Bolusing for Baklava

"Need anything out of the kitchen?" Doug asked.

"I'm hoping I can have baklava but not yet" I replied after a glance at my pump.

I had bolused a little earlier but no sign that I was dropping yet so there was no way I was touching that high carb treat.

Evenings are a juggling act on my side of the couch.

I like a little post-dinner treat but I've learned a few important lessons over the years.

1. Bolus early and do not eat the snack until it's very clear that blood sugar is dropping as it should.

2. Eat early enough so that I know if I'm in a good spot before going to bed - otherwise Rose will wait until I'm sound asleep and then start alarming like a madwomen. I may be high. I may be low. But I'll be something. And no one wants to eat four fig newtons at midnight after already having a high calorie treat before bed.

3. Do not have a post-dinner treat if dinner was a high carb meal. Otherwise there won't be enough time to know what the blood sugar dinner gods will do before I call in the blood sugar snacks gods. Usually they have a big ol' fight in the middle of the night. See number 2 for more details.

4. Do not rage bolus after 7pm unless absolutely necessary. Without fail I will be eating a snack that I do not want to eat at 3am. Guarantee.

There are nights when I have bolused for chocolate, put it on a plate, studiously ignored it for an hour and then put it back in the cupboard with a sigh because, by 9:00pm, I still wasn't low enough to eat it.

There are night when I have bolused for chocolate, enjoyed the chocolate without waiting for my dinner numbers to drop, gone to bed high, bolused extra and then had to eat two more snacks during the night because of lows.

"Need anything out of the kitchen?" is always tempting but I'm slowly learning to say yes when the stars align and to say no when they don't.

I value my sleep too much to jeopardize it unnecessarily for a piece of baklava - as delicious as it is.

Finding my Mojo

I've fallen off the bandwagon. Partly on purpose. Partly out of necessity. Partly because it feels like what I need right now.

My regular routine of working out six or seven days out of the week has, for the last two weeks, dropped down to 4 days a week.

Max.

A combination of crazy schedules, simply not enough time, late nights and a nagging fatigue that feels heavier than it should has resulted in my skipping more workouts than I have in...I don't remember how long.

I've swum twice in two weeks instead of six times.

I haven't cycled once.

I've gotten four runs in instead of six and I completely skipped my scheduled 16k long run that was in my training plan for the upcoming Boxing Day ten mile race I signed up for.

Despite sleeping in until 6:30am most mornings, and a much reduced workout schedule, I feel like I'm still in major sleep debt.

So I've decided not to worry about picking up my socks and getting back on the bandwagon. Instead, I'm going to focus on sleeping as much as I can, eating as well as I can and getting in a few quality workouts rather than a bunch of half-hearted ones.

I have nine working days left until I get two weeks off. Two weeks to recover. Catch up on my rest. Nap when I want to. Workout at noon if that's what makes sense.

Twenty-fourteen is already filling up with races, travel plans and lofty goals. I don't want to start off the year feeling like I'm behind the 8 ball.

Nine working days left and then I can work on getting my mojo back.

The Week Without Bullet Points

What happened this week?

I rediscovered my love for Margaret Atwood. I am rereading Oryx and Crake (which is just as good the second time) and have the next two books in the trilogy lined up and ready to go. I am endlessly fascinated with the way she writes - the language, the undertones of irony, the societal warnings, the humour. Such a Canadian treasure.

I showed up to work on Thursday wearing purple. It was World Diabetes Day which means I should have worn blue but I only have two blue tops and neither were really warm enough for the day. I figured no one I worked with would really care since I'm the only pancreatically-challenged one of the bunch. I arrived to discover that one of them had discovered the importance of blue on November 14th and sent an email out to the rest of them. Almost everyone showed up at the staff meeting in blue. So nice!

I renewed my Canadian passport. It expires in early 2014 and we are already planning a winter escape so I figured I'd better get on it. I got my photo taken and application submitted within 40 minutes. The new one arrives in 10 days. And won't expire until I'm, wait for it, 49 years old. Eeep!

I discovered that regular nail polish can survive two swims in the pool before it really starts chipping. Metallic ones, as pretty as they are, don't survive one chlorine dip. I put on a pretty copper colour on Sunday evening. I went swimming on Monday morning and every nail has chipped or worse by the end of the swim. Sad day. Guess I'll have to save that colour for weeks when the pool is closed.

I was reminded what happens when we close up the house and turn the heat on. I wake up every single morning convinced I am getting sick. My throat is dry, my lips feel cracked. Then I have a few sips of water and remember, again, that it's the dry heat that kills me. Instead of grumbling about the heat, I thank the gods I'm not getting sick fix the problem with a few extra gulps of water.

I run in the dark now, like a vampire, with my red light flashing on my toque and my reflective vest warning cars that, yes indeed, that is a human approaching. Tuesday morning there was a light dusting of snow on the rooftops, the sky was clear and the stars were twinkling. On Thursday morning the wind was howling and the sky was full of clouds. Both mornings I dragged myself out of bed and spent the next 30 minutes trying to convince myself not to crawl back in...until I walked out the door. The wild, unpredictable and beautiful weather this time of year is my favourite. Funny how I forget every time the alarm goes off and yet NEVER regret forcing myself out of bed once I get out into it.

I realized that Christmas is in something crazy like 42 days and I haven't even thought about Christmas gifts. For anyone. I'm just so excited for my family to be together, to meet my new nephew who I have yet to actually see in real life, to spend time giggling with my sisters - I don't care one whit about the presents. Bring on the hugs!!

I only got one swim in this week. I missed two due to early morning commitments that I could not escape from. I dislike missing one swim. I hate missing two. I'm already looking forward to Monday morning so I can slip back into the water again. I hope I remember how to do that body roll I'm working on...

I did, however, have two wonderful runs (see above) and am looking forward to squeezing in a quick 12k run before Doug and I head to Toronto for a day of family visits, friends and trips to fountain pen stores.

For those of you who care about such things, did you see what is coming out very soon?

Pretty! Soooooo pretty!!! 

And this week I made a date with three fabulous ladies to go see the second Hunger Games movie. Dinner first. Then wicked movie. We're all so excited that it's almost funny. 

Except it's not. 

Because we're just so excited. 

Talk to you all on Monday eh?

Mixed Blessing

On Saturday night, I went to bed around 9:30pm.  Before you start making fun of me, this is not a post about how uncool I am.

I fell asleep by about 10pm and woke up at 7am with my alarm.  I didn't toss and turn and I didn't wake up once.

That rarely happens.  I usually wake up two or three times a night, every night.  I stumble to the washroom at least once and I check my sugar once I've stumbled back to bed.

On those rare occasions when I sleep straight through the night I wake up with two thoughts in my head:

1. yay, I caught up on a bit of sleep, and 
2. oh shit - my blood sugar must be through the roof.

I only ever sleep straight through when my sugar is high.  I checked and, yup, it was 15.0.

Nights like that are such a mixed blessing.  I really do feel rested in the morning and, surprisingly, I don't feel crappy from having been high for hours and from being really dehydrated.  In fact, I feel so much more rested that I kinda, secretly, wish I could have more of those nights.  And yet, as we all know, hanging out with numbers that high for hours on end is NOT a good thing and not something we should make a habit of.

It's a tricky little window.  Normal blood sugar means I sleep lightly and wake up easily during the night.  Higher (12-15) means a wonderfully sound sleep.  Really high (16+) means an unsettled night of crazy nightmares that last until I can wrench myself from sleep and pump myself full of insulin.  

I'm grateful those nightmares don't happy too often but ohhhhh, it's soooo nice to sleep through the night.

Never Too Young

Apparently I'm too young to nap.  I guess, depending on your perspective, I'm also too old to nap.

I'm getting a little ahead of myself.  Let me back up a bit.  Here's the story: our curling team got together today for a practice session.  Afterwards we shared brunch before heading off in our separate directions.  As we enjoyed our post curling snack, a lovely couple stopped by our table on their way out (they had also come in for a Sunday morning curling practice).  During the conversation they made a joke about napping and said that they may be old but they're not that old...yet.

Little did they know that I was already dreaming about my own Sunday afternoon nap.  Confession time: I'm an under forty napper.  Not a nap on the couch during a tv show kinda napper.  Not a fifteen minute power napper. I'm a undress, climb under the blankets and wake up two hours later kinda napper.  

I love naps.  I love falling asleep in a sunlit room.  I love waking up feeling rested.  I love the laziness of it all.

I don't nap every day or even every week.  My body tells me when I need a nap and I am only too happy to oblige.  Today, I knew I was going for a nap as soon as my alarm went off at 6:30am.  So, after curling, I burrowed under the covers and emerged 2 1/2 hours later (insert purring noise here).  I definitely needed that.

I woke up to the sound of chopping in the kitchen and the smell of freshly cut vegetables wafting up the stairs.  Dinner preparations were underway and chef Doug was in charge tonight.  Chicken with red pepper sauce over pasta.  So delicious!

Ever helpful in the kitchen, my job was to sit at the counter, sip my red wine and ask questions about golf as today's Pebble Beach ProAm played in the background.  I'm not a golfer but I do like learning about it.  Especially from someone with the patience to answer my endless questions.

Today was a great day.  A lovely balance of fitness and laziness, friendship and love.

Slainte!