T1D, Sport, and the Oral Receptors
Did you know you don’t even have to swallow Swedish Berries (or whatever your carb of choice) to get a boost of energy? True story!
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running with diabetes
Run of the Raging Blood Sugars
When the recommendations for T1D in sport are largely based on a non-diabetes population, it’s high time we call them out and start telling them what we need.
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Flashback Post: The Flaming Pins
There was once a time, long before I was happily set up with my Freestyle Libre, when I wouldn’t leave the house without a glucometer, finger pricker, lancets and test strips. And there was once a time I locked all that in my car just as I was about to embark on a 32 km training run – and my keys were locked in a building of which I had no access to.
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Race recap: They say 10.4, I say 10.0
Wasn’t it just the other day I was shouting to the world PERSONAL BEST! PERSONAL BEST! PERSONAL BEST! Why yes it was, and last Saturday I was singing those glories again. Some may say this one has a stain of stipulation to it, and this is my response to them: You say 10.4, I say 10.0. PERSONAL BEST BABY!!! Last Saturday I ran the Vancouver Hot Chocolate 10.4 km run at Stanley Park, and wow, what a difference a year can make. When I ran the inaugural run last year it was a miserably cold day; I blew myself out in the beginning of the run; I expended far too much energy early on weaving around other runners; and at about 7 km in I was experiencing that ugly feeling of nausea and was listening to that nasty little chorus of “You might as well quit!” singing Van Halen style
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Diabetes and the racing equation
(It’s taken me longer than I intended to post this second part of my Vancouver First Half half marathon recap; again, I blame chemistry.) So where were we? Oh right, I had just kicked my last personal best out of the park, knocking off a solid four minutes. And oh how I wish I could have started this post with a conquering WAHOO all around, but sadly, frustratingly, Dear Diabetes was having none of that. Vancouver First Half: Racing strategy win. Diabetes strategy fail. Dear Diabetes drew me in early on, tantalizing me, teasing me with a good, solid streak of no lows while training. I didn’t dare gloat or boast about it for fear her ugly head would rear, I just kept happily running along, diabetes NOT at the front of my thoughts. But then, it all turned sour. About a month and a half ago, ohhh right about
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