usain Bolt out there, oh no, I was more like Yertle the Turtle – fearing the cement devils jumping up and grabbing on to the toe of my shoe again, or worse, my ankles.

YESTERDAY’S RUN:

• 5:30 p.m. BG before: 4.9 (oj and crackers, no bolus)
• Temp. basal: -70 per cent (1 hour)
• Distance: 3.5 km
• Time: 22 minutes
• 6:30 p.m. BG after: 6.1
• Temp. basal: +50 per cent (1 hour)

The run was a success. I did not fall, did not trip, I didn’t even scuff my shoes. So maybe, the whole nervous poopy feeling won’t be there the next time I go out. I can only hope!