running with diabetes

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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Race Day: Bellingham Bay half II

So. Where were we? Right, the race itself… When I signed up for this race, I essentially considered it an at-home race. Bellingham is about an hour away, without the border lineup, and over the years I’ve been there countless times. But mostly only for Costco runs or other such cross-border shopping. No exploring. And so, when we arrived at the start in downtown Bellingham, I was immediately taken in by the cuteness of this town; its history, unique eateries, gathering spaces, beauty. And the course itself, while it had all the beauties of B.C., there was still an element of mystery for me to feel like I was exploring new territory. We ran past Little House on the Prairie style houses, along romantic, tree-canopied trails, around the bay jostling for position against the forceful breeze coming up off the water,  past clusters of enthusiastic cheerleaders; one a girl about

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Wardrobe malfunction

There are some runs that are just so incredibly perfect, you know the ones, the ones that feel like you’ve been running around the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow the entire time. Ahh, bliss is what those are… And then, there are those other runs, the ones that, well, the ones you want to forget about, but never do in hopes of never EVER repeating again. Today’s run was that kind of a run. My feet, legs, lungs and belly were all working pretty good. I wasn’t sucking air, I wasn’t feeling like I’d eaten 10 buckets of ice cream, I wasn’t wishing to be anywhere but there. Nope, today was all about my wardrobe – malfunctioning!!! The shoes were just a small fraction of today’s issues! WARDROBE MALFUNCTION RUN: 12:15 p.m. BG before: 7.6 Carbs: Sezme Snack (12g) no bolus Temp. basal: none Time: 29:42

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Freedom Friday

Phew! My family and I survived our first week of me being a working mom. The first day was tough as nails, my jaw hurting so bad fighting back those tears as I left my boy for the day, the second day was easier but I still felt the welling of tears in my eyes, but by the third day, I left with no feeling of tears, Big Ring felt more confident with daycare duties, and Little Ring made a buddy and slept for 2 hours at nap time. Success. And the fourth day… oh wait, there wasn’t a fourth day!!! First day of daycare. Instead of going back to work full-time, we decided I’d go back 4 days to save on daycare, gas, tolls, and wear and tear on the car, and also to grant us more quality time as a family. (Big Ring has Fridays off as well)

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Freaky Friday… no thanks

Today’s topic for Diabetes Blog Week really kind of bugged me. I thought about ignoring it, thought about not writing today, or opting for one of the wildcard topics, but that’s not being true to who I am, or what this blog is. So, I’m going to share with you why a topic like Freaky Friday would irritate me so. The topic wants us to pretend we could swap out our disease for another. You know, trade in diabetes for say Crohn’s disease, or arthritis, or epilepsy, or asthma, or MS, or some other chronic ailment. And I ask you, why the heck would I want to do that? Yes, diabetes has its suck-jerk moments, a lot of them, but so do all those other diseases. I wouldn’t want to suffer pain all day, or fear seizures, or feel as though life were being choked out of my lungs with

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