Come From Away

When I think (or write) about something too much, it starts to feel like that's the only thing going on in my life. Last week was D-Blog week and, while it was a wonderful way to explore all things diabetes and discover some pretty neat bloggers out there, it's a lot of dia-writing. After 6 days of writing solely about the diabetes part of my life - I was pretty much done. I didn't even write anything for Day 7 - I just needed a bit of a break.

After spending three wonderful days on the back deck, enjoying the warm breezes and the sounds of nature, I'm ready to get back at it.

Which is a good thing because there are plenty of things I need to get back to.

This is going to a whirlwind of a week. Monday was a Canadian holiday (one of the best holidays of the year in my books) so the first day of the work week is today (Tuesday). For me, the end of this work week is tomorrow (Wednesday). On Thursday morning - we're heading to the airport and then we're off to Nova Scotia for the Cabot Trail Relay Race. I've mentioned this race a few times already and, after months of planning and training - it's finally upon us.

Seventy teams of 17 runners (plus support crews) will be descending on Baddeck, Nova Scotia. For a village of 2,152 - their population is about to double. Hotels, motels, cabins and campgrounds will be overrun with come from aways. Hopefully the grocery store(s?) and gas stations have topped up or we will be eating them out of house and home. I kinda feel like we're a swarm of locusts about to land and clear them out of bottled water, toilet paper, ibuprofen and beer.

So far, I've managed to avoid being recruited as a last-minute runner for our team despite having one injured participant. Barring any last-minute emergencies, I should escape with only my driving responsibilities (which are pretty intense already thank you very much - one 12-hour stint followed by a 7-hour one with only 5 hours of downtime in between) but I'm bringing my running gear just in case.

Last minute instructions have been emailed to the team members. Lime green nail polish and kermit green eye shadow has been purchased (we are the Mojitos after all) and our fabulous team shirts and hoodies are being delivered today. Route maps, elevation maps, race rules, detailed timing charts and packing lists have been printed. Camera bags packed, diabetes supplies organized and clothing for all weather has been laid out. This is the East Coast of Canada after all - the weather is rugged and wild and we can easily experience fog, rain, wind, sunshine and blue skies all within an hour.

The East Coast of Canada, more than any other place in the world (except perhaps Ireland and Scotland) is where I am happiest. I was made for that kinda weather. That kinda harsh marine lifestyle where the living is rough and the scenery is spectacular. Where the people are friendly and their accents trigger long-lost images of my Irish ancestors. Their music feels hauntingly familiar and their food (other than the horror that is cod-tongue) has had me dreaming of oysters for weeks.

A wee taste of  Nova Scotia slang for you - Dijjaeetyet?? No, djew? No, yawnta? Yupp. 

Did I mention that our post-relay celebratory lunch is lobster?