When it comes to running, why are easy weeks so hard?
I think it's the name actually. I think if easy weeks were called 'tough short weeks', they'd be easier.
Last week was an easy week for me. That means 30 minute runs during the week and a 10k run on Saturday.
After running 7-9k runs the week before with a 16k long run on Saturday, the easy week was looking pretty darn attractive.
It never fails - I'm fooled every time into thinking that 10k run is going to fly by and I'll be home and feeling fabulous in no time.
Instead of a quick, easy, 10k, I ended up having to cut the run short, only did 9k and it still took me about 75 minutes.
Why??
Because of a whole pile of reasons:
a) I didn't bring any water with me. Why?? Because I was only doing 10k. Turns out that, while it was only 21 degrees, it was almost 100% humidity so I was dripping wet in minutes and feeling dehydrated by 4k.
b) my ears plugged up. They haven't done that in weeks and weeks. Even on the longer runs. And yet, at 7k I had to stop running because I couldn't hear anything and my breath was coming in gasps. So I walked and ran and walked and ran, no longer caring about pace or time, just wanting to get home to a big cold glass of water.
c) because, despite 2 dates and a handful of raisins, my blood sugar refused to climb above 5.0 which meant I was stalking Rose like a hawk to make sure I didn't start dropping and which meant I had to eat a package of fruit chews at 8k because I wouldn't have made it home otherwise.
I got home and was of two minds about the whole thing. First, I was glad that I tanked on a 10k run that didn't really count as much as, say, an 18k mileage builder does. But I was also annoyed that, once again, I was lulled into thinking that easy means easy. It doesn't. I just means a different kind of hard.
Showing posts with label heat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heat. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Heat + Insulin = ??
I mentioned in my Gravenhurst race recap post on Monday that my blood sugars in the wee hours before the race were pretty horrific - hovering above 13 for hours and hours.
I changed my pump and popped in some fresh insulin and everything seemed to return to normal.
On Tuesday, we drove home from Gravenhurst after breakfast. I was feeling pretty rotten in the car so I checked my blood sugar. It was 20.4. Bah! I bolused and rechecked an hour later. 17.5. I repeated this cycle for a few hours and drank three huge bottles of water. I got it down to 10, took a double bolus for a protein bar because I was starving, ate it, and spiked again.
We got home, unpacked, did groceries and laundry and I fought to bring my blood sugar back under control again.
Then it dawned on me. We had spent most of Monday outside. In the shade and on a boat with the wind whipping by but still outside. It was 35 degrees.
Did I cook my insulin?
Sick on feeling high, I changed my site and my insulin for the second time in three days. We had dinner and I settled nicely down to a more normal number.
There are lots of other logical reasons for my pre-race high (jitters being a big one). There are also other possible explanations for my Tuesday high. I hadn't exercised in three days. I was probably a little dehydrated after the day before.
Or both days of highs could have been caused from the heat wave we were in the middle of. Did I cook my insulin twice in four days simply by being outside?
The thing is that my insulin rarely, ever, does that. Even when I've done 2-3 training runs in the heat of summer, the insulin remained effective.
What's the difference this time?
I haven't changed the type of insulin I use but I have changed my pump.
Could different pumps be insulated differently? Do different pumps react differently to heat? It is the reservoir? Do they react differently in the heat?
I don't know but I will definitely be more vigilant as this heat wave continues. It's turned into a pretty expensive diabetes supply week.
I changed my pump and popped in some fresh insulin and everything seemed to return to normal.
On Tuesday, we drove home from Gravenhurst after breakfast. I was feeling pretty rotten in the car so I checked my blood sugar. It was 20.4. Bah! I bolused and rechecked an hour later. 17.5. I repeated this cycle for a few hours and drank three huge bottles of water. I got it down to 10, took a double bolus for a protein bar because I was starving, ate it, and spiked again.
We got home, unpacked, did groceries and laundry and I fought to bring my blood sugar back under control again.
Then it dawned on me. We had spent most of Monday outside. In the shade and on a boat with the wind whipping by but still outside. It was 35 degrees.
Did I cook my insulin?
Sick on feeling high, I changed my site and my insulin for the second time in three days. We had dinner and I settled nicely down to a more normal number.
There are lots of other logical reasons for my pre-race high (jitters being a big one). There are also other possible explanations for my Tuesday high. I hadn't exercised in three days. I was probably a little dehydrated after the day before.
Or both days of highs could have been caused from the heat wave we were in the middle of. Did I cook my insulin twice in four days simply by being outside?
The thing is that my insulin rarely, ever, does that. Even when I've done 2-3 training runs in the heat of summer, the insulin remained effective.
What's the difference this time?
I haven't changed the type of insulin I use but I have changed my pump.
Could different pumps be insulated differently? Do different pumps react differently to heat? It is the reservoir? Do they react differently in the heat?
I don't know but I will definitely be more vigilant as this heat wave continues. It's turned into a pretty expensive diabetes supply week.
Monday, July 15, 2013
Gravenhurst Olympic Triathlon - Race Recap
The other title to this post is: Diabetes Perfection.
It didn't start out that way. The night before the race, after driving to Gravenhurst, checking out the race route and having a pre-race pasta dinner overlooking Muskoka Bay, we went to bed. I woke up two hours later to a blood sugar of 13.3. I bolused and chugged water. Two hours later I was 17.4. I sighed, bolused more aggressively and drank more water. Two hours later I was 14.0. Same routine. At 5:30am, when my alarm went off, I was 9.0, dehydrated, exhausted and unsure what to do. There was no time for fiddling. I removed a one-day old infusion site and tossed out an almost full insulin reservoir. I was not taking any chances.
Fresh insulin and a fresh site, I started up my race day basal profile, drank a LOT of water and had my granola/yogurt/banana breakfast.
Being tired and emotionally spent after a night of fighting highs, we headed to the race with me feeling resigned rather than nervous. Which probably ended up being a very good thing.
I racked my bike, set up my transition area and listened to the very extensive pre-race instructions. There are a few more things to think about apparently when you take an old steamship to the start of the swim.
It didn't start out that way. The night before the race, after driving to Gravenhurst, checking out the race route and having a pre-race pasta dinner overlooking Muskoka Bay, we went to bed. I woke up two hours later to a blood sugar of 13.3. I bolused and chugged water. Two hours later I was 17.4. I sighed, bolused more aggressively and drank more water. Two hours later I was 14.0. Same routine. At 5:30am, when my alarm went off, I was 9.0, dehydrated, exhausted and unsure what to do. There was no time for fiddling. I removed a one-day old infusion site and tossed out an almost full insulin reservoir. I was not taking any chances.
Fresh insulin and a fresh site, I started up my race day basal profile, drank a LOT of water and had my granola/yogurt/banana breakfast.
Being tired and emotionally spent after a night of fighting highs, we headed to the race with me feeling resigned rather than nervous. Which probably ended up being a very good thing.
I racked my bike, set up my transition area and listened to the very extensive pre-race instructions. There are a few more things to think about apparently when you take an old steamship to the start of the swim.
The famous Jason Vurma giving us our pre-race instructions.
Down at the docks ready to board the steamship
I was feeling pretty calm about the whole thing but watching my blood sugar like a hawk. I was worried about the heat and knew that my blood sugar climbs when I compete in these types of temperates. I also didn't have time to make sure the new site was working and just had to hope for the best. Three checks, thirty minutes apart showed 7.1, 7.0, 6.7. Looks like the basal profile was holding up well so far. I had a box of raisins before heading on to the ship.
Leaving the dock and heading out to the starting buoys.
A lot of the ladies in my wave were pretty nervous about the 6 foot jump off the ship. I ate my pre-race gel, gripped my goggles in one hand, and was one of the first off the ship. I wanted to get away from the nervous energy. I treaded water waiting for the start.
The two steamships unloading their swimmer cargo.
We had to swim left for 400m (past the island you see) and then swim 1100m straight to shore.
The swim was awesome. I felt good the entire way and I swam a strong but not crazy pace. I finished the 1500m swim and the run to the transition zone in 32:59.
I wouldn't normally check my blood sugar between the swim and the bike but, I was worried, so I did. I was 6.3. So far so good Mr. Basal Profile. That meant my plan was working and I could have a gel on the bike.
Heading out for the 40k ride. Most of the route was quite hilly (rollers as they were described) which meant I worked hard on the ups but got breaks on the downs. My pace was slower overall but it felt easier because of the downs.
Coming in from the ride. I still felt really good which surprised me. I haven't ridden 40k at all this year and I had already swum first. I didn't expect this feeling good thing to last much longer. I finished the bike in 1:36:10.
I checked my BG again in the transition zone. It was 7.0. Unbelievable! My plan was still working and I got to have my pre-run gel. I have never had such stellar and stable numbers in an event and never been able to eat what I wanted when I wanted.
The run was hot and there was almost no shade for the entire 10k. It was also hilly for most of the course with a few short flat sections. I didn't know what to expect but I told myself to run easy rather than hard and try not to walk unless it's a water station. I managed to do that for the first 5k and, for the first time in my running career, I passed more people than passed me.
The 5k run back was harder and I was really overheating. I took more walk breaks but, 2k from the finish, a girl in my age category passed me. Normally, I wouldn't care but this time I did. I chased her, and passed her, on the last hill. She chased back, I could hear her behind me, but then she gave up. I ran the next kilometre at a good clip but, 500m from the finish, she sprinted past me. I gave chase but had no speeds left other than the one I was running.
But I ran those last 2k really fast and finished so proud of myself. I had expected a tough tough race. I didn't expect to feel good from start to finish. I finished the 10k in 1:10:40 instead of the 1:15 that I had hoped to do.
My final blood sugar check?
5.6
I enjoyed a post-race chocolate milk. After a well-deserved shower, we had a huge lunch. A big dinner. A chocolate bar.
My blood sugar never spiked and I didn't have one post-race low.
I think that's what made the difference. I ran a race with perfect blood sugars. I ate when I wanted. I drank what I wanted. My energy stayed high the entire time. I was an athlete like everyone else out there.
It was nice.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Tel Aviv Half Marathon
Hi folks! Sorry for the blogging hiatus. It was completely out of character for me but I was traveling all over Israel for two weeks and didn't want to take time away from our adventures to blog. So I took a Running on Carbs holiday.
I am back now and feeling a little jet-lagged and travel-weary but otherwise happy to be home and yet sad to have left such a wonderful country.
You might remember that one of the reasons I went to Israel was to run the Tel Aviv half marathon. I trained for it during a rather cold and relentlessly windy Canadian winter. I was a little worried about training in the cold and running in the heat but I took comfort in the fact that March in Tel Aviv is typically a comfortable time with temperatures in the 20s (celsius aka 68 fahrenheit).
As the date of my departure approached, I began looking at the long-term weather forecast so I could have an idea of the clothes I needed to pack. The days leading up to the race were exactly what they were supposed to be - low 20s and sunny. Perfect.
As the race got closer though, the temperature started to climb.
They predicted 30C. Then 32C. Then 38C (100F).
Three days before I arrived, I received an email saying that my race time had been moved 30 minutes earlier (from 7:45am to 7:15am). The day I arrived, I learned that it had been moved to 6am.
At the race expo, I learned that they had postponed the marathon to the following weekend.
I began to feel very afraid. If the Israelis are worried enough about the heat to postpone an international marathon, was I crazy for wanting to run the half? I also felt the same horror I felt at the New York marathon last fall when I heard it was cancelled. People travelled or were in the process of traveling from all over the world to run in Tel Aviv. They had trained for months and months to run Tel Aviv. Now it was the following weekend? Would people even be able to stay that long? How many hearts were broken with that announcement? And yet I also agreed that it probably made sense given the circumstances.
On race day, we were up at 4am. I was as hydrated as I had ever been after taking extra steps the previous two days to drink water and electrolytes. By 5am, it was heating up. By 6am, it was hot. I had opted NOT to bring my water belt for the race. The organizers talked about how much water would be available and I didn't want to have to carry any more weight than necessary. I had my little race belt with my glucometer, gels, edisks and salt tablets. I wore shoes, shorts, a t-shirt and a hat. C'est tout.
Right from the start, I kept my pace controlled at about 6:30min/k. Not superfast but I wanted to survive this run, not collapse from heat stroke. There were water stations every 3 kilometres and you could have the regular cup of water or an entire bottle. I grabbed two cups and drank each of them - at every station. I fell into a routine pretty quickly. Start off feeling good, run for about 1.5k, start to feel dehydrated. keep running to the next water station by which point my lips were dry and my throat was parched. Drink two large glasses of water, feel much better, repeat cycle.
I have never had that much water in a race before. I had over 15 cups of water. Normally, that amount in such a short period would put me at severe risk of overhydration but not that day. I also had two edisks and a salt tablet every 30 minutes.
I ran a pretty good race until about 17k. By that point it was 8am, about 35C and sunny. I began to overheat and started to walk/run. The walk periods got longer and the run periods got shorter but I felt that it was just too dangerous out there to overheat. I walked until I cooled down enough to run and stopped running when I felt my temperature get too high. I started to see people collapsed on benches and on the street with emergency response personnel helping them. I saw runners with IVs lying on sidewalks. I heard sirens constantly. I walked, I ran, I drank. I focused on how I was feeling and how much further I had to go and tried to ignore all the craziness going on around me.
I ran the last kilometre to the finish line and had to dodge two runners near the finish who had collapsed and were getting emergency assistance in the middle of the street. I crossed the finish line in just under 2 1/2 hours. My usual time is about 2:18:00 so that was pretty good all things considered.
My blood sugar, which had been very well behaved the first three days of my trip, spiked at the start of the run and stayed very high (around 14) for most of the race. I took insulin three times during the race (unheard of) to try to bring it down but I think I was just too hot and dehydrated for it to be very effective. After lunch, a nap, a shower and a site change, things were back to normal by dinner.
50 people were taken to the hospital with heatstroke during the half marathon.
1 person died. He was a fit, special ops army personnel who lives in Israel. They believe he underestimated the heat.
I am glad I ran and proud of how it went. I was impressed at how much water support was en route and at the finish line. I was impressed at how many support people were on the course. I was humbled by the heat and completely understand how it can be absolutely deadly if you don't take care.
The temperature dropped back down the very next day and I spent most of the next two weeks in pants and a jacket. It spiked again exactly one week later - on the day that the marathon had been postponed to. It was again predicted to be over 30C. The media had been slaughtering the race organizers for allowing the half to go on and having so many people brought to hospital and one person dying.
So, two days before the rescheduled marathon was supposed to take place, they cancelled it.
I understand and yet feel awful for everyone involved.
I am glad I ran. I would do it again. I feel like I took part in a particularly memorable race. And I was relieved when it was over and I could spent the next two weeks just enjoying my holiday.
I am back now and feeling a little jet-lagged and travel-weary but otherwise happy to be home and yet sad to have left such a wonderful country.
You might remember that one of the reasons I went to Israel was to run the Tel Aviv half marathon. I trained for it during a rather cold and relentlessly windy Canadian winter. I was a little worried about training in the cold and running in the heat but I took comfort in the fact that March in Tel Aviv is typically a comfortable time with temperatures in the 20s (celsius aka 68 fahrenheit).
As the date of my departure approached, I began looking at the long-term weather forecast so I could have an idea of the clothes I needed to pack. The days leading up to the race were exactly what they were supposed to be - low 20s and sunny. Perfect.
As the race got closer though, the temperature started to climb.
They predicted 30C. Then 32C. Then 38C (100F).
Three days before I arrived, I received an email saying that my race time had been moved 30 minutes earlier (from 7:45am to 7:15am). The day I arrived, I learned that it had been moved to 6am.
At the race expo, I learned that they had postponed the marathon to the following weekend.
I began to feel very afraid. If the Israelis are worried enough about the heat to postpone an international marathon, was I crazy for wanting to run the half? I also felt the same horror I felt at the New York marathon last fall when I heard it was cancelled. People travelled or were in the process of traveling from all over the world to run in Tel Aviv. They had trained for months and months to run Tel Aviv. Now it was the following weekend? Would people even be able to stay that long? How many hearts were broken with that announcement? And yet I also agreed that it probably made sense given the circumstances.
On race day, we were up at 4am. I was as hydrated as I had ever been after taking extra steps the previous two days to drink water and electrolytes. By 5am, it was heating up. By 6am, it was hot. I had opted NOT to bring my water belt for the race. The organizers talked about how much water would be available and I didn't want to have to carry any more weight than necessary. I had my little race belt with my glucometer, gels, edisks and salt tablets. I wore shoes, shorts, a t-shirt and a hat. C'est tout.
Right from the start, I kept my pace controlled at about 6:30min/k. Not superfast but I wanted to survive this run, not collapse from heat stroke. There were water stations every 3 kilometres and you could have the regular cup of water or an entire bottle. I grabbed two cups and drank each of them - at every station. I fell into a routine pretty quickly. Start off feeling good, run for about 1.5k, start to feel dehydrated. keep running to the next water station by which point my lips were dry and my throat was parched. Drink two large glasses of water, feel much better, repeat cycle.
I have never had that much water in a race before. I had over 15 cups of water. Normally, that amount in such a short period would put me at severe risk of overhydration but not that day. I also had two edisks and a salt tablet every 30 minutes.
I ran a pretty good race until about 17k. By that point it was 8am, about 35C and sunny. I began to overheat and started to walk/run. The walk periods got longer and the run periods got shorter but I felt that it was just too dangerous out there to overheat. I walked until I cooled down enough to run and stopped running when I felt my temperature get too high. I started to see people collapsed on benches and on the street with emergency response personnel helping them. I saw runners with IVs lying on sidewalks. I heard sirens constantly. I walked, I ran, I drank. I focused on how I was feeling and how much further I had to go and tried to ignore all the craziness going on around me.
I ran the last kilometre to the finish line and had to dodge two runners near the finish who had collapsed and were getting emergency assistance in the middle of the street. I crossed the finish line in just under 2 1/2 hours. My usual time is about 2:18:00 so that was pretty good all things considered.
My blood sugar, which had been very well behaved the first three days of my trip, spiked at the start of the run and stayed very high (around 14) for most of the race. I took insulin three times during the race (unheard of) to try to bring it down but I think I was just too hot and dehydrated for it to be very effective. After lunch, a nap, a shower and a site change, things were back to normal by dinner.
50 people were taken to the hospital with heatstroke during the half marathon.
1 person died. He was a fit, special ops army personnel who lives in Israel. They believe he underestimated the heat.
I am glad I ran and proud of how it went. I was impressed at how much water support was en route and at the finish line. I was impressed at how many support people were on the course. I was humbled by the heat and completely understand how it can be absolutely deadly if you don't take care.
The temperature dropped back down the very next day and I spent most of the next two weeks in pants and a jacket. It spiked again exactly one week later - on the day that the marathon had been postponed to. It was again predicted to be over 30C. The media had been slaughtering the race organizers for allowing the half to go on and having so many people brought to hospital and one person dying.
So, two days before the rescheduled marathon was supposed to take place, they cancelled it.
I understand and yet feel awful for everyone involved.
I am glad I ran. I would do it again. I feel like I took part in a particularly memorable race. And I was relieved when it was over and I could spent the next two weeks just enjoying my holiday.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
No Longer a Choice
In the fall, winter and spring - running in the morning before work is a treat. First thing in the morning is my favourite time to run. The world is quiet, the streets have more rabbits on them than people and it's just a really wonderful way to start the day.
In the fall, winter and spring, I only run before work when I'm not feeling overly tired. I already get up three mornings a week at 5:30am to swim so doing it an extra time or two can get to be a little much. But, if I eat well, go to bed at a good time and sleep soundly - my treat is an early morning run.
We have now entered the time of the year when early morning runs are no longer a luxury. They are a necessity.
Southern Ontario summers are hot and humid. Breathing through cotton, sweat running down your legs and dripping off the end of your ponytail humid. At the moment, we are in the middle of an official heat wave and the temperature as I write this is 30 degrees Celsius and it feels like 38. The humidity is 62% making it a very dangerous temperature for running.
Some people love to run in the heat. Some people love to lounge in the sun. Some people wait all year for this kind of temperature. I am NOT one of these people (although I do live with one). I was made for East Coast weather. Irish weather. Cold, foggy, windy, wild, changing weather. So, during the Canadian summer, if I want to run, I run before work.
It doesn't matter if I'm exhausted. It doesn't matter if I was up all night with crazy blood sugars or bad dreams. It doesn't matter if I have 13k to run and need to be out the door by 5am. The only thing that matters is that, no matter how bad I feel at 5:30am, I will feel 100 times worse if I wait until after work to run.
Yesterday morning, I set my alarm for 5:30am. I only had 30 minutes to run so it wasn't too ridiculous of a time to get up. We woke up to a temperature that was already 23 degrees and very humid. On top of that there was a really strong wind that sucked whatever breath you did have left as you tried to breathe through the humidity.
I hit the road before 6 and noticed something different almost immediately.
I was not the only one out there. Not by a long shot. And it wasn't rabbits that were keeping me company.
Humans were everywhere. And they were running.
As I ran through the neighbourhoods I counted twenty runners. All were weaving up and down the streets. North south, east west.
Any aliens passing overhead must have looked down and wondered what everyone was doing. Back and forth, up and down, in a weird and wonderfully arbitrary pattern.
I ran into (well not literally) my friend Barb on the way back. We stopped to chat for a moment, both of us dripping wet and gasping. And grateful that we ran as early as we did.
I was home and on the deck stretching by 6:30am. I was overheated but felt great. Not only great but grateful that I knew enough to get up early.
During the fall, winter and spring - running in the morning is glorious.
During the summer - running in the morning is all about getting'er done.
In the fall, winter and spring, I only run before work when I'm not feeling overly tired. I already get up three mornings a week at 5:30am to swim so doing it an extra time or two can get to be a little much. But, if I eat well, go to bed at a good time and sleep soundly - my treat is an early morning run.
We have now entered the time of the year when early morning runs are no longer a luxury. They are a necessity.
Southern Ontario summers are hot and humid. Breathing through cotton, sweat running down your legs and dripping off the end of your ponytail humid. At the moment, we are in the middle of an official heat wave and the temperature as I write this is 30 degrees Celsius and it feels like 38. The humidity is 62% making it a very dangerous temperature for running.
Some people love to run in the heat. Some people love to lounge in the sun. Some people wait all year for this kind of temperature. I am NOT one of these people (although I do live with one). I was made for East Coast weather. Irish weather. Cold, foggy, windy, wild, changing weather. So, during the Canadian summer, if I want to run, I run before work.
It doesn't matter if I'm exhausted. It doesn't matter if I was up all night with crazy blood sugars or bad dreams. It doesn't matter if I have 13k to run and need to be out the door by 5am. The only thing that matters is that, no matter how bad I feel at 5:30am, I will feel 100 times worse if I wait until after work to run.
Yesterday morning, I set my alarm for 5:30am. I only had 30 minutes to run so it wasn't too ridiculous of a time to get up. We woke up to a temperature that was already 23 degrees and very humid. On top of that there was a really strong wind that sucked whatever breath you did have left as you tried to breathe through the humidity.
I hit the road before 6 and noticed something different almost immediately.
I was not the only one out there. Not by a long shot. And it wasn't rabbits that were keeping me company.
Humans were everywhere. And they were running.
As I ran through the neighbourhoods I counted twenty runners. All were weaving up and down the streets. North south, east west.
Any aliens passing overhead must have looked down and wondered what everyone was doing. Back and forth, up and down, in a weird and wonderfully arbitrary pattern.
I ran into (well not literally) my friend Barb on the way back. We stopped to chat for a moment, both of us dripping wet and gasping. And grateful that we ran as early as we did.
I was home and on the deck stretching by 6:30am. I was overheated but felt great. Not only great but grateful that I knew enough to get up early.
During the fall, winter and spring - running in the morning is glorious.
During the summer - running in the morning is all about getting'er done.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Crash!
There are several terms for it but I do believe that this picture sums it up beautifully.
What did I think of the salt tablets? I'm not sure yet. I definitely did not sweat as much as I normally do but I did sweat which is good. If I hadn't, that would have scared me. My fingers did not swell at all despite the heat which is a first - that impressed me. I was thirsty during the run and afterwards but not as much as I normally am.
But, because the run was a dud, it's hard to know why. So I'll try them again but not during my 28k run this Friday. Just in case...
I'm not exactly sure if that's what happened yesterday but it may well have been.
I ran after work for the first time in a month. I have been doing the early morning thing but the 5am wake up calls were taking their toll It's been hot in the mornings, let's not kid ourselves, but nowhere near at hot and humid as it is at 5pm. I had 13k to run.
So I ran at an unfamiliar time and it was really really hot.
There is one other variable to add to this mix. I'm not sure if it helped or made things worse.
Yesterday, I tried a salt tablet experiment. I was told by several very experienced runners that salt tablets help with dehydration, electrolyte balance and swelling. Someone like me who is a heavy sweater could definitely benefit.
So I figured I'd try them and figured a weekday 13k run was a better time to try them out than a 28k long run. You know, just in case...
I took one before heading out the door. I did not take my usual edisk.
Fifteen minutes later, I was sweating but not nearly as much as I usually would be by that time. Even crazier was that, when I squeezed my hands, my fingers weren't swollen. At. All.
So, as directed, I had my second one at 30 minutes.
By that time, I was keeping up my pace but really wilting in the heat. I was drinking as much as I normally do but I felt weaker than I thought I should. I took a third one (as directed) at 8k.
Feeling weaker by the minute, I stopped and walked. I hate when I do that and it's been weeks since I've had to. I cooled off a bit and resumed. Weakness took over again.
Could it be my blood sugar? I ate a package of fruit chews, walked for another minute and started up again.
Damn it!
The last four kilometers were rough. I made it but, if anyone I know had driven by, I would have hopped in their car without a second thought.
I don't know what happened.
Option One - I am no longer used to that kind of heat and it did me in.
Option Two - I don't do well with salt tablets.
Option Three - my blood sugar was 6.0 when I got home so it was probably on the low side by the time I ate those carbs.
Option Four - I hit the proverbial wall.
The good news is that I was not too bothered by the whole experience. I did not question my running ability. I did not wonder whether I have the strength to run a marathon.
I just chalked it up to a bad run and was grateful that it happened on a Tuesday night rather than a long run.
What did I think of the salt tablets? I'm not sure yet. I definitely did not sweat as much as I normally do but I did sweat which is good. If I hadn't, that would have scared me. My fingers did not swell at all despite the heat which is a first - that impressed me. I was thirsty during the run and afterwards but not as much as I normally am.
But, because the run was a dud, it's hard to know why. So I'll try them again but not during my 28k run this Friday. Just in case...
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Full Speed Ahead
Week seven starts today.
We've upped the ante again and now Tuesday runs are 13k instead of 10. They stay at 13k from now until the week before the race (except for easy weeks of course). We are now officially full speed ahead - all engines at full throttle. We've maxed out Tuesday nights, Thursdays are already in full swing with hills and intervals and Saturdays are just getting longer every week.
When I was training for my first half marathon, my body got more and more tired every week. By the time race day arrived, I was so worn out that I couldn't wait to run the race just so I could have a few weeks off running.
That's what I expected marathon training to be like. Eighteen weeks of progressive exhaustion. So far though, I'm holding up quite well. My body is getting better at the long runs and I don't even start thinking about how many kilometres are left until I get to about 15k. That's a huge improvement from not so long ago when I would start counting from the first step out the door. I think that running four days a week has made a huge difference - my body is so much more used to running now that it bounces back more quickly and is ready to go again by the next day.
The biggest challenge these days is deciding whether to get up at 5am to run before work or brave the heat after work. Both options wear me out for different reasons. Today, I did not get up before work because we got home very late last night from a lovely dinner party. I knew that sleeping in would be a better option - plus I would have all day today to hydrate for the run since I neglected to do that very well last night. Wine, apparently, does not count.
So I'm braving the heat this afternoon.
I have my coffee, my eload and my water ready to go. I will be obsessively checking the humidex all day and working on my game plan. For runs like this - where it's hot and tempting to throw in the towel - I do a circular route rather than an out and back. It keeps me moving forward and I am less inclined to argue with myself about turning back early.
It's all about learning how to work with and, when necessary, push your body. Run circular routes when it's tempting to quit. Get up early so hard interval workouts seem easier because it's 'only' 30 degrees out. Tell people what you have to run so that you're accountable. Whatever it takes to get'er done.
Happy August everyone. Here's to fresh Niagara peaches and delicious corn on the cob, cooler evenings, a week's vacation, family and friends...and lots of time spent outside exploring this fabulous country of ours.
Slainte!
We've upped the ante again and now Tuesday runs are 13k instead of 10. They stay at 13k from now until the week before the race (except for easy weeks of course). We are now officially full speed ahead - all engines at full throttle. We've maxed out Tuesday nights, Thursdays are already in full swing with hills and intervals and Saturdays are just getting longer every week.
When I was training for my first half marathon, my body got more and more tired every week. By the time race day arrived, I was so worn out that I couldn't wait to run the race just so I could have a few weeks off running.
That's what I expected marathon training to be like. Eighteen weeks of progressive exhaustion. So far though, I'm holding up quite well. My body is getting better at the long runs and I don't even start thinking about how many kilometres are left until I get to about 15k. That's a huge improvement from not so long ago when I would start counting from the first step out the door. I think that running four days a week has made a huge difference - my body is so much more used to running now that it bounces back more quickly and is ready to go again by the next day.
The biggest challenge these days is deciding whether to get up at 5am to run before work or brave the heat after work. Both options wear me out for different reasons. Today, I did not get up before work because we got home very late last night from a lovely dinner party. I knew that sleeping in would be a better option - plus I would have all day today to hydrate for the run since I neglected to do that very well last night. Wine, apparently, does not count.
So I'm braving the heat this afternoon.
I have my coffee, my eload and my water ready to go. I will be obsessively checking the humidex all day and working on my game plan. For runs like this - where it's hot and tempting to throw in the towel - I do a circular route rather than an out and back. It keeps me moving forward and I am less inclined to argue with myself about turning back early.
It's all about learning how to work with and, when necessary, push your body. Run circular routes when it's tempting to quit. Get up early so hard interval workouts seem easier because it's 'only' 30 degrees out. Tell people what you have to run so that you're accountable. Whatever it takes to get'er done.
Happy August everyone. Here's to fresh Niagara peaches and delicious corn on the cob, cooler evenings, a week's vacation, family and friends...and lots of time spent outside exploring this fabulous country of ours.
Slainte!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Humbled by Hydration
For me, blogging is about sharing stories, thoughts, adventures and lessons learned in an effort to entertain, enlighten and educate anyone out there who might be interested.
So, in order to save yourselves the trouble of going through this on your own, here are a few lessons learned from Saturday's run.
Saturday's 22k was looming and the hot humid weather that was hanging around all last week was not showing any signs of letting up. So I began my preparations on Thursday. I drank and drank and drank water in an effort to stay as hydrated as possible. On Friday, I alternated between drinking lots of water and sipping eload because I knew electrolyte balance was also going to be a factor.
A few of us who decided to start the run at 6am rather than 7 in an effort to beat the heat.
I went to bed early and slept well.
So far, so good. I couldn't think of anything else I could do to prepare. On a whim, I stepped on the scale before breakfast to check my pre-run weight. 167.0 pounds.
On Saturday morning, I went out with three water bottles on my belt instead of two. I also brought 10 eload tablets with me, in addition to my regular diabetes paraphernalia. My belt was really heavy but I didn't want to be caught out there unprepared.
It was hot when we started but not awful.
I drank water regularly. We had two fabulous support people en the route (Chris and Marge) who seemed to show up exactly when I needed them with ice cold water and a sympathetic smile. I refilled my bottles often and, by the end of the run had finished at least nine of them (I lost count). I also had 6 etabs.
The run was hot and humid. Thank goodness we went out early. The first hour was ok, the second hour was really heating up and, by the last five k, I was done. It was a slow crawl back to the store but I finished the run feeling pretty good - just really really hot.
22k in 2 hours and 30 minutes.
I finished the run completely soaked. Much more so than usual. My clothes were dripping wet and I actually wrung them out before getting into the car. We headed home and, during my stretching routine, I drank a can of coconut water, a large glass of chocolate milk and a large glass of water.
An hour later, I was ready to shower. That's when it occurred to me that I had taken in a huge amount of water and other beverages and yet I had absolutely no need to pee. Nothing.
I stepped on the scale. 164 pounds.
I lost three pounds during my run - even though I had had a full breakfast, drank non-stop during the run and had three large drinks when I got home.
I was starting to feel like this...
I had two more glasses of water, hopped in the shower and then drank some more.
Folks, the first time I peed was around 3pm. It looked like apple juice.
Thankfully, by Sunday morning, my weight was back to normal as was the colour of my urine. But it took hours of drinking to get it there.
I spoke with Chris and Janice - two running friends and marathon veterans. I explained my problem. They suggested salt tablets. Apparently, salt tablets help with hydration, they help keep all your electrolytes balanced and Chris, a kindred spirit in the sweaty runner department, said that they make a huge difference for him in this kind of weather.
Anyone out there tried salt tablets? Any thoughts?
And more importantly, any suggestions for how to stay hydrated in this heat? I thought I was doing well but apparently still have a lot to learn.
So, in order to save yourselves the trouble of going through this on your own, here are a few lessons learned from Saturday's run.
Saturday's 22k was looming and the hot humid weather that was hanging around all last week was not showing any signs of letting up. So I began my preparations on Thursday. I drank and drank and drank water in an effort to stay as hydrated as possible. On Friday, I alternated between drinking lots of water and sipping eload because I knew electrolyte balance was also going to be a factor.
A few of us who decided to start the run at 6am rather than 7 in an effort to beat the heat.
I went to bed early and slept well.
So far, so good. I couldn't think of anything else I could do to prepare. On a whim, I stepped on the scale before breakfast to check my pre-run weight. 167.0 pounds.
On Saturday morning, I went out with three water bottles on my belt instead of two. I also brought 10 eload tablets with me, in addition to my regular diabetes paraphernalia. My belt was really heavy but I didn't want to be caught out there unprepared.
It was hot when we started but not awful.
I drank water regularly. We had two fabulous support people en the route (Chris and Marge) who seemed to show up exactly when I needed them with ice cold water and a sympathetic smile. I refilled my bottles often and, by the end of the run had finished at least nine of them (I lost count). I also had 6 etabs.
The run was hot and humid. Thank goodness we went out early. The first hour was ok, the second hour was really heating up and, by the last five k, I was done. It was a slow crawl back to the store but I finished the run feeling pretty good - just really really hot.
22k in 2 hours and 30 minutes.
I finished the run completely soaked. Much more so than usual. My clothes were dripping wet and I actually wrung them out before getting into the car. We headed home and, during my stretching routine, I drank a can of coconut water, a large glass of chocolate milk and a large glass of water.
An hour later, I was ready to shower. That's when it occurred to me that I had taken in a huge amount of water and other beverages and yet I had absolutely no need to pee. Nothing.
I stepped on the scale. 164 pounds.
I lost three pounds during my run - even though I had had a full breakfast, drank non-stop during the run and had three large drinks when I got home.
I was starting to feel like this...
I had two more glasses of water, hopped in the shower and then drank some more.
Folks, the first time I peed was around 3pm. It looked like apple juice.
Thankfully, by Sunday morning, my weight was back to normal as was the colour of my urine. But it took hours of drinking to get it there.
I spoke with Chris and Janice - two running friends and marathon veterans. I explained my problem. They suggested salt tablets. Apparently, salt tablets help with hydration, they help keep all your electrolytes balanced and Chris, a kindred spirit in the sweaty runner department, said that they make a huge difference for him in this kind of weather.
Anyone out there tried salt tablets? Any thoughts?
And more importantly, any suggestions for how to stay hydrated in this heat? I thought I was doing well but apparently still have a lot to learn.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
To Hell and Back
Day three of the heat wave from hell.
Up at 5 - ready to head out the door at 5:30am. The Weather Network said that it was already 27 degrees out and that it felt like 35 with the humidity.
I opened the door and walked into a shimmering, vibrating wall of heat. Bloody hell.
There was no sign of the sun yet although the sky was already bright. Today was not the day to enjoy a peaceful run. It was a day to plug in the music and finish the hill training as quickly as possible. I was not racing to beat my time - I was racing to beat the sun.
I trotted over to Rodman hill and down to the bottom to start the telephone pole routine. Run up the hill for a distance of three telephone poles. Run back down. Run up for four telephone poles. Run back down. Up for five. Six. Repeat until dead.
I stopped after every second climb for some water. It was sweltering. There were no birds. No signing coming from the trees. No squirrels. I felt like I was running in the twilight zone.
At the eighth telephone pole, I turned around and saw the sun. A huge, red orb climbing up through the trees.
"Omigod! Run for your life" are the exact words that erupted in my head at the sight of it.
My response was so visceral that I might as well have turned around and come face to face with a T.Rex.
Well, maybe not quite as bad as ol' Rexy but I felt a deep down fear that kept my legs moving despite the struggle for air.
Two more climbs up and two more trots back down. Done! All I had to do was put on my now empty water belt and do one last climb up and out of the valley and back home again.
Scully, I took the other hill. The crazy steep one that almost killed us last time. I did it in your honour and made it to the top alive and still running. I missed you out there today.
Blood sugar report - I woke up at 7.8. No basal change. I had a gel but did not bolus for it. I finished the hills and was 9.1.
I think I'm getting the hang of these early morning runs.
Stay cool folks.
Up at 5 - ready to head out the door at 5:30am. The Weather Network said that it was already 27 degrees out and that it felt like 35 with the humidity.
I opened the door and walked into a shimmering, vibrating wall of heat. Bloody hell.
There was no sign of the sun yet although the sky was already bright. Today was not the day to enjoy a peaceful run. It was a day to plug in the music and finish the hill training as quickly as possible. I was not racing to beat my time - I was racing to beat the sun.
I trotted over to Rodman hill and down to the bottom to start the telephone pole routine. Run up the hill for a distance of three telephone poles. Run back down. Run up for four telephone poles. Run back down. Up for five. Six. Repeat until dead.
I stopped after every second climb for some water. It was sweltering. There were no birds. No signing coming from the trees. No squirrels. I felt like I was running in the twilight zone.
At the eighth telephone pole, I turned around and saw the sun. A huge, red orb climbing up through the trees.
"Omigod! Run for your life" are the exact words that erupted in my head at the sight of it.
My response was so visceral that I might as well have turned around and come face to face with a T.Rex.
Two more climbs up and two more trots back down. Done! All I had to do was put on my now empty water belt and do one last climb up and out of the valley and back home again.
Scully, I took the other hill. The crazy steep one that almost killed us last time. I did it in your honour and made it to the top alive and still running. I missed you out there today.
Blood sugar report - I woke up at 7.8. No basal change. I had a gel but did not bolus for it. I finished the hills and was 9.1.
I think I'm getting the hang of these early morning runs.
Stay cool folks.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
It's Pretty Dark...
...at 5am.
The sky is a rich, deep, dark blue. The moon, which was full last Friday, hangs suspended. There are no cars. No noise except the birds and the sound of my shoes hitting the pavement.
The heat and humidity are not yet ridiculous. They are, in fact, quite tolerable.
Why the hell didn't I do this weeks ago?
I have been running at 5pm - as soon as I got home from work. It has hardly dipped below 30 degrees (+ humidity) in weeks now and runs have not been pretty. I got them done but they were tough.
This morning, the thermostat read 23 degrees. Seventy percent humidity. After what we've been running in, that was almost chilly. In fact, when I turned into the wind on the way home, I found myself covered in goosebumps.
It was lovely and 10k went by almost too quickly. I wouldn't have minded doing a few more.
The biggest challenge this morning was what to do about eating and blood sugar management. Normally, I would have woken up an hour and a half before a run to change my basal rate and have breakfast. Today, that would have meant a 4am wake up call. Even I am not that crazy.
I decided to gamble a bit. I set the alarm for five, planning to be on the road by five-thirty. There would be no basal reduction this morning. I figured that it's all about having the right amount of insulin in my body. So, if I'm not going to reduce my basal, I'm going to drastically reduce my bolus to make up the difference.
I would never attempt this on a 20k run but my instincts told me that it would be ok for 10k. I trust my instincts. They have saved me countless times already.
So I got up and checked my blood sugar - it was 12.2. I had a low in the middle of the night and overcompensated a bit. I was high but not awful. My pump and I chatted. He told me that I should take 1.6 units to bring the 12.2 back down to a 5-6. Then I consulted my instinct. It told me to only take 0.6 units. So I did. It also told me to have a gel but no dates (I had planned on having two). So I had a gel...and I headed out the door.
I started off slowly, feeling the gel sloshing around in my empty stomach. There were a few minutes around kilometre two when I wondered if things might take a turn. I kept running and everything settled down. I found my groove and got a little faster with every kilometer.
I watched the moon disappear. I saw the sun rise. I learned that cardinals are very very active at 5:30am. Robins - not to much. I saw the world wake up.
I got back home around 6:40am and checked my blood sugar.
6.8
Perfect!
My instinct deserves 100% of the credit on this one.
Now the next trick will be to find a way to stay awake at work today.
The sky is a rich, deep, dark blue. The moon, which was full last Friday, hangs suspended. There are no cars. No noise except the birds and the sound of my shoes hitting the pavement.
The heat and humidity are not yet ridiculous. They are, in fact, quite tolerable.
Why the hell didn't I do this weeks ago?
I have been running at 5pm - as soon as I got home from work. It has hardly dipped below 30 degrees (+ humidity) in weeks now and runs have not been pretty. I got them done but they were tough.
This morning, the thermostat read 23 degrees. Seventy percent humidity. After what we've been running in, that was almost chilly. In fact, when I turned into the wind on the way home, I found myself covered in goosebumps.
It was lovely and 10k went by almost too quickly. I wouldn't have minded doing a few more.
The biggest challenge this morning was what to do about eating and blood sugar management. Normally, I would have woken up an hour and a half before a run to change my basal rate and have breakfast. Today, that would have meant a 4am wake up call. Even I am not that crazy.
I decided to gamble a bit. I set the alarm for five, planning to be on the road by five-thirty. There would be no basal reduction this morning. I figured that it's all about having the right amount of insulin in my body. So, if I'm not going to reduce my basal, I'm going to drastically reduce my bolus to make up the difference.
I would never attempt this on a 20k run but my instincts told me that it would be ok for 10k. I trust my instincts. They have saved me countless times already.
So I got up and checked my blood sugar - it was 12.2. I had a low in the middle of the night and overcompensated a bit. I was high but not awful. My pump and I chatted. He told me that I should take 1.6 units to bring the 12.2 back down to a 5-6. Then I consulted my instinct. It told me to only take 0.6 units. So I did. It also told me to have a gel but no dates (I had planned on having two). So I had a gel...and I headed out the door.
I started off slowly, feeling the gel sloshing around in my empty stomach. There were a few minutes around kilometre two when I wondered if things might take a turn. I kept running and everything settled down. I found my groove and got a little faster with every kilometer.
I watched the moon disappear. I saw the sun rise. I learned that cardinals are very very active at 5:30am. Robins - not to much. I saw the world wake up.
I got back home around 6:40am and checked my blood sugar.
6.8
Perfect!
My instinct deserves 100% of the credit on this one.
Now the next trick will be to find a way to stay awake at work today.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
A Rogue Run
Anyone out there an X-Men fan? I am. Big time.
I watched the cartoon as a kid, read the comics as a young adult and have seen every movie released. I just think the premise of the story is so cool. Regular folks like you or I who suddenly discover that their body has mutated and they have some crazy new ability. They can control the weather, change their appearance, read minds, heal themselves or shoot laser beams out of their eyes.
I studied evolution in school. It was one of my favourite subjects. What I learned was that individuals don’t evolve, species do. I will not wake up one day with gills, wings or the ability to climb walls. But, over thousands of years, humans slowly change and adapt to their environment. If having gills will help us survive, we may evolve them. But not in my lifetime.
So X-Men is not based on sound science, but it is pretty cool.
Last night’s run got me thinking about the X-Men. You see, a running friend of mine, Brian, describes a great run as a Superman run. I like that. It works and I can immediately picture how well the run went. I like Superman, he’s a cool character with neat abilities. But I don’t gravitate to him the way I do the X-Men. So I’m stealing the idea of a Superman run and calling my great runs Rogue runs.
Rogue is, in my opinion, the coolest of the X-Men.
She’s also the most tragic.
Her ability is that she can absorb the power of anyone she touches. If you can fly and she touches you, she can fly. Pretty cool. Problem is that she quickly absorbs everything from you – your abilities, your memories and, if she holds on long enough, your life. She can’t turn this power on and off so she wears an outfit that covers every part of her but her head.
She can’t touch anyone without causing them great pain. As you might imagine, this becomes problematic when romantic relationships are involved. Hence the tragedy.
Still, I really like Rogue. She’s a bit of a loner. She’s tough as nails and doesn’t put up with any nonsense from anyone. She has crazy hair, a southern accent and an attitude that I admire.
So, I’m calling my kickass runs Rogue runs from now on.
Tonight, it was 30+ degrees with the humidity. I ran at 5pm, a few hours before it started to cool off. I was tired, sore and lethargic as I tied up my shoes. I fought the heat and the wind. I ran out of water at 8k. Despite all of this, I managed to pull off a 10k run in 1 hour and 1 minute. That’s the closest I have ever come to breaking the elusive 60-minute barrier for a 10k.
Oh, and there is another reason why I call it a Rogue run.
I watched the cartoon as a kid, read the comics as a young adult and have seen every movie released. I just think the premise of the story is so cool. Regular folks like you or I who suddenly discover that their body has mutated and they have some crazy new ability. They can control the weather, change their appearance, read minds, heal themselves or shoot laser beams out of their eyes.
I studied evolution in school. It was one of my favourite subjects. What I learned was that individuals don’t evolve, species do. I will not wake up one day with gills, wings or the ability to climb walls. But, over thousands of years, humans slowly change and adapt to their environment. If having gills will help us survive, we may evolve them. But not in my lifetime.
So X-Men is not based on sound science, but it is pretty cool.
Last night’s run got me thinking about the X-Men. You see, a running friend of mine, Brian, describes a great run as a Superman run. I like that. It works and I can immediately picture how well the run went. I like Superman, he’s a cool character with neat abilities. But I don’t gravitate to him the way I do the X-Men. So I’m stealing the idea of a Superman run and calling my great runs Rogue runs.
Rogue is, in my opinion, the coolest of the X-Men.
She’s also the most tragic.
Her ability is that she can absorb the power of anyone she touches. If you can fly and she touches you, she can fly. Pretty cool. Problem is that she quickly absorbs everything from you – your abilities, your memories and, if she holds on long enough, your life. She can’t turn this power on and off so she wears an outfit that covers every part of her but her head.
She can’t touch anyone without causing them great pain. As you might imagine, this becomes problematic when romantic relationships are involved. Hence the tragedy.
Still, I really like Rogue. She’s a bit of a loner. She’s tough as nails and doesn’t put up with any nonsense from anyone. She has crazy hair, a southern accent and an attitude that I admire.
So, I’m calling my kickass runs Rogue runs from now on.
Tonight, it was 30+ degrees with the humidity. I ran at 5pm, a few hours before it started to cool off. I was tired, sore and lethargic as I tied up my shoes. I fought the heat and the wind. I ran out of water at 8k. Despite all of this, I managed to pull off a 10k run in 1 hour and 1 minute. That’s the closest I have ever come to breaking the elusive 60-minute barrier for a 10k.
Oh, and there is another reason why I call it a Rogue run.
By the time I got home, I was red-faced, dripping wet and downright disgusting. No one wanted to touch me either!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
I Sweat Therefore I Am...a Runner
Hold your nose folks.
Today's musings are about running clothes. Sweaty, stinky, can walk around the house on their own, running clothes.
There are some people out there who don't sweat.
I live with one of them.
I am not one of them.
I'm sweating profusely before I get to the end of my street...in February.
I know people who can get more than one wear out of their running clothes before they hit the laundry. I peel off dripping wet, salt covered clothes after an easy 20 minute run and would never EVER consider not washing every article of clothing after every run - including my hat.
My first summer of running, I bought myself a super cool pair of CWX running shorts and I loved them. I wore them, I washed them, I hung them to dry. I was a runner!
A few weeks into the summer, I began to notice a certain odor wafting up from said shorts mere seconds after I put them on. I wasn't even running yet!?! I started adding baking soda to the laundry to help neutralize things a bit. It didn't do much.
I was embarassed to ask my running friends because no one else seemed to have this problem. During a weekend in Guelph, I went into a running store and explained my problem to the nice lady. It felt oddly like going to confession. She immediately starting talking about her first summer of running and her encounter with the same problem. She handed me a surprisingly small $15 bottle of special laundry soap. I brought it home, tried it out and it seemed to do the trick. Problem was that I needed to do three loads of running clothes a week meaning that the bottle wouldn't last more than a few weeks. Meaning that I would be paying a lot of money to wash my already expensive clothes.
So I rationed it. Waited until the odor came back and then used it. I made it last all season but I was bitter about having to pay so much.
Then, this past April, while we were gallavanting around Provincetown, I discovered Tide Sports Wash. Same price as the regular stuff but specifically designed for stinky fitness clothes. I bought the last bottle on the shelf and brought it home. It works!
Now it's almost empty and I can't find it in Canada.
I've heard that there is a new PC brand of sports wash available. I haven't tried it yet. The bottle looks small and expensive but it is available in Canada which is helpful.
I don't mind being a sweaty, smelly runner. I just want my clothes to smell good when I put them on. After that, anything goes!
Today's musings are about running clothes. Sweaty, stinky, can walk around the house on their own, running clothes.
There are some people out there who don't sweat.
I live with one of them.
I am not one of them.
I'm sweating profusely before I get to the end of my street...in February.
I know people who can get more than one wear out of their running clothes before they hit the laundry. I peel off dripping wet, salt covered clothes after an easy 20 minute run and would never EVER consider not washing every article of clothing after every run - including my hat.
My first summer of running, I bought myself a super cool pair of CWX running shorts and I loved them. I wore them, I washed them, I hung them to dry. I was a runner!
A few weeks into the summer, I began to notice a certain odor wafting up from said shorts mere seconds after I put them on. I wasn't even running yet!?! I started adding baking soda to the laundry to help neutralize things a bit. It didn't do much.
I was embarassed to ask my running friends because no one else seemed to have this problem. During a weekend in Guelph, I went into a running store and explained my problem to the nice lady. It felt oddly like going to confession. She immediately starting talking about her first summer of running and her encounter with the same problem. She handed me a surprisingly small $15 bottle of special laundry soap. I brought it home, tried it out and it seemed to do the trick. Problem was that I needed to do three loads of running clothes a week meaning that the bottle wouldn't last more than a few weeks. Meaning that I would be paying a lot of money to wash my already expensive clothes.
So I rationed it. Waited until the odor came back and then used it. I made it last all season but I was bitter about having to pay so much.
Then, this past April, while we were gallavanting around Provincetown, I discovered Tide Sports Wash. Same price as the regular stuff but specifically designed for stinky fitness clothes. I bought the last bottle on the shelf and brought it home. It works!
Now it's almost empty and I can't find it in Canada.
I've heard that there is a new PC brand of sports wash available. I haven't tried it yet. The bottle looks small and expensive but it is available in Canada which is helpful.
I don't mind being a sweaty, smelly runner. I just want my clothes to smell good when I put them on. After that, anything goes!
Friday, June 24, 2011
Salt Licks and Oblivious Caterpillars
Milo lives next door. He's a cute, mid-sized dog that I'm going to call a mutt because I don't know enough to recognize whether or not he's a specific breed.
He's light brown. Does that help??
Milo is cute and full of energy but he tends to limit our interactions to him barking at me as I wave to him. We are acquaintances at best.
Yesterday, our relationship was taken to a whole new level. When I came home from my run, he was sitting on the front porch. He ran over, barked and then proceeded to lick my legs with complete abandon.
Summer running makes for tasty runners apparently.
After an hour in the humidity I was one big salty snack and he was more than happy to put aside our differences to take advantage. I'm thinking he had some pretty nice dreams last night about the 5'9" potato chip that walking into his life.
I've decided to embrace the sweat.
Last summer, and the summer before that, I was training for half marathons. Half marathon training still involves a lot of running but it's a little more forgiving. If I missed a run...or a week of running...I could catch up again. So I'd skip runs or cut them short when it was really hot. I tolerated the heat and humidity but just barely.
This summer, I'm trying a different approach. I need to find the positives in order to not want to throw in the towel every time it feels too humid. I'm going to embrace the heat. Luxuriate in it. Be proud of the fact that my clothes are soaked through and that sweat is running down into my shoes as I run. This is my first summer running with long hair and it's shocking how quickly it can become a dripping mass of salt water.
I'm just going with it.
Apparently we can get used to anything. Run enough in the heat and humidity and it begins to feel less oppressive. So here goes nothing.
On a completely unrelated note, I did my 90 second plank again last night. I'm proud to announce that the first thirty seconds went very well and I was feeling much stronger. Things quickly deteriorated from there and I was a shaking mess by about 50 seconds. Still, I'm sure it's getting better.
And I almost killed a caterpillar. The little fluorescent green guy dropped from the tree above onto my mat just as I started my plank. I watched in horror as he inched his way down the mat, directly under my stomach. I still do not end planks gracefully. I collapse in a heap. He had about 15 shaky seconds to move or there were going to be serious problems for the caterpillar.
He didn't move.
I collapsed into a very ungraceful sweaty heap but managed to at least collapse off to the side a bit. He's still alive and probably telling all his friends and family about the crazy adventure he had on the mysterious purple mat with the floating pink lady.
He's light brown. Does that help??
Milo is cute and full of energy but he tends to limit our interactions to him barking at me as I wave to him. We are acquaintances at best.
Yesterday, our relationship was taken to a whole new level. When I came home from my run, he was sitting on the front porch. He ran over, barked and then proceeded to lick my legs with complete abandon.
Summer running makes for tasty runners apparently.
After an hour in the humidity I was one big salty snack and he was more than happy to put aside our differences to take advantage. I'm thinking he had some pretty nice dreams last night about the 5'9" potato chip that walking into his life.
I've decided to embrace the sweat.
Last summer, and the summer before that, I was training for half marathons. Half marathon training still involves a lot of running but it's a little more forgiving. If I missed a run...or a week of running...I could catch up again. So I'd skip runs or cut them short when it was really hot. I tolerated the heat and humidity but just barely.
This summer, I'm trying a different approach. I need to find the positives in order to not want to throw in the towel every time it feels too humid. I'm going to embrace the heat. Luxuriate in it. Be proud of the fact that my clothes are soaked through and that sweat is running down into my shoes as I run. This is my first summer running with long hair and it's shocking how quickly it can become a dripping mass of salt water.
I'm just going with it.
Apparently we can get used to anything. Run enough in the heat and humidity and it begins to feel less oppressive. So here goes nothing.
On a completely unrelated note, I did my 90 second plank again last night. I'm proud to announce that the first thirty seconds went very well and I was feeling much stronger. Things quickly deteriorated from there and I was a shaking mess by about 50 seconds. Still, I'm sure it's getting better.
And I almost killed a caterpillar. The little fluorescent green guy dropped from the tree above onto my mat just as I started my plank. I watched in horror as he inched his way down the mat, directly under my stomach. I still do not end planks gracefully. I collapse in a heap. He had about 15 shaky seconds to move or there were going to be serious problems for the caterpillar.
He didn't move.
I collapsed into a very ungraceful sweaty heap but managed to at least collapse off to the side a bit. He's still alive and probably telling all his friends and family about the crazy adventure he had on the mysterious purple mat with the floating pink lady.
Monday, June 20, 2011
I'm High
There are a few fun things I get to say as a person with diabetes.
One of my favourites is: "I get to have the last piece of cake because I've already taken insulin for it. If I can't have it, I might collaspe...or worse."
That's always a fun one.
The other one that makes me laugh in my head is when I get to say "I'm high".
It's probably funnier to me than to the people I tell it to. I just think that, coming from the girl who have never used recreational drugs of any sort and who usually stops at one glass of wine, to announce "I'm high" seems rather out of character.
Anyway, I'm not high at the moment but I was on the weekend. Just for a little bit. But the timing sucked.
Travel back in time with me if you will...
It's Saturday morning at 8am. It's already hot and humid and I am regretting not putting on my brand spanking new running tank. The new marathoners were all chatting about how this run is our last run for about 20 weeks that is not prescribed. We can run any distance we want but, starting on Tuesday, we're following the marathon training schedule.
I chose 14k because I figured it was a good lead in to the training and a good distance to prepare me for next Saturday's 16k.
Now, in order to really understand what happened, I need to take you back a little futher in time. Saturday at 6:30am to be exact. One and a half hours before any run is when I change my basal rate. That's the amount of insulin that trickles in from my pump. Now, after lots of trial and error, I have found that reducing my basal to 50% works well. I rarely have lows during runs and don't typically go too high either. So every Satuday morning the alarm goes off at 6:30am and the first thing I do is reach for the pump and change the settings.
The problem was that, for the last week or so, I was going low at the end of every run. Insteand of finishing a run with a blood sugar of 7 or 8, I was finishing in the 3s. Not good. So I decided to experiment a bit and reduce my basal insulin to 40%. Seemed pretty sensible to me.
The other factor that is important to understand is that I always eat the same breakfast before I run on Saturdays. It just makes it easier to calculate things. So, on Saturday morning I found myself standing in the kitchen looking at my cereal and wondering what the hell to do. I had reduced my basal insulin. Do I change the amount I take with my breakfast (bolus) too? I already reduce it to about 30% so do I reduce it even more? Keep it the same? Or increase it to make up for the change in basal. Option 3 would only defeat the purpose of what I was trying to do (avoid lows). Option 1 scared me because I thought I might reduce my total insulin by so much that my sugar would skyrocket. So I chose Option 2 and stuck to my regular routine.
So, back to the run. I started off fine and full of energy. I bounded through the first kilometer at a 5:50 pace. When we stopped to stretch, I had a get because I knew I was running 14k. Nothing out of the ordinary there. The second kilometer, my pace was 6:02. The third, I was 6:20 and, by the fourth, I was running about 6:40. Jim spotted me and ran over to ask if I was hurt. He said my running was looking very laboured.
I just felt exhausted and chalked it up to the late night the night before and the humidity. By the 5k mark, I was done and knew in my heart that running two more kilometers away from the store was foolish. I comforted myself with the thought that I didn't really have to run 14k today and settled for 10k.
The run home didn't get any better. No worse, but no better. My right ear felt plugged and my neck felt tight. I yawned a lot (not as easy as it sounds when you're gasping for breath) and I drank every drop of water I had. All things I have experienced before.
And still I did not clue in.
It wasn't until I got into my car and decided to check my sugar that it dawned on me. "I'm high".
Oh yes my friends, I ran 10k with a blood sugar of 20.0.
That in itself deserves a medal. Two actually. One for sheer strength of will. And another for stupidity.
I changed my basal insulin and didn't even think to bring my glucometer along for the run and test every few kilometers just to see what was happening.
Apparently a 10% change in insulin is more significant than it sounds.
Experiment number two happens on Tuesday night's 10k run. This time I'm bringing my glucometer along for the ride and making good use of it.
Another lesson learned.
One of my favourites is: "I get to have the last piece of cake because I've already taken insulin for it. If I can't have it, I might collaspe...or worse."
That's always a fun one.
The other one that makes me laugh in my head is when I get to say "I'm high".
It's probably funnier to me than to the people I tell it to. I just think that, coming from the girl who have never used recreational drugs of any sort and who usually stops at one glass of wine, to announce "I'm high" seems rather out of character.
Anyway, I'm not high at the moment but I was on the weekend. Just for a little bit. But the timing sucked.
Travel back in time with me if you will...
It's Saturday morning at 8am. It's already hot and humid and I am regretting not putting on my brand spanking new running tank. The new marathoners were all chatting about how this run is our last run for about 20 weeks that is not prescribed. We can run any distance we want but, starting on Tuesday, we're following the marathon training schedule.
I chose 14k because I figured it was a good lead in to the training and a good distance to prepare me for next Saturday's 16k.
Now, in order to really understand what happened, I need to take you back a little futher in time. Saturday at 6:30am to be exact. One and a half hours before any run is when I change my basal rate. That's the amount of insulin that trickles in from my pump. Now, after lots of trial and error, I have found that reducing my basal to 50% works well. I rarely have lows during runs and don't typically go too high either. So every Satuday morning the alarm goes off at 6:30am and the first thing I do is reach for the pump and change the settings.
The problem was that, for the last week or so, I was going low at the end of every run. Insteand of finishing a run with a blood sugar of 7 or 8, I was finishing in the 3s. Not good. So I decided to experiment a bit and reduce my basal insulin to 40%. Seemed pretty sensible to me.
The other factor that is important to understand is that I always eat the same breakfast before I run on Saturdays. It just makes it easier to calculate things. So, on Saturday morning I found myself standing in the kitchen looking at my cereal and wondering what the hell to do. I had reduced my basal insulin. Do I change the amount I take with my breakfast (bolus) too? I already reduce it to about 30% so do I reduce it even more? Keep it the same? Or increase it to make up for the change in basal. Option 3 would only defeat the purpose of what I was trying to do (avoid lows). Option 1 scared me because I thought I might reduce my total insulin by so much that my sugar would skyrocket. So I chose Option 2 and stuck to my regular routine.
So, back to the run. I started off fine and full of energy. I bounded through the first kilometer at a 5:50 pace. When we stopped to stretch, I had a get because I knew I was running 14k. Nothing out of the ordinary there. The second kilometer, my pace was 6:02. The third, I was 6:20 and, by the fourth, I was running about 6:40. Jim spotted me and ran over to ask if I was hurt. He said my running was looking very laboured.
I just felt exhausted and chalked it up to the late night the night before and the humidity. By the 5k mark, I was done and knew in my heart that running two more kilometers away from the store was foolish. I comforted myself with the thought that I didn't really have to run 14k today and settled for 10k.
The run home didn't get any better. No worse, but no better. My right ear felt plugged and my neck felt tight. I yawned a lot (not as easy as it sounds when you're gasping for breath) and I drank every drop of water I had. All things I have experienced before.
And still I did not clue in.
It wasn't until I got into my car and decided to check my sugar that it dawned on me. "I'm high".
Oh yes my friends, I ran 10k with a blood sugar of 20.0.
That in itself deserves a medal. Two actually. One for sheer strength of will. And another for stupidity.
I changed my basal insulin and didn't even think to bring my glucometer along for the run and test every few kilometers just to see what was happening.
Apparently a 10% change in insulin is more significant than it sounds.
Experiment number two happens on Tuesday night's 10k run. This time I'm bringing my glucometer along for the ride and making good use of it.
Another lesson learned.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Life-Imposed Easy Week
Life takes care of me sometimes.
Normally this happens when I'm too much of a doze to do it for myself.
When I'm training for a race there is a fairly strict running schedule to follow. The basic routine is: run three hards weeks and then one easy recovery week and then three hard weeks again. Continue ad nauseum until race day. Take a week or two off and then get back on the horse.
When I'm not training - I just run. Four times a week including a long run on Saturday. The long run distance is determined by how the heck I'm feeling. Anywhere between 10k and 16k works for me. The other days I do what I want. I'll run 40 minutes, 10k, hills or intervals. Whatever I'm in the mood for. I like the freedom of choice.
This week, it seemed like the world was conspiring against my running routine.
I took Monday off, as per usual.
Tuesday night, I planned on running about 10k. I adjusted my basal rate and planned my route. At the last minute, I happily cancelled when a wonderful friend agreed to stop by for some wine and stinky cheese. I figured, what the hell, I'll run on Wednesday and Thursday.
Then my mother called to invite Doug and I to go see Cirque du Soleil with her and my father. On Thursday night. The selfish part of my brain said "what about running??" but the part of me that embraces adventure and loves family time won out and said yes. So we're off to Hamilton on Thursday.
That left Wednesday night. As per usual, I was meeting my friend Matt for a 5k run.
At 5pm it was 34 degrees with a humidex of 40.
I showed up hydrated, eloaded and ready to run. He showed up in cotton shorts, a cotton t-shirt and no hat.
He lasted precisely 8 minutes and 44 seconds before he asked if we could turn around and head home.
That means that this week I will have run a grand total of 18 minutes.
Not exactly marathon training numbers.
It was driving home after the 18 minute run when I realized that life takes care of me. I have not had an easy week in weeks - because it's not on the schedule. There is no schedule...yet. I've just been running and, while I haven't been pushing too hard, I haven't been taking the proper time to rest either.
I am apparently the victim of a life-imposed easy week.
Normally this happens when I'm too much of a doze to do it for myself.
When I'm training for a race there is a fairly strict running schedule to follow. The basic routine is: run three hards weeks and then one easy recovery week and then three hard weeks again. Continue ad nauseum until race day. Take a week or two off and then get back on the horse.
When I'm not training - I just run. Four times a week including a long run on Saturday. The long run distance is determined by how the heck I'm feeling. Anywhere between 10k and 16k works for me. The other days I do what I want. I'll run 40 minutes, 10k, hills or intervals. Whatever I'm in the mood for. I like the freedom of choice.
This week, it seemed like the world was conspiring against my running routine.
I took Monday off, as per usual.
Tuesday night, I planned on running about 10k. I adjusted my basal rate and planned my route. At the last minute, I happily cancelled when a wonderful friend agreed to stop by for some wine and stinky cheese. I figured, what the hell, I'll run on Wednesday and Thursday.
Then my mother called to invite Doug and I to go see Cirque du Soleil with her and my father. On Thursday night. The selfish part of my brain said "what about running??" but the part of me that embraces adventure and loves family time won out and said yes. So we're off to Hamilton on Thursday.
That left Wednesday night. As per usual, I was meeting my friend Matt for a 5k run.
At 5pm it was 34 degrees with a humidex of 40.
I showed up hydrated, eloaded and ready to run. He showed up in cotton shorts, a cotton t-shirt and no hat.
He lasted precisely 8 minutes and 44 seconds before he asked if we could turn around and head home.
That means that this week I will have run a grand total of 18 minutes.
Not exactly marathon training numbers.
It was driving home after the 18 minute run when I realized that life takes care of me. I have not had an easy week in weeks - because it's not on the schedule. There is no schedule...yet. I've just been running and, while I haven't been pushing too hard, I haven't been taking the proper time to rest either.
I am apparently the victim of a life-imposed easy week.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Hot Stuff
There's just no way around it.
I am one hot chick.
Bedroom window open all winter, comforter tossed to the side, running in -20 without gloves kinda hot.
My internal microwave oven makes me ideally suited to running in Canadian winters. I love it. Better yet, I have it all figured out. I know what to wear with every five degree change in temperature and in every sort of wind chill, snow, and icy condition. I know my layers and we work well together.
The problems start when the temperate gets to be above zero.
At plus five, I'm in shorts. At plus ten, I'm in shorts, a t-shirt and a vest and, by plus fifteen, I'm in shorts and a t-shirt. Period.
Things would not be a problem if Canadian summers peaked at plus fifteen. But they don't. They have been known to hit plus thirty-five with some nasty-ass humidity thrown in for fun. This does not stop us from running hours every Saturday morning or doing hill repeats or interval training. The heat-loving people in my life may disagree but I find it absolutely brutal.
I am not one to run around in my sports bra (between my insulin pump and surgery scars - a bare midriff would take me a wee bit too far out of my comfort zone). So I'm stuck running in shorts and a t-shirt. No matter how hot it gets, there are just no more layers to remove.
I'm excited for spring. I'm excited to see the buds on the trees and feel the sun on my skin. But I'm also well aware that the days of running in comfort are rapidly coming to an end...at least until October when things start to cool off again. So for the next six months I am going to be one hot steamy lady...
...and not in a good way!
I am one hot chick.
Bedroom window open all winter, comforter tossed to the side, running in -20 without gloves kinda hot.
My internal microwave oven makes me ideally suited to running in Canadian winters. I love it. Better yet, I have it all figured out. I know what to wear with every five degree change in temperature and in every sort of wind chill, snow, and icy condition. I know my layers and we work well together.
The problems start when the temperate gets to be above zero.
At plus five, I'm in shorts. At plus ten, I'm in shorts, a t-shirt and a vest and, by plus fifteen, I'm in shorts and a t-shirt. Period.
Things would not be a problem if Canadian summers peaked at plus fifteen. But they don't. They have been known to hit plus thirty-five with some nasty-ass humidity thrown in for fun. This does not stop us from running hours every Saturday morning or doing hill repeats or interval training. The heat-loving people in my life may disagree but I find it absolutely brutal.
I am not one to run around in my sports bra (between my insulin pump and surgery scars - a bare midriff would take me a wee bit too far out of my comfort zone). So I'm stuck running in shorts and a t-shirt. No matter how hot it gets, there are just no more layers to remove.
I'm excited for spring. I'm excited to see the buds on the trees and feel the sun on my skin. But I'm also well aware that the days of running in comfort are rapidly coming to an end...at least until October when things start to cool off again. So for the next six months I am going to be one hot steamy lady...
...and not in a good way!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)