I don't think I can honestly say that I never wimp out of long runs but I think I have enough evidence to argue that I rarely wimp out of long runs. I have dutifully headed out in 30+ degrees to run for two hours. I have headed out into -30 degrees to run for two hours. Wind, humidity, rain - I've run in pretty much everything.
Friday night, the weather folks were all screaming about the rain we were about to get. It's going to rain all night and all day Saturday they warned.
Doug had 25k to run. I had 18k. We decided to set the alarm and see what the weather was doing. If it was even close to ok, we'd risk it. If not, we'd decide what to do.
We woke up to pouring rain and this on the radar map.
We are the little red diamond in the centre of the yellow, red and green clouds.
I really didn't want to run in the pouring rain for two hours. I just really really didn't. I didn't want to come back soaking wet, wrinkled and pruny, shivering. I didn't want to have to struggle to check my blood sugar in the middle of a long country road with soaking wet fingers.
"Céline, stop being such a wimp" my brain chastised. "I know, I know" I thought, I should just get out there and run.
I don't want to be a wimp.
And still I wimped out. Put on my bathrobe and padded downstairs for breakfast. Feeling guilty. Wanting to run on Saturday so I could cycle with my friends on Sunday. Wanting to get the 18k done so it wasn't looming over my head all day. Knowing that, once I committed to breakfast and took insulin, I was closing the door on any chance of running for at least three hours. What if it cleared up? Then I'd be sitting at home unable to run because I took too much insulin.
Damnit!
I made breakfast and took the full bolus for it. I decided that 11am would be the next magic number. If the rain stopped and my blood sugar was ok - I would run then. If not, I would have lunch and give up on the run. Sunday would have to do.
As I sat on the couch after breakfast, the pouring rains turned into torrential sheets of rain. The kind that hurt just to look at.
And I thought - there is sometimes a very fine line between wimping out and being smart.
And then I thought - Céline, you are going to run 18k today or tomorrow. Either way, you are going to run 18k. I don't think there are too many people out there who would put the words 'running 18k' and 'wimp' in the same sentence.
So I pulled out my book, curled up on the couch, and enjoyed the sound of the rain on the windows.
And, at exactly 10:45am, the rain stopped. I jumped up, changed, checked my blood sugar (11.2), ate a banana and a gel and headed out. I felt like I was racing against the weather. The clouds kept changing from ominous and beautiful and I was rained on (lightly) several times. I galloped through 13k and then stopped for a quick BG check (9.2). I figured I would drop to about 5.0 by the end so I didn't eat anything. I finished 18k feeling stronger than usual and in world record time (1:52:07). My blood sugar was 5.2. Doesn't get any more predictable than that.
Predictability despite not knowing when or if I was going to run. Predictability despite not setting a temp basal because I didn't know if I was going to run. Predictability despite running at 11am which I have never done. I mean ever. Diabetes - you are one crazy rabbit. You don't like doing what you're told despite working hard to meet your every whim. And yet, when I throw your entire schedule out of whack, you sit quietly on the sidelines and give me a fabulous run.
I will never figure you out.
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