running

Halloween humbug

Diabetes, Running

Ahh, Halloween, the bane of my existence … or at least it used to be. It’s days like today that had me cursing my disease or just all out rebelling against it. I don’t know which gods were in charge of diagnosing me with T-1, and I don’t know how the hell I managed to piss them off so increduously, but I’m thinking it was pretty darn nasty of them to diagnose me at 9 years old – to give me 9 bloody years, 5 of which I could clearly remember eating sweets, before putting a lock with no key on my beloved candy store. Before diabetes, I loved sugar, oh man, did I ever. Hot lips, jujubes, pop rocks, tootsie rolls, strawberry bon bons, banana marshmallows, lifesavers, fizz, fun dip, pixie sticks, nibs, sweetarts, green apple lollipops, and don’t even get me started on chocolate bars. Oh Henry, oh yes […]

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Ch…ch…ch…changes

Running, Training

Change can’t all be bad, right? (says the girl who does NOT adapt well to change at all) I mean the changing of seasons, especially from summer to fall is gorgeous, and going from a single girl to a married girl, that was kind of fun, and after years of letting Type 1 control me, finally taking the bastard by the horns and kicking it in the ass over and over again, that’s kind of … exhilarating, really. Changing of the seasons in Berlin 2010 And yet, I am a girl who more times than not does not like change. I like things a certain way, I like routine, I like to know what’s coming at me at all times. (Just look at my lunch. Five days a week, I eat a ham and cheese sandwich, with an apple and yogurt. On the weekend, every weekend, without fail, I eat

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Running with the vultures

Running

I’m sorry people. I couldn’t do it. I tried. I even timidly walked back to the spot where they were, camera in hand, but as soon as they started flapping their wings, I was off running. I was NOT going to be vulture bait. I have run with dogs, and cows, and horses, and chickens, even some rabbits here and there. But not until I arrived in Sonoma County did I ever run with vultures. And let me just say, never again do I want to run with vultures, because as much as I kept telling myself we were just running together, that it was no big deal, I think it was more them chasing me as though I were a hunk of decaying flesh dangling before their eyes. Photo by Casey Allen on Unsplash I would have got my own picture, but, uhm, I was pretty close to peeing

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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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In desperate need of advice…

Running, Training

Ohhh there were so many signs telling me to stay home, to not go for a run, to just stay in my pajamas, I’d be safer in my pajamas. But did I listen? Noooo. And what happens, just minutes after leaving the condo? I get dive-bombed by a bloody squawking crow – THREE TIMES!!! Here I was, minding my business, waiting for my Garmin to kick in while burping up garlic toast and potato salad and barbecued mushrooms, and lime tart from last night’s barbecue (Note to self, stuffing yourself to near puking the night before a run isn’t the wisest thing no matter how good the food is) when this bloody black thing swoops right next to my ear, like not even a pinky nail distance away, I could feel the brush of its feathers, that’s how close it was. I nearly jumped right out of my toes! But I

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