The Colour Purple

When I was cute little freckle-faced kid dreaming about becoming a marine biologist, my favourite colour was blue.  Not the sissy pale pastel blues but the deep dark royal and bright vibrant rich blues of the world.  Anything blue attracted me and I always picked blue when given a colour choice.  I ate my blue smarties last, bought blue yoga mats and got excited when the running shoes that were best suited to my feet were blue.

When it came time to order my first insulin pump, my colour choices were: clear, sensible grey, purple or bright blue.  I chose bright blue.  I never hide my diabetes so there was no point in buying a neutral coloured pump.  So my pump is bright BLUE!  How very cool is that?

As I've grown up, I slowly gained an appreciation for any kind of bright colour.  Tomato red, bright yellow, hot pink, green, orange.  I like all colours as long as they're bright.  The richer and brighter the better.  But blue always had a special place in my heart.

In the last year or so, my colour preferences haven't so much changed as expanded and I have discovered purple.  I'm not sure what brought on this expansion to my colour palette but now I covet deep rich purple things the way I do the blue ones.  Hell, the front and back doors of our house are painted purple and it's wicked.

Today, I had my quarterly endo appointment.  It went well.  We tweaked my basal rates a bit, troubleshooted (troubleshot?) a few things, talked about Yann Martel and reviewed my latest A1C.  Which, by the way, is a fabulous 6.9.  Yay me.

The best part of the appointment occurred when I asked if I could have a new glucometer.  Mine is old and is starting to feel rather bulky.  I thought I'd check out the newer models to see if anything caught my eye.  

My Endo left and came back with a new, compact, super sleek glucometer for me.  Much smaller than my current one and easier to slip into a pocket or a running belt.

The best part though isn't its functionality, the fact that it double checks my blood sugar results or the fact that it doesn't beep at me all the time. The best part of all is that it's purple!

I'm talking bright, shiny, make me happy every time I check my sugar purple. 

Sweet!

Fourteen Times Three Makes One Marathon

I have a thing for numbers.  And patterns.  And patterns of numbers.  Which is very handy considering the diabetes diagnosis I was handed 8 1/2 years ago. If there was ever someone who was well suited to their diagnosis - it's me.  My mother and I actually laughed about that as I sat in Intensive Care that first day.  I count everything, see patterns everywhere and like structure.  Hello diabetes management!

Anyway, today's musings aren't about diabetes, they're about numbers.

I'm fond of even numbers and have a particular fondness for the number 4.  Eight and two are pretty good too. Six is fine but it's not very pretty and just doesn't do much for me.

Odd numbers are appealing in a completely different way - I like to manipulate them (add, subtract etc) to turn them into even numbers. 

When I run, it's all about the numbers.

More importantly, it's about finding the right way to look at the numbers in order to reach a balance that is neither too easy nor too overwhelming.  For some people, running is 90% mental.  For me, it's 90% numbers.

For example, when I run a half marathon, I never run 21 kilometres.  I run 3 kilometres seven times. 

Around the Bay was 3 kilometres ten times. 

Sixteen kilometres is a favourite distance of mine because it's 4x4 (wicked!).

The other important thing I do when I'm running is I count up and then down.  In other words, for a half marathon, I have seven sets of 3K to do.  I count up (1 set, 2 sets, 3 sets, 4 sets) and then, once over the half way hump, I change it to 3 sets to go, two sets, one set, done!

It's mind over matter folks and, for long runs, I'll use any trick I can to keep myself in the right frame of mind.

This summer, the new magic number I have to work with is 42.2 kilometres.  I am trying to figure out how to break it down into manageable chunks.   

Right now, I'm leaning towards the idea that, on October 23rd, I'll be running two half marathons.  That's 7 sets of 3K - twice.  Count up for the first seven and then down for the last seven. 

I've run 3K. I've run half marathons. Nothing new there.  This time, once I get to the half marathon finish line, I have to turn around and do it all over again.

What's the big deal?

My Hero. Our Hero.

It’s official.

Every time I think about it, my eyes well up with tears of sheer joy.

I’ve known he was a hero since that evening run back in 2008. When I was in my first running clinic huffing and puffing my way through a 20-minute run, thinking that there was no way I was going to make it. That I just wasn’t strong enough to be a runner.

Out of the blue a quiet, unassuming man ran up beside me and kept me company. He chatted with me. I listened because I did not have the strength to talk. He gently motivated me to just keep moving and, somehow, I did. I made it through the run and made a new friend. His name was John.

He quickly became my hero.

Yesterday, John received an email that confirmed what many of us have known to be true for years. John was officially chosen as one of this year’s Global Heroes.

I can say, without a doubt, that there is no better person upon which to bestow the title of Hero.

The most shocking part of John’s story is the part that actually allowed him to submit an application to Medtronic’s Global Heroes. You see, in order to apply, one has to be a runner who is able to run thanks to some sort of medical device.  In John's case, it's an ICD.

November 2008 - John died from cardiac arrest. His heart stopped. His partner (now wife) Michelle became his lifeline by doing CPR until the ambulance arrived. The paramedics shocked his heart and brought him back to life. John now has an ICD. Pretty amazing stuff to be sure.

But that’s not what makes him a hero. To be brave, to be a hero, one must have a choice. John did not choose to go into cardiac arrest and he did not choose to be saved. His cardiac arrest was a random event and his life was saved thanks to other heroes like Michelle and the paramedics.

John is a hero because of what happened after that fateful night.

Many people would have chosen to live in fear after such a harrowing experience.

John didn’t.

John faced his fears head on. He plowed through them and he kicked their asses. Less than two months after his cardiac arrest, John showed up at Runners’ Edge ready to run. Less than seven months after his cardiac arrest, he ran his first half marathon. He and Michelle got married soon afterwards and they created the most amazing blended family I have ever had the pleasure to meet. 

John has chosen to live his life to the fullest. He faces his fears every day and refuses to let them win.

John challenges himself.

To stay fit and healthy. 

To love unconditionally.

To make himself vulnerable.

To be a true friend. 

In doing so, he inspires others. 

To run just a little further.   To be honest with themselves.   To be brave.

John’s life was saved and handed back to him. What he has chosen to do with it is what makes him a hero.

Up Down Up Down

There aren't too many friendships where, on the first date you go for tea, the second you go for a nice 5k run by the canal and, by the third, you're doing hill training in the pouring rain. The fourth has already been booked and will involve running 800m intervals until we drop.  Fun!

As promised, Scully and I met up after work yesterday to run hills.  She showed up at my place and, within minutes, we were comparing glucometers, insulin pump insertion sites, basal rates, pre-running carb options and running belts.  She even brought me two of her tummietote belts to try. Thank you!!

Because we are not only T1s but are also runners, we talked about resting heart rates, marathon training schedules and running paces.  It's great to be able to talk the talk with someone who knows the lingo.

So back to hills.

Running on relatively flat surfaces is one thing. Hill training is a very different beast and something that is hard to really understand until you do it. So Scully bravely headed out with Doug and I, not quite sure what she was getting herself in to. We ran down to the bottom of the hill, turned around and ran part way up (three hydro poles to be exact).  Back down to the bottom and then up four hydro poles.  And five. And six. And so forth until we finally got to the top. Every time, Doug took off like a rocket, I ran my pace and Scully was a few steps behind.  The farther up the hill we ran, the more she closed the distance. 

Did I mention that this was her first official hill training session? 

And that this is something I've been doing semi-regularly for three years?

She is one strong runner!

Every time we got to the top, we caught our breath and caught up on our numbers.  How's your sugar?  How's your heart rate? 

Once we made it to the top of the hill, I said that I would normally do one more hill and then head home.  She suggested two.

Atta girl!

After the run, I suggested that Scully join Doug and I next week again for some 800m interval training.  She readily agreed.  I explained exactly what we are going to do so that she knows how long the run will be and can figure out what to do about adjusting basal rates.  'Cause us diabetics gotta know these things.

In exchange for hill and interval training, I am going to be dragged going to Hamilton at some point to try stair climbing.  Apparently it's a great workout that I will feel for days afterwards. 

Gulp.

Pump Adjustments and Hill Running

Well, I changed my infusion site yesterday and my blood sugar levels dropped back to almost normal.  Still running a little high but that means 8-9 rather than 17+ so I can't complain too much.  It will be nice when this post high headache I'm nursing decides to fly the coop.  

Despite my sugars heading back down to a less horrifying range, something still feels off.  I may be fighting a cold or something else might be kicking my liver into producing a little extra sugar.  Or it may be time to adjust my pump settings. 

That's always a little scary because, when I find something that works, it tends to work for a while.  I've had pretty consistently good sugars for a few months now so I'm not looking forward to messing with them. Fiddling with basal rates, correction rates and bolus calculations always makes things worse before they get better.  So I'm holding out another day to see if things settle - or if I start coughing and sneezing. 

On a happier note, I have a date tonight. A hill running date with Scully, my T1 running buddy.  We don't have to run hills.  It's not on any training schedule.  We could just head out along the canal path for a while and chat as we run.  But nope, we're doing hills...

...for fun.

It's supposed to be pouring rain just to add a little more adventure to the mix. 

I'm looking forward to it.  And so is she - despite her nervous sounding emails :)  It's always good to push ourselves a bit and it will be interesting to compare blood sugar reactions and heart rate fluctuations.  There aren't many people out there I can do both with.  I can hear the conversation already. 

Scully: "My blood sugar was 8.7 before and it's 7.4 after.  How was yours?" 

Celine: "Well, mine was 11.6 but my heart rate never went above 145.  Yours?"

Scully: "Mine hit 195!"

Celine: "Is that good?  I don't know if that's good. I still haven't figure out the heart rate thing. Gawd!"

So, if anyone spots two ladies with matching insulin pumps wrapped in ziplock bags running hills in the rain this afternoon - that would be us. 

And if it's not us, get their email addresses so that we can invite them to join our little group of nutters.

Seventeen One Too Many Times

I have read about other people's issues with insulin pump insertion sites.  I heard that sometimes they don't work well and a person's blood sugar climbs through the roof.  I've read about that and thought - wow that's sucks.

Never had it happen to me though. Not once in the 2+ years I've been on the pump.

Well I have been fighting crazy high blood sugars for two days.  I hit 17 twice yesterday doing what I always do.  Taking the same breakfast bolus for the same breakfast.  Doing the same pre run routine I always do.  17?  Seriously? 

I woke up at 2am and my sugar was, you guessed it, 17.

Today, I was 17 AGAIN two hours after lunch.  The same lunch I often have with the same bolus.

Every time, I took extra insulin and my sugar went back down but never as low as it should have gone based on the amount of insulin I took.

I've ruled out illness because I don't feel sick.  Well, other than the disgusting, sluggish, headache-y nauseated feeling from being high.

I'm not stressed as far as I can tell.

I have no infections...that I've noticed anyway. 

I have not increased or changed my activity level.

There are no air bubbles in the tubing.

Could it be my insertion site?

I'm not due to change it until tomorrow but I'm willing to take a hit on the insulin loss by changing it early.  So I'm heading home early to do the ol'changeroo and see what's what.

Fingers crossed. 

Officially Official

It's officially official.

I have just signed myself up for my first marathon.

I was going to do the sensible thing.  Start training and see how I felt as the mileage increased.  If all went well up to about 25k, I figured I'd sign up then. 

Instead, in a moment of mild panic, I pulled out my credit card, entered my birth date and chose my shirt size.  Because as I sat at my desk, a little voice in my head whispered - what if it sells out?

The website shows the maximum runners allowed for the marathon as 1500.  But there is no indication as to whether there are 100 people already registered or 1000.  Imagine finding out too late that it has sold out.  That would, in simple terms, totally suck.

So I signed up.

I remember the first time I chose 'half marathon' from an online drop down menu.  I felt slightly hysterical - like I was just a little bit nuts even thinking I could run that far.  That hysteria lasted throughout the training and I constantly wondered if I was completely crazy for even trying it. This time, as I chose 'marathon', I felt rather peaceful. Like I know I will somehow pull this off but there is no point wasting one ounce of energy worrying about how.  I'll be needing that energy to train.

Unless a catastrophe happens (which it could I suppose), I will be standing at that start line on October 23rd.  I was also be crossing the finish line (hopefully the calendar will still say October 23rd!).  The 42.2 kilometers between the two points will remain shrouded in mystery until the day of but I'm guessing I will feel exhilirated, defeated, exhausted, pumped, strong, determined, unable to carry on and unwilling to give up.  I will cry several times for several different reasons.  I will spot friends on the course and their support will keep me moving.  I will spot the finish line and honestly doubt whether I will make it.  I fully expect to feel all of these things, plus some nausea thrown in for fun. 

Maybe that's why I'm not scared. 

I have faced these demons before and, if I've learned nothing else, I have learned that I can kick their ass when I need to. 

I'm sure that I will face things I haven't encountered before.  But I'm confident enough in my ability to push through that I'm not staying up nights worrying about it. 

Come what may...

So I've signed up and told the world.

Let's get this show on the road!

Heart Rate Monitoring and Monster Midges

Long weekends are just wonderful.  It's amazing how having one extra day can make all three days seem longer.  We can certainly stuff a lot of friends, family, food and fitness into such a small window.   I also took a few days off blogging and other internet pursuits which was nice.  It made me realize the value of being unplugged every so often...

So I'm trying to figure out heart rate stuff so I can get a better handle on what the numbers mean.  Last week I reported my heart rate ups and downs during a hill training run.  This weekend, I wore the HR monitor during my Saturday morning 10k run and again during our Sunday morning 35k bike ride.

Saturday morning was, in my opinion at least, very hot and humid.  Not yet being used to that kind of weather, I started off strong but was really struggling by the end.  I mean really really struggling. Every kilometre took a little longer to run - the first was a 5:40 and by the last I was running a 6:40.  My heart rate climbed pretty quickly to 160 bpm and held steady.  In the last couple of kilometres, where I was wilting from the heat, it slowly climbed to 172 bpm despite my slower pace.   So heart rate is not only affected by pace and exertion but also by heat??

When we went cycling on Sunday, I expected to see huge spikes every time we climbed up a big hill and then rapid drops as we coasted down the hills.  My quads were really tired from the run the day before as well as the crazy sideways walk I've been doing across my house twice a day.  So it felt like I was working extra hard just to keep moving forward. We rode up several challenging hills and my heart rate max for the ride was 162.  Panting, legs burning, can hardly keep the bike moving = 162 bpm.  Pretty much the same rate I get during regular runs.  The rest of the ride I averaged about 120 bpm.  So cycling, no matter how hard it feels has less impact on heart rate than running??

What does it all mean?  I find cycling up a huge hill a lot more challenging than running down a flat road.  On the uphill, the blood is pounding in my ears and I can hardly catch my breath.  On a flat run, I'm just lopping along like the lone wolf - feeling strong but not struggling.  And yet my heart rate is pretty much the same.  I certainly couldn't cycle uphill for an hour but I can run for an hour, or two, or three...  So there is obviously more at play here than just heart rate.

Stay tuned for next time as I slowly try to figure this all out...

In the meantime, here are a few pics from our Saturday afternoon hike through Rockway.  It has been raining for weeks (it seems) and the river was swollen beyond its banks.  Pretty amazing.

The midges were also pretty amazing.  They attacked like a swarm of blood lusting sharks and had us high-tailing it back to the car.  Thank goodness for ice packs, three hour naps and Benadryl.  Two days later and my ear is almost back to normal size.  My neck still looks like I barely survived the plague but I'm sure it just adds to my nature girl mystique :)

Side-Stepping My Way to Strong Quads.

Our marathon training schedule has been posted.  Official start date for training: July 4th, 2011 (maybe there will be fireworks!). Official race date: October 23rd, 2011.

I now know what my running life will look like over the next 5 months. It's exciting and, of course, a little scary.  If I am actually able to pull this whole thing off, I will be very impressed.

So I did what I always do when I get a new training schedule.  I printed it off and headed upstairs to show one of my co-workers who happens to be a non-runner.

When I showed her my first 10k schedule, she was impressed.

My first 1/2 marathon schedule - she was doubly impressed.

My first 30k - she voiced some concern about my ability to handle the distance.

My marathon schedule - she took one look at it and burst out laughing.  Kept laughing.  Stopped long enough to say 'good luck with that' and laughed again. 

Apparently I've officially entered the 'you're crazy' realm of running. 

I'm ok with that.

Speaking of crazy, last night I spent a whopping 5$ on a therapeutic band that will apparently help strengthen my hips and quads.  Another problematic area of mine.  Turns out I have a lot of muscle mass up there but it's not strong enough to keep me stabilized when I run. So I received instructions from both Geoff and Janice to work on that area. 

Must.  Get.  Stronger.

Picture this if you will.  I tie the band in a loop and then step inside of it.  The loop goes around my knees.  I stand with my feet fairly close together and then take one big step sideways, keeping the other leg in place.  I bring the leg that didn't move back into position and then take another big step sideways.  I have been told to to this from one end of my house to the other and back again - six times.  Twice a day. Six days a week.

So this morning, in a state of semi-dress (I get hot damn it!) I was side stepping back and forth from kitchen to living room and back again.  Doug puttered away in the kitchen as through this was perfectly normal and this is what everyone does after breakfast.

The band is stretchy but there is a lot of resistance.  It takes strength to take a big step and keep the other leg stable. About five steps in to this routine, the entire outside of my hip and quad were feeling the burn.  Twice a day every day.  My quads are going to get so big I won't be able to fit through the door!

So, if you're out and about in the early morning hours and see a strange looking lass walking kinda funny in her living room, don't worry about it.  She's just getting in shape for her marathon training.

Crazy runners indeed.

Strength in Weakness

I like to think that I am a strong person. 

I'm talking physically strong here - let's leave the emotionally strong discussion for another blog entry shall we?

I look at the evidence - my calves are pretty muscular, I can cycle up big hills without needing to get off my bike and I can run for a long time.  Ergo I'm strong.

My sense of logic then tells me that, if I'm strong, it should take more to hurt me than it takes someone who is less strong.  Making sense so far??

I like to think so too.

So how is it possible that wearing recovery sandals for a few hours each evening (most of which time is actually spent sitting) may be the cause of my shin and feet flare up, my rock hard, inflexible calves and my overworked massage therapist? Seriously folks?  I personally know plenty of people who will go from wearing winter boots to flip flops without a twinge.  I'm talking paper thin bottoms with tiny straps and a hard little thing between their toes kinda flipflops. They will spend the next few months wearing these sandals with absolutely no support and not require medical intervention.

So then why the hell do I break down if I put on support sandals rather than running shoes??  I even eased into them.  Fifteen minutes one day, twenty the next.  It's not like I put them on and hiked the Great Wall.  I was sensible about it.  Sensible about the Vibrams too.  I've been easing into them at a rate that would test the patience of a sloth. It's been a month and I still haven't run a step in them.

It boggles the mind.

Really it does.

So my dear legs, I solemnly swear that I will dutifully increase my stretching and icing routine, reduce my sandal and Vibram time, do exercises to strengthen my legs. And perhaps you in return could get yourself back on track. 

DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH I DO TO TAKE CARE OF YOU???

I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I know I'm asking a lot of you and I know you are trying your best. I shouldn't have yelled.

Let's look at this weakness as an opportunity for strength.  I will redouble my efforts to be strong and yet flexible, I will try to listen more to what my body is telling me and ensure that it has what it needs in order to do what I need it to do. 

And I won't for one second give in to panic when I think about all the training I will have to do this summer to be ready for October.  We'll be fine.

Just

fine.

Uphill, It All Evens Out

I don't know if you remember my run two weeks ago when I went out with two younger gentlemen for an 'easy' 5k. Well, one of those boys (Matt) and I are trying to fit in a weekly 30-40 minute run together.

The plan for this week was to leave from my house, run down the Rodman Hall hill and hit the trails. 

Anyone living in Southern Ontario knows that it has been raining non-stop for days now so the trail idea was quickly kiboshed. No need to come home completely soaked AND covered in mud.

So, I suggested a wee bit of hill training.  Matt, being gung ho for pretty much anything, quickly agreed.  We headed out in the rain and ran down down down to the bottom of the hill.  He's never really done hill training before so I did a quick review on how to swing his arms and to keep his eyes focused on the top of the hill. I explained that we typically run up the length of two telephone poles, turn around and run back down.  Then we run up three telephone poles, and back down.  This cycle continues until we get to the top which is eleven telephone poles away. 

Sounds easy non?

Absofrak'inlutely not!

But it is so rewarding when you're done.  We felt ambitious so we started out with three telephone poles and ran that hill 8 times, clocking 4.6k in total (uphill and downhill).  Pretty much the same distance as our regular 5k runs but a completely different workout. We felt exhausted and pumped at the same time and headed home looking like someone threw buckets of water on us. Man it was raining!  

The best part for me?  I struggle to keep up with Matt on flat ground.  Add a bit of an incline and suddenly things were a little more evenly balanced.  The longer the hill, the farther I inched ahead.  Nice!

Here's hoping it rains a lot this summer :)

For those of you interested in the little details - I decided to try my heart rate monitor during the run.  I rarely wear it and am trying to get a sense of my heart rate, target zones, max rate etc.  My sitting down on my ass heart rate is about 55 bpm.  Yesterday night, my average during the run was 156 and the peak (nearing the top of the last hill climb) was 177.  Not sure yet if that means I was seconds away from death or if I'm an athlete of olympic quality but those were the numbers.

Not. Fasting.

I go see my endo exactly two weeks from today.  That means it's time for bloodwork again.  Which means the little diabetic girl has to fast for 12 hours.  For details on how fun fasting is, check out the play by play from the last time I had to do it. Fasting is no easy feat for the diabetically inclined.

So last night I dutifully counted carbs at dinner, avoided a late night snack and checked my sugar several times before bed to see if it was holding steady.  It was.  There were no lows in the middle of the night (bonus!) and I woke up feeling fine.  Sweet! 

Blood sugar check = 3.9 (sigh).  I had to eat something which means no bloodwork for me today.

So I hopped in the shower and began working out my plan of attack for tommorrow morning. Suddenly, out of nowhere, two words literally exploded in my head. 

Not.

Fasting.

Now February feels like a long time ago but I had a vague memory of my endo writing that on the top of my blood test form. 

I thought a little harder....YES!!!  She did write that. 

See, after years of trying very hard, I finally managed to get my cholesterol low enough (as in super human low) thanks to a wee beige pill I take every morning.  Apparently once one reaches the target range, they do not have to have their cholesterol checked for a year. It's that test that requires fasting.  All I need to have checked this time is my A1C.

Yes, I did indeed do a little happy dance in the shower.

I waltzed downstairs, made my delicious morning shake, lounged around a bit and headed to work.  Because folks, I work right next to the lab where I go for bloodwork.  And no fasting means no waiting in line with everyone else at 7:30am.  I can skip down the street at 2pm today if I want to, roll up my sleeve and answer "No, I did not fast" when they ask me.

Better yet, I could walk in at 7:30am with a coffee in one hand and a donut in the other.  Might piss off the other poor fasting folks but hey, I've been on that side of the table plenty of times and will be there again.  If keeping my cholesterol in check means I only have to fast for one test per year - I'm all for it.

It feels good to be in control.  I'll go get bloodwork done when I damn well feel like going.  Today, tomorrow, before work, at lunch.  Who cares really?  I sure as hell don't.

And that, my friends, feels fabulous!

Monkey Feet

I'm feeling a little lost this morning. It's the first day without a D-Blog week prompt to guide my thoughts. I miss the solidarity that I felt last when I read blog after blog written by people who get it. They might not be people just like me but they get it. My world kept expanding - getting bigger and bigger as I discovered more and more people. And now they're gone.

Well, they're not really gone.

But we've lost that tie that held us all together last week.

We've all gone back to our lives and no longer have daily blog topics to connect us.

Such is life.

That being said, I've written about diabetes for a week straight. Let's focus on running for a bit shall we?

We are six weeks out from the start of marathon training. The goals I set for myself between now and then were:

- to build up to running four days per week in May and then up to five days per week by the end of June.

- to start walking and then running in my Vibrams so that I could eventually use them to run my two 30 minute recovery runs.

- to take care of any nagging aches & pains so that I can start the training in good shape.

So far I have been able to run four days a week - but just barely. My mileage is pretty much the same as it was when I was only running 3 days but my shins, calves and feet are definitely feeling it. So much so that I am beginning to doubt my ability to run 5 days per week. I have Geoff (my chiropractor) and Janice (my massage therapist) working on me so perhaps it's just an issue of adjusting (she says hopefully...)

I have been walking around in my Vibrams and even took them on a trip to the grocery store. I expected a few strangers to stop me to ask why I was wearing green monkey feet. I actually imagined myself in a crazy commercial where I was walking to the store entrance as cars crashed into each other, people walked into poles and little children ran away crying from the crazy lady with the green feet. Instead, I heard not a peep from anyone. Not one double take, gasp or cry of fear...that is until I was heading to my car and heard my name being called from across the parking lot. "Céline? What the hell are you wearing on your feet??" 

And we all know how much I love attention...

I am feeling more and more like I will never be an injury-free runner.  Most of the time, I am ok with that.  Knowing that injury lies just around the next corner, I try harder to keep on top of stretching, icing and taking good care of my legs.  I do have a lot of wonderful runs where nothing hurts and I'm surprised how fast the kilometres fly by.  But typically there is always some sort of issue going on below my knees.  I'm still holding out hope that learning how to run properly in the Vibrams will help alleviate some of that.  We shall see.  If anyone out there has tips for learning the proper technique, send them my way.  I'm reading a lot on line but it's one of those things that doesn't really make sense until I try. My goal is a ten minute run up and down my street this week.

If you see a newscast about some strange female sasquatch running by Ridley College - don't worry. That's just me and my monkey feet out on the town.

Day 7: What I've Learned

I learned that I not nearly as disciplined with my diabetes as I should be.

I learned that I am way more disciplined with my diabetes than I need to be.

I learned that I handle challenges really well.

I learned that I could be better at handling challenges.

I learned that I have a very positive outlook.

I learned that I need to lighten up a bit.

I learned that there are a lot of people out there just like me.

I learned that I am absolutely unique.

I learned that, when it comes right down to it, diabetes is a very individual disease.

I learned that I am not alone.

The DOC (diabetes online community) is made up of people who come together for support, for knowledge, for encouragement and friendship.  Diabetes is what we have in common.  And sometimes that's all we have in common.  People I might never connect with in person, I connect with in the DOC.  Because they get me the way most people don't.  And that, my friends, is priceless.

Thank you Karen for organizing this fabulous week of blogging.  I feel so honoured to have been part of it and cannot wait to do it all again next year.

Day 6: Saturday Snapshots

My first photo idea was to take a picture of my insulin pump on top of a pile of homemade cookies.

Then I changed my mind and was going to take a picture of it on top of a pile of fast acting carbs.

Finally, I decided to include in with my ever growing pile of race medals.  Seemed fitting since diabetes is the inspiration for each and every one of them.

Day 5: Awesome Things

Awesome things about diabetes? That’s easy.

Diabetes motivates me to take care of myself even when I’d rather curl up in bed with a pile of cookies and a bottle of wine. It’s like having my very own personal trainer. On cold, dark mornings it stands at the foot of the bed and barks at me to get my lazy ass up and go for a run. It hovers by the cookies I just baked and doles out one or two but then stands there with arms crossed glaring at me if I reach for a third. It motivates me to keep my diet healthy, my weight stable, my activity level high and my stress level low. You can’t buy that kind of discipline.

Diabetes reminds me every day how lucky I am. Because of diabetes I live life to the fullest, love people with all my heart and don’t put up with things that piss me off. I have learned the hard way that life can change in an instant. Things I once thought were important became completely unnecessary and things I didn’t think I cared for became incredibly significant. Diabetes keeps things in perspective.

Diabetes taught me how strong and brave I can be. I was handed a life sentence on November 1st 2002. I have a chronic disease that will most likely shorten my life and quite possibly cause all sorts of nasty damage on the way despite my best efforts to keep it under control. It would be so easy to curl up and let fear take over my life. Instead, I face my fears every single day. I face them every time I run. Every time I cycle. Every time I go to bed. Every time I walk into one of my countless medical appointments hoping that this won’t be the appointment when I’m told I’m developing ‘complications’. That strength and bravery has spilled over into all parts of my life and made me better for it. I have become one tough chick thanks to Diabetes.

Because of Diabetes, I learned to run and have completed 6 half marathons and one 30k race. I bought a road bike, learned to ride and have completed two duathlons. I bought a camera and learned how to take pretty good pictures. I learned to say yes to things that scare me and, as a result, have photographed weddings, pro golf tournaments, the Cancer Society’s Relay for Life and all sorts of community events.

Diabetes has been a hugely positive force in my life – because I deliberately chose to make it a positive force. There is no telling where it will take me next. And yes, at the end of the day, it might be Diabetes that does me in. But in the meantime, it helps make my life rich and full of love and adventure.

Day 4: Things I Hate About You, Diabetes *Repost*

Something crazy happened in Bloggerville and all sorts of posts from May 11th were lost. I'm reposting yesterday's blog in case anyone missed it.  Funnily enough, it's one of the only blogs I have saved since I usually just type write into Blogger.

I have been dreading writing this post since I read it on the topic list last week. I never think of Diabetes as something other than just another part of my life. Yes, I get frustrated and yes, I get scared. But I adamantly refuse to waste time focusing on what I don’t like about Diabetes. It already takes up too much of my time and life is too short to hate anything. That being said, I will try…

1. I don’t like that the fact that I’m diabetic scares some people. I hate seeing the look in someone’s eye when I say my sugar is low. No matter how calmly I might say it, there are some people who seem to think I’m going to collapse in a heap in front of them. I’m not. Relax and just pass me some juice.

2. I resent how much money I spend to stay healthy. I want to be able to sign up for a race, get my hair cut or just buy a bottle of red wine without having to double check that I can afford it. I want to be able to save money. I want to have something left over after the bills are paid. I don’t. Way too much of my money goes to diabetes.

3. I want to walk barefoot outside all summer. I loved doing that as a kid and prided myself on how tough my feet got by the end of the summer. I could walk across the gravel driveway without a flinch. Now I keep my feet protected in sensible shoes all the time.

4. I can’t go for a run, even a short one, without it being a production. Must adjust insulin, must check sugar, must carry emergency glucose supply with me. Sometimes, I just want to go for a run in a t-shirt and shorts, no water belt, no snacks stuffed into pockets and no prescribed time or distance. Just run. I have never done that. Not once.

5. Eating when I’m not hungry sucks. Eating when I’m already stuffed from a huge dinner sucks big time. Eating when nauseous is just plain nauseating. I don’t like having to eat when I don’t want to.

6. Even less fun is wanting to eat but discovering a surprisingly high blood sugar and having to wait for it to go down first. My favourite thing in the world to have after a long run is a glass of chocolate milk. A post run high = no chocolate milk for me = not happy.

7. There is a part of me that spends every waking moment trying to figure out how I’m feeling. Not emotionally but physically. I can’t let my guard down. Watching a movie, watching the elite runners race to the finish line at the Boston marathon, giving a speech or making love. It’s hard to be 100% in the moment because a small part of me is constantly assessing and reassessing how I’m feeling. Am I high? Am I low? Climbing? Dropping?

8. One several occasions, I have told someone that I have diabetes and heard “oh, but I thought you were healthy”. I AM healthy damn it. Healthier than lots of people out there who have no chronic diseases. Go for a run with me, cycle up the Niagara Escarpment with me and then see what pops into your head. Diabetes? Probably not. Fit, healthy girl with strong legs - I would hope so.

9. Not knowing if what I’m feeling is me or just the diabetes is frustrating sometimes. Am I really upset about something or is my sugar just misbehaving and making me feel like I am? Am I tired and in need of a nap or is my sugar dropping? I second-guess emotions because I can’t be sure that they’re really mine.

10. I hate that I can actually think of nine things that I don’t like about Diabetes. But I do take comfort in the fact that it took me two days to come up with them. That must mean that I’m not too angry and bitter…right?

Day 4: Ten Things I Hate About You Diabetes

I have been dreading writing this post since I read it on the topic list last week. I never think of Diabetes as something other than just another part of my life. Yes, I get frustrated and yes, I get scared. But I adamantly refuse to waste time focusing on what I don’t like about Diabetes. It already takes up too much of my time and life is too short to hate anything. That being said, I will try…

1. I don’t like that the fact that I’m diabetic scares some people. I hate seeing the look in someone’s eye when I say my sugar is low. No matter how calmly I might say it, there are some people who seem to think I’m going to collapse in a heap in front of them. I’m not. Relax and just pass me some juice.

2. I resent how much money I spend to stay healthy. I want to be able to sign up for a race, get my hair cut or just buy a bottle of red wine without having to double check that I can afford it. I want to be able to save money. I want to have something left over after the bills are paid. I don’t. Way too much of my money goes to diabetes.

3. I want to walk barefoot outside all summer. I loved doing that as a kid and prided myself on how tough my feet got by the end of the summer. I could walk across the gravel driveway without a flinch. Now I keep my feet protected in sensible shoes all the time.

4. I can’t go for a run, even a short one, without it being a production. Must adjust insulin, must check sugar, must carry emergency glucose supply with me. Sometimes, I just want to go for a run in a t-shirt and shorts, no water belt, no snacks stuffed into pockets and no prescribed time or distance. Just run. I have never done that. Not once.

5. Eating when I’m not hungry sucks. Eating when I’m already stuffed from a huge dinner sucks big time. Eating when nauseous is just plain nauseating. I don’t like having to eat when I don’t want to.

6. Even less fun is wanting to eat but discovering a surprisingly high blood sugar and having to wait for it to go down first. My favourite thing in the world to have after a long run is a glass of chocolate milk. A post run high = no chocolate milk for me = not happy.

7. There is a part of me that spends every waking moment trying to figure out how I’m feeling. Not emotionally but physically. I can’t let my guard down. Watching a movie, watching the elite runners race to the finish line at the Boston marathon, giving a speech or making love. It’s hard to be 100% in the moment because a small part of me is constantly assessing and reassessing how I’m feeling. Am I high? Am I low? Climbing? Dropping?

8. One several occasions, I have told someone that I have diabetes and heard “oh, but I thought you were healthy”. I AM healthy damn it. Healthier than lots of people out there who have no chronic diseases. Go for a run with me, cycle up the Niagara Escarpment with me and then see what pops into your head. Diabetes? Probably not. Fit, healthy girl with strong legs - I would hope so.

9. Not knowing if what I’m feeling is me or just the diabetes is frustrating sometimes. Am I really upset about something or is my sugar just misbehaving and making me feel like I am? Am I tired and in need of a nap or is my sugar dropping? I second-guess emotions because I can’t be sure that they’re really mine.

10. I hate that I can actually think of nine things that I don’t like about Diabetes. But I do take comfort in the fact that it took me two days to come up with them. That must mean that I’m not too angry and bitter…right?

Day 3: Diabetes Bloopers

Oh let’s see if I can think of anything that has gone awry or triggered a giggle or two in the last 8 ½ years…

A few weeks before I was actually diagnosed with Type 1, I was on a two-week trip to France. I was losing weight like crazy and singlehandedly dropping the country’s water table with the amount I was drinking. Which means I was constantly on the lookout for la toilette. On one lovely walk through a park I was panic-stricken with the need to find a ladies room. We spotted one and I ran in, grateful to find that there was no line up. I pushed open the door to find…squat toilets. What?!?! I yanked down my pants, got halfway into position and couldn’t hold it anymore. Yes folks, I peed all over my pants and shoes. ALL OVER.

My not so brilliant cat found one of my lancets lying on the counter and proceeded to eat it.  Hard plastic parts, pointy needle part.  The whole damn thing.  We rushed him to the cat clinic once we found him lying in a semi conscious state.  He was fine...once he recovered from an acute case of pancreatitis (no joke).  Oh the ironies. 

I was camping way up in Northern Ontario and getting ready to change my insulin pump insertion site. I laid out my supplies, dug my insulin out from the cooler and prepared to do as sanitary a job as I could in the wild. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the clouds gathered, the wind picked up and the sky opened as a horrible storm came whipping through. I stood under the whirling tarp trying desperately to insert the needle as my partner ran around securing camping supplies and keeping everything from blowing away.

On my first flight to Cuba as a PWD I was paranoid about setting off alarms at the airport with my boxes of needles and vials of insulin. I came armed with letters from my doctors and had studied exactly how to explain the situation in Spanish just in case. Somehow, my needles, test strips, insulin and other paraphernalia made it through unnoticed but my forgotten Tim Hortons cookie was confiscated on sight. Sad day.

I learned quickly not to test myself too many times on the same finger. On one particular day, I pricked my finger but the blood wasn’t coming out so I squeezed…hard. Three recently used testing sites opened up and a spray of blood shot out – right into my eye and all over my face. Lovely.

This past winter I was out on a long run in the middle of a winter storm. My wonderful support team was carrying my supplies in the car but had put them in the trunk so my glucometer froze. We were too cold to warm it up in our hands so I tucked it into the warmest place I could find. Oh yes my friends – the glucometer crotch warming trick. Very effective in February snow storms!

Hope that elicited a few grins of solidarity out there…

Day 2: Letter Writing Day

My dear pancreas,

I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately and wanted to say hi. I miss you. I know I didn’t pay much attention to you when I was younger. I admit that I didn’t really appreciate our relationship. In fact, I completely took you for granted. For that, I am so very sorry.

It was only when we started having problems that I realized how much I really needed you. But by then, it was too late. You were leaving and there was nothing I could do to make you stay. I was left frightened and feeling very alone.

It has been almost nine years since we’ve been together. A lot has happened since then. I want you to know that I’m doing fine. More than fine actually. At first, I worried that you left because of something I did. Perhaps if I had been better somehow you would have stayed. I now know that is not the case. There was nothing I could have done differently, nothing that would have changed the fact that you had to go. I’ve made my peace with that and I hope you are happy with your choices too.

Don’t worry, I am not angry or hurt. But I do miss you.

I want you to know that your leaving changed my life…for the better.

When you left, I grew strong and brave. I learned to question the choices I had made and understood how fragile life can be. I learned the importance of living for today and made changes to my life that I would not have had the courage to make when you and I were together. My life today is rich, challenging and full of love.

Ironically, I am much healthier now. I take really good care of myself and am surrounded by people who do the same. I am not afraid of being selfish – I have learned to say no. I choose things that make me feel good and avoid things that don’t.

Did you hear? I’m getting ready to start training for a marathon! How crazy is that? Do you remember when you and I used to work out together? A walk here, a step class there, some weights at the gym – that was it. You wouldn’t recognize me now - I would totally kick your ass.

Honestly, if you and I were still together, I would not be who I am today. Every brave, life-changing choice I ever made, I made after you left.

I am grateful for the time we did have together. Some people are not nearly as lucky as you and I were. We had 28 wonderful years and for that I will be forever grateful. As for what the future holds, I know very well how impossible that is to predict. We shall see won’t we?

Take care of yourself my friend. I will do the same.

Love,
Céline

Day 1: Admiring our Differences

I am new to the blogging world and even less experienced with the diabetes blogging world. Before January of this year, I had never read blogs and it never occurred to me that I could find friends out there in the blogosphere. Statistically, I knew that there were plenty of people with diabetes out there…somewhere. But, truth be told, I really didn’t know any of them. I have a few people in my life who have Type 2 diabetes but diabetes never played a key role in our relationship.

I knew no one with Type 1.

On a whim I decided to start blogging and, as a result, discovered other blogs. One here, one there. It didn’t take long for me to start clicking on other bloggers’ favourite blogs and it just mushroomed. I discovered that there is a huge, diverse, passionate diabetes community out there. We have one thing in common – diabetes.

That’s it.

That’s enough.

I started out by looking for people like me - Type 1 diabetics with a passion for running. It took a whole ten minutes to find someone my age, with a similar story, living 30 minutes down the highway. At the time she was also training for the same 30k race I was and we even use the same insulin pump (only hers is purple instead of blue). Ah-mazing! She makes me laugh, makes me think and shares some of her tricks for trying to keep blood sugars in check.

My next discovery was a father with Type 1 diabetes who has five children, two of whom also have Type 1 diabetes. I follow his daily struggles with trying to find ways to afford all of the supplies they need to stay healthy, keeping a close eye on his youngest daughter who doesn’t feel her lows and staying on top of his own A1Cs. His daily reports give me perspective when I face my own struggles with the incessant demands of diabetes - financial, physical, and psychological.

I also found some pretty hard core athletes who were blogging away about their triathlon training sessions, their crazy workouts and fabulous race times – as well as their blood sugar struggles and tricks for carrying supplies during marathons. They keep me motivated and inspired. A perfect example of if they can do it, so can I.

Finally, I branched out a bit and found others who share the same disease but who struggle with things that do not appear on my radar. The struggles so many Type 1 women face for good blood sugar control because they so desperately want to get pregnant and have a healthy child. The struggles with depression, with fear, with complications. The struggles with trying to raise a child with Type 1 diabetes.

I read them all.

I am left humbled. Inspired. Sometimes angered. Always touched.

The best thing about diabetes you ask?

The people.

Notice: D-Blog Week is Coming!

Next week is the second annual Diabetes Blog (or D-Blog) Week. 

Don't worry - I didn't know what it was either... 

But I checked it out and have signed up to be part of the movement.  Because I think it's a great idea both for me personally as well as for the entire diabetes community.  Not to mention the non-diabetes community who may just want to learn a little bit more about what all the diabetes fuss is about.

Here's how it works.  There are seven days and seven blog topics.  Each day, bloggers participating in D-Blog Week will write about the day's topic.  Anyone interested can read the blogs and get all sorts of different perspectives from people with diabetes, people who love people with diabetes, or people who advocate about diabetes.  From all over the world. 

What a great idea!

The topics are pretty cool too and have already got me thinking about what I'm going to write. 

Over the seven days I get to write a letter to someone or something (ex my pump) about my diabetes, share some diabetes bloopers, vent about the frustrations and celebrate all the awesome things about diabetes.  Oh, and I get to take some pictures too. 

There are already over 100 bloggers signed up with more joining up every day.

When I started my little blog back in January, I really just wanted a creative outlet to write.  I did not expect to make new friends. I had no idea that there was such a strong online diabetes community out there or how great it would be to connect with others 'like me'. I am a lone wolf no longer and there is a great comfort in knowing that there are people who get it.

Next week is going to be informative, inspiring, heart-wrenching and tons of fun.  For those of you kind folks who stop by my blog on a regular basis, my daily musings about diabetes, running and life will have a decidedly diabetic slant. I hope it provides some insight into my world and that it inspires you to check out some of the other amazing diabetes bloggers out there.



If you want more information, click on the link above or head over to Karen's blog.  She's the lady behind the idea.

My Mind's Slow Simmer

I took part in a training session yesterday about communication.  At the beginning of the session each of us was asked whether we make decisions primarily with our minds or with our hearts. 

Most people said that it usually depended on the situation - sometimes mind and sometimes heart.  Fair enough I guess but I don't work that way. 

I learned a long time ago how I make decisions and my little method has served me well.  The process may take seconds (should I buy that new running jacket?) or may take months (should I stay or should I go?) but it's almost always the same. 

My heart (or my gut if you prefer) informs me immediately what my final decision will be and then my mind simmers away working out all the logical reasons why that decision is in fact the best decision. I trust how my mind and heart work together and let them do a lot of the background work on their own. In fact, this system works so well that it often happens without much active work on my part.  Things just simmer away (I supposed I should say subconsciously) until I receive confirmation that the final decision has been made and both heart and mind are in agreement.

I thought a lot about it yesterday and I really couldn't come up with a good example of a time when my gut told me one thing that I talked myself out of it later.  At least not a significant decision - I do change my mind about menu items, whether or not I want tea or if I want red or white wine with my dinner. 

Pretty much all day every day, my mind simmers away in the background even while it is actively working away on something else.  Decision are made, plans are developed and I often don't even realize what's happened until someone asks me what I want to do about something and I start spouting out detailed plans. I can be typing policies for work while it debates with itself whether or not I will run after work, how far and how hard I will run and what I will wear.  At the end of the afternoon, the policy is written and all running decisions were made. 

Was I even there?

Is that normal?

Does everyone's mind work that way?

I doubt it.

My point in all of this is that we get used to how we do things and how we see the world.  My methods work for me and I don't give much thought about what everyone else does until we're asked to share in a group. I listen to everyone else explain how they do something and I nod politely while my mind thinks "really?!? That's odd." 

I learned the hard way that logic for one is not logic for all.  In high school I was asked to tutor someone in math. I liked math and was doing fine so it seemed like a fun, easy thing to do.  Share my wicked knowledge of numbers. 

It was such a bomb that we did not survive two sessions.  I showed the person how I worked through a problem and the look I got in return was priceless.  Not because he could not comprehend the math, just because he really thought I was nuts.  He couldn't solve the problem on his own and I couldn't find another way to explain how to solve it so we were doomed from the start.

Here's a fun activity to try - ask someone to do something (calculate the tip, solve a Sudoku or follow a new recipe) and then ask them the process they took to do it.  It's the process, not the final answer, that I find fascinating.  Because man oh man, there is more than one way to skin a cat.  And learning how other people do it gives great insight into how they think. 

It's not always easy to understand how each person sees the world.  But just keeping in mind that it's probably not how we see it can be helpful - when making decisions together, planning a trip or figuring out a math problem.

Humans.

Crazy bunch of nutters.

My New Pace Bunnies

When my two sisters and I were growing up, we shared a few special days each year with the three sons of my parents' good friends.  We sort of overlap in age with me being the oldest of the six of us.  Every year we had a pool party in the summer and shared a special meal around Valentines Day. We watched each other grow up and, now that we're all in some stage or another of adulthood, it's pretty neat to get together.

The middle son is home for the summer and the youngest son happens to be home for a week so they asked me if they could come running with me tonight.  Nothing too hard they said.  We haven't been running in a while they said.  Just 5k ok?  We'll try to keep up they said.

Oh my good god.

I joked with a co-worker before leaving to meet them: "if you see an older lady chasing two young boys down the parkway around 5pm, that would be me."

I am trying to get faster - I really really am.  I can now confidently run up to 10k while keeping a brisk pace of between 6:15 and 6:30.  No matter how tired I get, I no longer allow myself to run more than 7:00.  While I may not qualify for Boston, for me - that's pretty freaking amazing.

Keep in mind that I can sustain this pace if everyone leaves me alone, no one tries to chat with me and I have my music keeping me moving.

Tonight I ran 5k with two boys who, while claiming to be completely out of shape, started off at a pace of 5:30.  They then immediately started chatting away.  "How was Boston?" "What are your plans for the summer?" "What was your last race?"

A few minutes in, I was feeling decidedly unfit and trying to find a polite way to tell them that there is no way I can run with them all summer if this is their 'out of shape' pace.  That was about the time that the youngest asked if we minded if he ran ahead.  He proceeded to bound off down the road like a gazelle - leaving the two of us looking like we were out for a casual stroll.

It's hard to be too bothered - I love those guys. They are young, extremely intelligent and super-eager to share all the cool things they are learning and doing in school.  We never run out of things to talk about. The thought of running with at least one of them during the summer makes me want to push hard to keep up.  So, while the younger speed demon runner is leaving this weekend, I have committed to trying to run my 30-40 minute Wednesday runs with his older brother.  These runs are supposed to be recovery runs.  You know - nice and slow.  They will most likely be anything but.  But during these speed training sessions I will have fabulous discussions about theology, ecology, Magic the Gathering, proper running form and world travel.

Can't really complain about that.

FInding Solidarity in a Solitary Sport

There are plenty of things that I don't like about how much information I learn about other people through Facebook and other social media.  I think the biggest issue for me is that I have fairly clear rules in my head about what I will and will not share with others and it makes me uncomfortable when other people break those rules for themselves.  While it's certainly their prerogative, I really don't want to know about their fight with their boyfriend, drunken fiasco, divorce drama or bowel movements.  Way too personal.

That being said, I have discovered that there is something really really positive about sharing things.

Sharing helps, inspires and encourages other people to try things they might not normally try. 

Like running. 

I started running on my own a few years ago.  There was no one in my life who ran (that I knew of anyway).  My sister and father had run (past tense) but my inspiration came from something internal rather than external.  As I started running and discovered how much I loved it, I became one of those annoying runners who talked about it all the time.  Family dinners, staff meetings, lunch with friends - I would try my hardest not to bring it up and would perhaps last ten minutes before I somehow turned the conversation to running.  Sad but true. 

I'm sure it annoyed some people.

But it inspired others. 

I have had six friends join the running clinic since I started.  I have received emails and Facebook messages from friends who have started running on their own and who have all sorts of questions.  I've had co-workers come to my office with a look of excitement on their faces to tell me (in a hushed voice) that they have started running - "it's only a few minutes at a time but I'm running!"  To which I respond "running is hard stuff and if you can already run a few minutes that's amazing!".

I'm certainly not claiming that all of these people are able to run because of me.  As anyone who runs knows, it's hard and takes a lot of commitment and self-discipline.  That can only come from within and I take no responsibility for anyone's successes.

But I do love the fact that everyone knows I run and therefore people who also run seek me out to share successes, ask for advice about electrolytes, layering or chafing or marvel at what a difference a five degree change in temperature can make. 

It's amazing to watch someone transform as they begin to run.  They gain confidence and learn that they are capable of so much more than they thought they were.  You can just see it in their eyes. 

I am grateful each and every time someone includes me in their journey. 

Yellow Pee

I'm fairly sure you've all heard that you are supposed to check the colour of your urine to know how hydrated you are. 

How the hell am I supposed to know if I'm hydrated enough when my pee is bright yellow from the multivitamin I took this morning? 

There is a certain comfort on the days when I don't take my vitamins because I get to watch the colour fade with each trip to the ladies.  By early afternoon, it's pretty much clear with just a faint yellow tinge.  Not today.  Today it looks like Big Bird melted in my toilet. 

I've heard all the jokes and comments already.  When you take vitamins, all you're doing is spending money to create really expensive urine.  Just eat a healthy diet and you'll be fine. 

Follow Canada's Food Guide. 

DON'T follow Canada's Food Guide. 

I actually had one person tell me that the daily requirements in the food guide are those that pig farmers follow when feeding their pigs. They warned me not to follow it because humans aren't pigs. Seriously?!?

Good lord.

I would love to be able to meet all of my nutritional needs in the healthiest way possible.  Trust me, I try hard.  But I have learned some lessons along the way about my body and about eating. 

Lesson one - I cannot for the life of me keep my iron levels up through diet alone.  I've tried all the iron rich foods, made sure I had vitamin C at the same time to help with absorption etc etc but if I slack off even for a few days I can feel it dropping again.  I have learned to recognize the signs - dark circles under my eyes, no energy during runs and a hard time trying to catch my breath when running. 

Lesson two - I don't get enough calcium.  I have yogurt and soy milk for breakfast, yogurt at lunch and often nibble on cheese before dinner. After runs, I'll have a glass of chocolate milk (my favourite post run treat).  Add that all up and I get about half of my daily requirement of calcium.  Osteoporosis is pretty common on my mother's side so I need to be extra careful about keeping my bones strong and healthy.

Lesson three - diabetes can affect how I absorb nutrients from the food that I do eat.  Over time, that absorption will probably deteriorate.  So I have to be extra vigilant.

Lesson four - I honestly don't think that there are enough meals in the week to eat all of the foods we're supposed to eat.  I exercise a fair amount and have a healthy appetite.  I don't skip meals (ever!) and I'm pretty fond of snacks too.  We don't eat fast food and cook 95% of our meals at home.  Every meal has carbs, veggies and protein and snacks are usually fruit and yogurt. And yet I cannot get manage to get all the servings of fish, multi-coloured veggies, dairy and healthy grains that are recommended.

So I take vitamins. 

I take a multivitamin, calcium supplement and a fish oil capsule most days of the week.  When my iron drops to the point of affecting my life, I take an iron supplement too. 

So my pee is bright yellow.  Apparently it's from the B12 or B-complex in the multivitamin.  The body absorbs what it needs and expels the rest as Big Bird. 

I may be throwing my money away.  Or I may be really really grateful when I'm 75 years old and still standing tall and straight. 

It's hard to know. 

Just like it's hard to know if I'm hydrated enough today.

One thing is certain - Big Bird is my bff.

Health, Life, Love and Food

Every day is an experience.

My nature is a little Pollyanna-esque.  Actually, it's very Pollyanna with a little dash of practicality, a pinch of whimsy and a dollop of twisted thrown in for fun.

The always look on the bright side of me really does see every day as a new adventure and an opportunity to experience as much as possible.

Today was a celebration of health, life, love and food.

It started off as most Sundays do with an early morning bike ride through Niagara.  Today, eight of us showed up and we had a great ride (minus the funnel bugs that kept getting stuck in my eyelashes and lipbalm. Disgusting beyond belief.  On our ride, we saw all sorts of uprooted trees and I learned after last Thursday to never ever plant blue spruce.  For those of you who don't know, last Thursday we were hit with a terrible windstorm that ripped a roof off of a school, uprooted hundreds of trees, tore the huge letter A off the casino sign in Niagara Falls and shut down the Queenston Lewinston bridge for the first time in history.  The wreckage is everywhere and shocking to see.  It looks like a war zone in some places. And I learned from this experience that the root systems of blue spruces spread out rather than down so it doesn't take much to topple them.

Don't plant them!

The ride itself was great - just a little faster than comfortable but I pushed hard and kept up the pace the whole time.  The blood sugar gods cooperated as well - always an added bonus. After our bike ride, we rushed home to watch the Ridley College students march right past our door - in full uniform complete with marching band.  Not sure I would have wanted to do that at 13 but it was fun to see.  Especially the poor kids with no rhythm who couldn't seem to march to the beat.

This afternoon, we were volunteers at the annual Hike for Hospice.  Hospice is a wonderful place that offers end of life care for residents of Niagara.  In a place that you would expect to be full of pain and sorrow is a hidden world full of love and life.  Tears flow of course but so does love.  I had the honour of photographing the event and spent the afternoon trying to capture the day without intruding on private moments.

The new Food and Drink magazine came out this week and, as usual, it's chock full of recipes just begging to be tried.  So Japanese Chicken Curry was tonight's culinary adventure.  Pretty tasty and the house smells like a gourmet restaurant. The best part about it was that I learned how to make real curry.  Mixing about 10 different spices together to produce a delicious curry powder is pretty cool considering that, until tonight, I used to just buy premixed curry.  Even the mortar and pestle were put to use.

Health, life, love and food.

Another good day in my books.