There are days when I'd really like the diabetes gods to behave.
There are days when I'd really really like them to behave.
And there are days when they do.
Sometimes I think they behave simply because they're not in the mood to cause trouble and they'd just prefer to curl up in front of the TV and let me handle the remote.
And there are other times when I think they actually realize how important it is for them to just give me a break.
Usually these days, hours or moments happen not long after they have put me through the ringer.
Sunday - the diabetes gods were on their absolute best behaviour and I like to think it was a gift.
They had tossed two pretty horrific blood sugar disasters my way during my half marathon training which derailed my last two long training runs. My confidence in my ability to handle long runs and diabetes was a little shaken.
So was my confidence in my ability to run long distance.
But there was no more time to practice - I was down to one taper week. No more trial runs.
I know enough about running to know that race day is not the best day to try something new. Don't wear a new shirt or sports bra. Don't try a new kind of electrolyte. Don't mess with your blood sugar routine.
But I had to do something. I couldn't have another run with record high blood sugars. Not on race day.
So I messed with my routine - but just a little.
Instead of turning my basal rate down to 50% an hour and a half before, I turned it down to 70% an hour before.
I ate breakfast two hours before the run so I took almost my entire bolus for it rather than 50%.
I had a lot more insulin floating around in my system than I normally do for such a long run. But I wanted to avoid the ridiculous highs of the last two long runs and I wanted to be able to eat on the course. I hate running with high sugars, feeling starved and yet being unable to eat anything.
I started the race with a blood sugar of 10.9. I had a gel.
At 11k I was 10.6. I had another gel and some edisks.
At 17k I was 10.8.
At the finish I was 8.6.
Some people may find my numbers a little too high but I was just so grateful to have stable numbers that weren't in the high 20s.
Half marathons are hard enough as it is. Riding a blood sugar roller coaster at the same time is just awful.
When I got to that start line, I felt like I had a lot to prove to myself. I needed to prove that I was indeed healed and that I could again call myself a distance runner. I needed to prove that I was indeed faster than I was last year. And I needed to prove that I could manage running and diabetes.
My legs held up beautifully.
I didn't meet my finish time goal but I was close enough to know that it's entirely possible to meet it next time.
And the diabetes gods gave me a break and, for once, let me be a runner. Just like everybody else.