The Colour Purple

When I was cute little freckle-faced kid dreaming about becoming a marine biologist, my favourite colour was blue.  Not the sissy pale pastel blues but the deep dark royal and bright vibrant rich blues of the world.  Anything blue attracted me and I always picked blue when given a colour choice.  I ate my blue smarties last, bought blue yoga mats and got excited when the running shoes that were best suited to my feet were blue.

When it came time to order my first insulin pump, my colour choices were: clear, sensible grey, purple or bright blue.  I chose bright blue.  I never hide my diabetes so there was no point in buying a neutral coloured pump.  So my pump is bright BLUE!  How very cool is that?

As I've grown up, I slowly gained an appreciation for any kind of bright colour.  Tomato red, bright yellow, hot pink, green, orange.  I like all colours as long as they're bright.  The richer and brighter the better.  But blue always had a special place in my heart.

In the last year or so, my colour preferences haven't so much changed as expanded and I have discovered purple.  I'm not sure what brought on this expansion to my colour palette but now I covet deep rich purple things the way I do the blue ones.  Hell, the front and back doors of our house are painted purple and it's wicked.

Today, I had my quarterly endo appointment.  It went well.  We tweaked my basal rates a bit, troubleshooted (troubleshot?) a few things, talked about Yann Martel and reviewed my latest A1C.  Which, by the way, is a fabulous 6.9.  Yay me.

The best part of the appointment occurred when I asked if I could have a new glucometer.  Mine is old and is starting to feel rather bulky.  I thought I'd check out the newer models to see if anything caught my eye.  

My Endo left and came back with a new, compact, super sleek glucometer for me.  Much smaller than my current one and easier to slip into a pocket or a running belt.

The best part though isn't its functionality, the fact that it double checks my blood sugar results or the fact that it doesn't beep at me all the time. The best part of all is that it's purple!

I'm talking bright, shiny, make me happy every time I check my sugar purple. 

Sweet!

Fourteen Times Three Makes One Marathon

I have a thing for numbers.  And patterns.  And patterns of numbers.  Which is very handy considering the diabetes diagnosis I was handed 8 1/2 years ago. If there was ever someone who was well suited to their diagnosis - it's me.  My mother and I actually laughed about that as I sat in Intensive Care that first day.  I count everything, see patterns everywhere and like structure.  Hello diabetes management!

Anyway, today's musings aren't about diabetes, they're about numbers.

I'm fond of even numbers and have a particular fondness for the number 4.  Eight and two are pretty good too. Six is fine but it's not very pretty and just doesn't do much for me.

Odd numbers are appealing in a completely different way - I like to manipulate them (add, subtract etc) to turn them into even numbers. 

When I run, it's all about the numbers.

More importantly, it's about finding the right way to look at the numbers in order to reach a balance that is neither too easy nor too overwhelming.  For some people, running is 90% mental.  For me, it's 90% numbers.

For example, when I run a half marathon, I never run 21 kilometres.  I run 3 kilometres seven times. 

Around the Bay was 3 kilometres ten times. 

Sixteen kilometres is a favourite distance of mine because it's 4x4 (wicked!).

The other important thing I do when I'm running is I count up and then down.  In other words, for a half marathon, I have seven sets of 3K to do.  I count up (1 set, 2 sets, 3 sets, 4 sets) and then, once over the half way hump, I change it to 3 sets to go, two sets, one set, done!

It's mind over matter folks and, for long runs, I'll use any trick I can to keep myself in the right frame of mind.

This summer, the new magic number I have to work with is 42.2 kilometres.  I am trying to figure out how to break it down into manageable chunks.   

Right now, I'm leaning towards the idea that, on October 23rd, I'll be running two half marathons.  That's 7 sets of 3K - twice.  Count up for the first seven and then down for the last seven. 

I've run 3K. I've run half marathons. Nothing new there.  This time, once I get to the half marathon finish line, I have to turn around and do it all over again.

What's the big deal?

My Hero. Our Hero.

It’s official.

Every time I think about it, my eyes well up with tears of sheer joy.

I’ve known he was a hero since that evening run back in 2008. When I was in my first running clinic huffing and puffing my way through a 20-minute run, thinking that there was no way I was going to make it. That I just wasn’t strong enough to be a runner.

Out of the blue a quiet, unassuming man ran up beside me and kept me company. He chatted with me. I listened because I did not have the strength to talk. He gently motivated me to just keep moving and, somehow, I did. I made it through the run and made a new friend. His name was John.

He quickly became my hero.

Yesterday, John received an email that confirmed what many of us have known to be true for years. John was officially chosen as one of this year’s Global Heroes.

I can say, without a doubt, that there is no better person upon which to bestow the title of Hero.

The most shocking part of John’s story is the part that actually allowed him to submit an application to Medtronic’s Global Heroes. You see, in order to apply, one has to be a runner who is able to run thanks to some sort of medical device.  In John's case, it's an ICD.

November 2008 - John died from cardiac arrest. His heart stopped. His partner (now wife) Michelle became his lifeline by doing CPR until the ambulance arrived. The paramedics shocked his heart and brought him back to life. John now has an ICD. Pretty amazing stuff to be sure.

But that’s not what makes him a hero. To be brave, to be a hero, one must have a choice. John did not choose to go into cardiac arrest and he did not choose to be saved. His cardiac arrest was a random event and his life was saved thanks to other heroes like Michelle and the paramedics.

John is a hero because of what happened after that fateful night.

Many people would have chosen to live in fear after such a harrowing experience.

John didn’t.

John faced his fears head on. He plowed through them and he kicked their asses. Less than two months after his cardiac arrest, John showed up at Runners’ Edge ready to run. Less than seven months after his cardiac arrest, he ran his first half marathon. He and Michelle got married soon afterwards and they created the most amazing blended family I have ever had the pleasure to meet. 

John has chosen to live his life to the fullest. He faces his fears every day and refuses to let them win.

John challenges himself.

To stay fit and healthy. 

To love unconditionally.

To make himself vulnerable.

To be a true friend. 

In doing so, he inspires others. 

To run just a little further.   To be honest with themselves.   To be brave.

John’s life was saved and handed back to him. What he has chosen to do with it is what makes him a hero.

Up Down Up Down

There aren't too many friendships where, on the first date you go for tea, the second you go for a nice 5k run by the canal and, by the third, you're doing hill training in the pouring rain. The fourth has already been booked and will involve running 800m intervals until we drop.  Fun!

As promised, Scully and I met up after work yesterday to run hills.  She showed up at my place and, within minutes, we were comparing glucometers, insulin pump insertion sites, basal rates, pre-running carb options and running belts.  She even brought me two of her tummietote belts to try. Thank you!!

Because we are not only T1s but are also runners, we talked about resting heart rates, marathon training schedules and running paces.  It's great to be able to talk the talk with someone who knows the lingo.

So back to hills.

Running on relatively flat surfaces is one thing. Hill training is a very different beast and something that is hard to really understand until you do it. So Scully bravely headed out with Doug and I, not quite sure what she was getting herself in to. We ran down to the bottom of the hill, turned around and ran part way up (three hydro poles to be exact).  Back down to the bottom and then up four hydro poles.  And five. And six. And so forth until we finally got to the top. Every time, Doug took off like a rocket, I ran my pace and Scully was a few steps behind.  The farther up the hill we ran, the more she closed the distance. 

Did I mention that this was her first official hill training session? 

And that this is something I've been doing semi-regularly for three years?

She is one strong runner!

Every time we got to the top, we caught our breath and caught up on our numbers.  How's your sugar?  How's your heart rate? 

Once we made it to the top of the hill, I said that I would normally do one more hill and then head home.  She suggested two.

Atta girl!

After the run, I suggested that Scully join Doug and I next week again for some 800m interval training.  She readily agreed.  I explained exactly what we are going to do so that she knows how long the run will be and can figure out what to do about adjusting basal rates.  'Cause us diabetics gotta know these things.

In exchange for hill and interval training, I am going to be dragged going to Hamilton at some point to try stair climbing.  Apparently it's a great workout that I will feel for days afterwards. 

Gulp.

Pump Adjustments and Hill Running

Well, I changed my infusion site yesterday and my blood sugar levels dropped back to almost normal.  Still running a little high but that means 8-9 rather than 17+ so I can't complain too much.  It will be nice when this post high headache I'm nursing decides to fly the coop.  

Despite my sugars heading back down to a less horrifying range, something still feels off.  I may be fighting a cold or something else might be kicking my liver into producing a little extra sugar.  Or it may be time to adjust my pump settings. 

That's always a little scary because, when I find something that works, it tends to work for a while.  I've had pretty consistently good sugars for a few months now so I'm not looking forward to messing with them. Fiddling with basal rates, correction rates and bolus calculations always makes things worse before they get better.  So I'm holding out another day to see if things settle - or if I start coughing and sneezing. 

On a happier note, I have a date tonight. A hill running date with Scully, my T1 running buddy.  We don't have to run hills.  It's not on any training schedule.  We could just head out along the canal path for a while and chat as we run.  But nope, we're doing hills...

...for fun.

It's supposed to be pouring rain just to add a little more adventure to the mix. 

I'm looking forward to it.  And so is she - despite her nervous sounding emails :)  It's always good to push ourselves a bit and it will be interesting to compare blood sugar reactions and heart rate fluctuations.  There aren't many people out there I can do both with.  I can hear the conversation already. 

Scully: "My blood sugar was 8.7 before and it's 7.4 after.  How was yours?" 

Celine: "Well, mine was 11.6 but my heart rate never went above 145.  Yours?"

Scully: "Mine hit 195!"

Celine: "Is that good?  I don't know if that's good. I still haven't figure out the heart rate thing. Gawd!"

So, if anyone spots two ladies with matching insulin pumps wrapped in ziplock bags running hills in the rain this afternoon - that would be us. 

And if it's not us, get their email addresses so that we can invite them to join our little group of nutters.

Seventeen One Too Many Times

I have read about other people's issues with insulin pump insertion sites.  I heard that sometimes they don't work well and a person's blood sugar climbs through the roof.  I've read about that and thought - wow that's sucks.

Never had it happen to me though. Not once in the 2+ years I've been on the pump.

Well I have been fighting crazy high blood sugars for two days.  I hit 17 twice yesterday doing what I always do.  Taking the same breakfast bolus for the same breakfast.  Doing the same pre run routine I always do.  17?  Seriously? 

I woke up at 2am and my sugar was, you guessed it, 17.

Today, I was 17 AGAIN two hours after lunch.  The same lunch I often have with the same bolus.

Every time, I took extra insulin and my sugar went back down but never as low as it should have gone based on the amount of insulin I took.

I've ruled out illness because I don't feel sick.  Well, other than the disgusting, sluggish, headache-y nauseated feeling from being high.

I'm not stressed as far as I can tell.

I have no infections...that I've noticed anyway. 

I have not increased or changed my activity level.

There are no air bubbles in the tubing.

Could it be my insertion site?

I'm not due to change it until tomorrow but I'm willing to take a hit on the insulin loss by changing it early.  So I'm heading home early to do the ol'changeroo and see what's what.

Fingers crossed. 

Officially Official

It's officially official.

I have just signed myself up for my first marathon.

I was going to do the sensible thing.  Start training and see how I felt as the mileage increased.  If all went well up to about 25k, I figured I'd sign up then. 

Instead, in a moment of mild panic, I pulled out my credit card, entered my birth date and chose my shirt size.  Because as I sat at my desk, a little voice in my head whispered - what if it sells out?

The website shows the maximum runners allowed for the marathon as 1500.  But there is no indication as to whether there are 100 people already registered or 1000.  Imagine finding out too late that it has sold out.  That would, in simple terms, totally suck.

So I signed up.

I remember the first time I chose 'half marathon' from an online drop down menu.  I felt slightly hysterical - like I was just a little bit nuts even thinking I could run that far.  That hysteria lasted throughout the training and I constantly wondered if I was completely crazy for even trying it. This time, as I chose 'marathon', I felt rather peaceful. Like I know I will somehow pull this off but there is no point wasting one ounce of energy worrying about how.  I'll be needing that energy to train.

Unless a catastrophe happens (which it could I suppose), I will be standing at that start line on October 23rd.  I was also be crossing the finish line (hopefully the calendar will still say October 23rd!).  The 42.2 kilometers between the two points will remain shrouded in mystery until the day of but I'm guessing I will feel exhilirated, defeated, exhausted, pumped, strong, determined, unable to carry on and unwilling to give up.  I will cry several times for several different reasons.  I will spot friends on the course and their support will keep me moving.  I will spot the finish line and honestly doubt whether I will make it.  I fully expect to feel all of these things, plus some nausea thrown in for fun. 

Maybe that's why I'm not scared. 

I have faced these demons before and, if I've learned nothing else, I have learned that I can kick their ass when I need to. 

I'm sure that I will face things I haven't encountered before.  But I'm confident enough in my ability to push through that I'm not staying up nights worrying about it. 

Come what may...

So I've signed up and told the world.

Let's get this show on the road!