Small Changes Equals Fewer Changes

Diabetes is anything but predictable.  Everyone who has it reacts differently to insulin, carbs, exercise, hormones, weather, moods, stress, illness (shall I go on?).  An even bigger pain in the pancreas is that each person's reaction to all of these factors (and more) changes too.  What works this week might not work next week etc etc ad nauseum.

Sometimes, these changes are frustrating. Exasperating. Cause for mini-meltdowns in the kitchen. 

Other times, they're kinda neat.  And occasionally, they even save me money.

Today was pump changing day.  My pump woke me in the middle of the night with its lovely singsong voice.  Boop beep boop.  Only 20 units of insulin left.  I thanked it for the warning, acknowledged it by pressing the right combination of buttons and rolled back over for a few more hours of sleep.  Before breakfast, the pump changing routine started.  I took the insulin vial out of the fridge, pulled out all my supplies from my diabetes cupboard and layed everything out on the counter.  Strange - it felt like it had been longer than usual between pump changes.  I thought back on the last time I had changed it and was shocked.

Typically, I change my pump every four to four and a half days.  Which means that if I changed it on a Saturday morning, I would either change it again on a Wednesday morning or, at the latest, on a Wednesday evening.  That's been the pattern pretty much since I started pumping. 

The last time I changed my pump was on Saturday morning, right after my long run.  It's Friday today.  Somehow, I got an extra day and a half out of the insulin supply I had in there. 

Coming from someone who has changed a lot of pump sites - that's a pretty significant difference.

I can guarantee that I did not put any more insulin in there than usual because I always fill it to the max.  So I'm using less - way less - than I normally would. 

What's up with that?

I figure it's one of several things. 

I'm exercising more regularly and for longer periods than I ever have in my life.  Hardly a day goes by when I'm not doing something.  This regular, consistent activity is probably keeping my blood sugar levels a little lower so I'm not taking extra insulin to correct for highs. 

I've also been having, on average, less lows than I usually do which means I don't have the rebound highs that often accompany lows.  Which means I don't have to correct with extra insulin.

It's summer and I typically need a little less insulin than I do in the winter.

Doug and I are making an effort to eat even healthier than we normally do.  I'm eating more veggies which don't require insulin and they are probably crowding out things that do like pasta and bread.  Not that those things are bad, they're just taking up a little less room on my plate.  Which means I'm having less insulin with meals.

Small changes that resulted in my insulin supply lasting an extra day and half. Crazy.

Between the pump supplies and the insulin, I'm guessing that it costs about $30 every time I change my pump. If I get an extra few days out of each change, that adds up after a while. If this pattern holds, the money I'll save on pump supplies can go towards a new pair of running shoes. 

Which is good because I seem to be going through those at a rather alarming rate.

Jacob Two-Two and the 800m intervals

Ever have one of those dreams that feel so real you don't realize you're asleep? 

I don't have those very often.  My dreams tend to involve strange creatures, super powers, and such bizarre plot lines that I never really think they're real.  I just go along for the ride. 

This morning's dream was different. It felt so real that I'm still a little shaken to find out that it wasn't.

Here's how it went.

I woke up at 5am, pulled on my running clothes and headed downstairs.  I felt full of energy (that should have been my first clue).  I checked my sugar: 5.0 (perfect!).  I had a gel and two dates and headed out the door.  Today's run was interval training and I had emailed Benny yesterday to ask what we had to do.  Ten times 800m with a 2k warm up and a 2k cooldown.  So I trotted along for 2k to get to the subdivision where we run our 800m intervals.  I felt good.  The sun was coming up.  I did all ten reps - they were hard but I felt strong through all ten of them. I grabbed my water belt and headed home again. As I was running over the bridge, just a few hundred metres from home, I was nuzzled awake by Doug.  I glanced at the clock.  It said 4:58am.

What?!?  Seriously?

I have to do it all over again.

I crawled out of bed for real this time.  I pulled on my clothes and stumbled downstairs.  I was groggy and tired after three days of getting up at 5am.  I checked my sugar: 10.8 (sigh).  I had a gel and took 0.4units of insulin to give me a little something to fight the high.

I ran an easy 2k, took off my water belt and prepared myself mentally to run 800m.  Fast.  Ten times.

The first time I brought Scully out to do these, I told her that it was four minutes of hell.  Truth be told, it's actually about 4 minutes and forty five seconds of hell.  The first trick is to push yourself at a pace that you can sustain for the entire 800m.  The second trick is to push it at a pace that you can sustain for all ten reps.

I ran the first one in 4:42.  It felt pretty good.  The next four were 4:40, 4:39, 4:38 and 4:35. 

I'm nothing if not consistent. 

Doug, Klari and Barb showed up at 6:30am.  They meet every week as part of their training for the Simcoe Shores Ultra Distance Relay (more on that craziness in an upcoming blog).  I chatted for a few seconds and then continued for rep number 6.  They started after I did but are much faster so they caught me in the last few hundred metres.  Klari pulled up beside me and something possessed me to sprint like a maniac for the last 200m.  Pride?  Stupidity?  Whatever it was, I did that interval in 4:24.

The next two were ok (4:35 and 4:40) but I was tiring quickly.  The final two were 4:53 and 4:55.  I was done. 

I waved goodbye to the others, pulled on my now empty water belt and headed home.  It was slow - I walked the last few hundred metres over the bridge and down my street. 

If you count the ten reps I did before I even woke up this morning, I did 20x800m and ran just over 24k. 

If you insist on only counting those that are officially registered on my Garmin, I did 10x800 and ran just over 12k.

Either way, I've had quite the workout and am now enjoying the endorphin high that comes after a great run. And I'm crossing my fingers that tonight's dreams involve flying whales and purple pandas.

Lalalalalala

I like running quotes.  I like funny running sayings on t-shirts and bumper stickers.  I like statements that inspire and make me feel proud to be a runner.

One of the best ways to know that a big race is coming up is by checking to see how many of my Facebook friends post running quotes on their Wall and change their profile pics to something to do with running shoes.  We're not close enough yet to marathon time for the quotes to start flying but I did stumble across one yesterday that got me thinking.

"In the first half of the race, don't be an idiot.  In the second half, don't be a wimp." 

Taken from Scott Douglas - Running Times' Senior Editor.

I like that one.  It works for any distance - from a 1k spring to an ironman. 

How many of us have gone out too fast at the start only to die before the end?  (that's me over there waving my hand madly in the air)

I can train to run a half marathon at a 6:30 min/km pace and then suddenly, on race day, I start out runnning 5:50s.  I have actually convinced myself that I could sustain it for then entire 21.1km.  It feels so easy, I feel so strong...for the first ten minutes.  Then I slow to 6:00 and feel bad about slowing down (seriously?).  Then I slow even more to 6:30, which should feel ok but still feels hard because I was...an idiot.  Then I crash and end up running 7 minute kilometres for the second half of the race.  It all evens out by the end and I finish pretty much at the time I predicted.  But seriously folks - I've gotta stop doing that!

So I like the quote.  Start off slow. Don't be an idiot.  Have a plan and stick to it. 

In the second half, it's going to feel hard.  Really hard.  Don't be a wimp about it. 

Everything sounds so much simpler when it's wrapped in quotation marks doesn't it?

My all-time favourite quote, which isn't really about running, is:

"Whether you think you can, or you think you can't, you're probably right." 

Henry Ford said that.  I like his attitude.  I'm working on developing my own. 

Right now, my attitude feels kinda like resignation.  Not in a bad way - I've just entered a mode where every run is just the next run.  Do it, and get it done.  Don't panic about the distance.  Don't worry about the hills.  Don't even think about it (if necessary, insert fingers in ears and sing lalalalalalala).

Just do it. 

I think it's a protective mechanism - if I freak out now when I have to run 22k, how the hell am I going to cope with 32k?  Or 42?

Point two.

So I just think I can and I'm probably right.

And if I'm not? 

We'll just cross that bridge if we get to it.

Faerie Gifts

The last few days have been filled with experiences that seem almost magical for their rarity. 

First of all, I woke up in the wee hours on Sunday morning to a sound I haven't heard in weeks and weeks.  It took a few moments for me to register what was happening but finally the fog lifted and a picture formed.  It was...

...raining! 

The rain fell hard and showed no signs of stopping.  I listened to it for a while and then floated back to sleep wrapped in blankets and contentment.  Rain.

The next morning, we opened the door to a fresh clean world.  The temperature had dropped a few degrees, the world smelled like earth and everything looked shiny and new.  As we cycled through St. David's, past the cherry trees and peach orchards, the whole world seemed to be singing.

This morning I had another magical experience.  I opened the door at 5:30am, all set to run 10k and beat the heat (my new favourite phrase).  I walked outside and something felt different.  I couldn't quite place it.  Eveything looked the same as it did yesterday. 

Then I realized what it was. 

I felt comfortable.

I walked outside and did not walk smack into a wall of heat and humidity.  I walked outside and felt cool and comfortable. After last week's craziness, my body sighed with relief. 

It was a beautiful morning.  We've lost a few minutes of daylight since last week so I started the run in the dark.  Ten minutes in, the sun was peaking through the trees.  Today, the sight of the sun wasn't cause for concern or of panic.  It was just so beautiful to watch it come up.

Funny what a five degree drop in temperature can do to our physical and mental health isn't it?

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.

Nature Girl

Every time the seasons change, I always have the same thought:  "I wonder what people who have just arrived in Canada will think of the next season?".

We live in a pretty dynamic country and our seasonal changes are extreme.  Every twelve months, we go through a shocking cycle of change.

Right now, our runs look like this. 

In six months, they will look like this.

I was told once by our running coach: "if it's minus forty or plus forty, we don't run".  That leaves a pretty incredible range in which we do run.  And run we do.

But back to new Canadians for a moment.  When the leaves start to change colour and we pull out our sweaters, I always wonder what people who have never experienced fall will think about the process.  Will they find it beautiful...or sad?  Will they appreciate the sounds of Canada geese honking or be horrified by the shortening days?  Do they have any idea how delicious apple cider and pumpkin pie are?

What about people who arrive in the middle of our winter?  Do they think that it will never end?  Do they believe us when we tell them that the snow will stop falling, the winds will warm, the trees will leaf and the sun will set at 9pm instead of 4:30pm?    And wait until they discover fresh summer strawberries and tomatoes!

Anyone climbing off a plane this week will laugh at the idea of Canada being a land of ice and snow.  Yesterday, according to the Weather Network, we were hotter than Houston, Mumbai and Tel Aviv.

I have a completely different appreciation for our seasons than I did even a few years ago. I used to love winter for the pretty snow, spring for the warm winds and the smell of earth, summer for bbqs and fall for the colours.  Simple things that completely defined a season for me.

I've always been a nature girl - happiest when outside, in the woods chasing moose or on a boat chasing whales.  Nature for me was all about what I could see, hear and smell.

Running has changed all that.  Well, not so much changed as enhanced.  

Now, I notice and respond to every five degree change in temperature.  I notice the changing amount of sunlight in terms of minutes, not hours.  I feel subtle variations in the wind and in the angle of the sun.

Now, I'm in tune with the air, the temperature, the wind, the light.

I love that.  It sounds completely cliché but I feel so much more alive and I feel like I am part of nature rather than an enthusiastic observer.  Winter is no longer cold and dark.  I've learned that there are all sorts of different kinds of cold. And dark. And different kinds of hot.  And windy.  And humid.

They're all wonderful in their own way.  Truly.  Even days like yesterday that cause me to wilt.  They are all part of the Canadian cycle of seasons.

Damn - we are so lucky aren't we?

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.