Stupid Mudder

After having a few days to let my mind recover (my body is still in agony) I've come to a few conclusions.

-  The event organizers are out to punish

-  I can’t be the only crazy one if thousands of other fools signed up and did it also

-  I'm not doing another cold weather event for a very VERY long time

Can you see that sky in the background?! This picture just screams "COLD AS BALLS"

Thank you Becky for all the pictures. We forgot to get one of all four of us :(

Why this picture? Because Luke is awesome!!

Last year I did Tough Mudder (missing some pictures of course) with a really screwed up clavicle and 5 complete strangers. The event was in the middle of the summer in August. I had such a good time bonding and supporting my team of strangers that I thought it would be a fantastic event to organize with a tight group like Connected in Motion. That was under the assumption that it would be held in August again. Much to my dismay the date for the event would be spring. The thought of being soaking wet the entire time in the cold was enough to make me want to cut off my own arm so I wouldn't have to do it. This is Ontario and weather is unpredictable. Last weekend it was in the mid 20’s (Celsius) and ridiculously beautiful. Wouldn't you know that come the weekend of Tough Mudder it was calling for mighty cold and miserable weather. Included with that we were down to 3 people on our team which was a colossal disappointment to me. It would have been 4 but our dear Becky has been laid up in an air cast for months due to a foot injury. I give super huge kudos to her though for spending the day with us cheering from the sidelines and hobbling around with a camera!

Pre mudder. Waiting for the bus and totally frozen already

The course for this year

What’s it like? So many people have asked me.

My immediate answer is “MISERY”. Why would anybody ever want to do this? I wondered that myself even up until today. I know it’s about teamwork and camaraderie. It’s about helping your friends and strangers. It’s about just getting through it as a combined unit. We did that but my brain still wanted to cut my own arm off to get out of it all the way through.

I had a great time last August when it was SUMMER. Being soaking wet and muddy was nothing as long as I was warm. I hesitated when registering a team for this year when I found out it would be in May instead of August. The forecast was cloudy with a high of cold. Seriously. The temp hovered around maybe 10C (50F). Ryan had a brilliant idea and we got shorty wet suits to wear under our clothes.

I won’t lie. I was uncomfortably cold the entire time give or take a few moments when the sun came out. I didn't want to pussy out.  You see It was myself, Ryan and CIM inspiration overload, LUKE! This man’s laugh alone can brighten up any situation. He’s pretty much always cheery and full of motivation. At one point Ryan and I both said we would walk down that hill and leave if it weren't for Luke pushing us on.

The obstacles aim at getting you as wet and muddy as possible. I fell off the monkey bars into the frigid water yet at the same time I willingly jumped off the 20 foot high ledge. Half way through Ryan and I were nothing short of PERMANENTLY FUCKING FREEZING. The thought of another water obstacle was enough for us to avoid the rest and just complete the course. We did a fair bit of running which made me laugh since I don’t run any more but it kept me slightly warmer than freezing. Eventually all my muscles felt like blocks of concrete and I could barely move them enough to walk never mind run.

I had on both compression shorts and a tank under my wetsuit and a tshirt and pants on top of it all. I ripped the bum out of my pants at some point while sliding down a muddy hill. Another time it took me a good 10 minutes just to use the port-a-potty trying to get undressed and redressed with hands so frozen I couldn't operate a zipper. The thought of just peeing in the wetsuit was an option I chose not to partake in mainly because I had expensive compression clothes underneath. I'm sure it would have been warm for a few minutes but not at the risk of stinking like pee.

Only one last ski hill to climb, I can't wait for it to be over.

Was there any good? Well sort of. I mean at some point you have to look at the situation and wonder how mad we could all be. Cold, wet and hypothermic. Could that be safe at all? It crossed the line from crazy and fun to stupid and unsafe for us. I enjoyed the team aspect and helping others get out of muddy tunnels and over 12’ walls. I am proud of our little team CIM. Moments like watching Ryan do a full on back flip off the ledge into the muddy water or Luke manning up and slinking through the electric eel but I wouldn't do it again. There were smiles amongst the shivers and I love my friends for keeping me going.

That's right I thiefed pics off the site. $30/picture? I don't fucking think so!

This would be us coming through the electric shock at the end. I don't know how many times I got zapped but I sure as hell didn't like it.

Diabetes? Meh. It managed okay. Last year I was pumping and carried a small backpack with my meter bits in a water tight case. This year I had no meter and no insulin on my person the entire time. Luke unplugged from his pump and we both sort of went at it completely blind. I had a couple gels shoved in a pocket and Luke had an apothecary worth of Dex. They either had bananas or clif bars at the aid stations. Thanks to celiac I avoided the clif bars and ate a banana and a gel the entire time. I did not adjust my Lantus or Rapid. I never went low. The plan was to rendezvous with Becky to test and/or give insulin if need be but sadly the course wasn't conducive to that. When I finished, my beeg was 14.2mmol/l (255mg/dl) which I was totally okay with. Luke, on the other hand, was greeted with a 31.7mmol/l (570mg/dl). The perils of being on a pump, he was without basal insulin for way too long. Plus it’s a long day and y’know, we get hungry! Originally I had intended to find a way to carry a pre-loaded syringe but that would also require being able to test. In conclusion, Tough Mudder makes diabetes really… uhm… TOUGH. Everything from pumps to meters to fast acting sugars have to be somehow safe from water and mud.

Huge massive heart felt thank you goes to Luke for being an incredible inspiration. Thank you also to Becky for being tough enough to still come. Lastly, to Ryan for the wetsuit idea. We still froze but without the wetsuits we probably would have outright died.

I wouldn't do it again. Not unless it was in the summer and friends were more reliable. Ryan and I used the gopro until it died so we will have a video up soon. 

Springbank Crit and the tale of diabetes failure

Ryan would say: This is a "Stephen King" post because it's so long.

As a diabetic and an athlete there are so many things that can go wrong. More things can go wrong than right and that's especially true in a race. We strive to prove to the world that “we can do this”. Despite diabetes, we can do anything you can. Being on Team Type 1 taught me the importance of fighting the stereotypes surrounding type 1 diabetes. Although it takes extra work, quantum mechanics and sharp stabby things, with knowledge and understanding we can do whatever someone without diabetes can do. Or so that's the goal.

Most of the time.

Sometimes that’s not always the case. I've never had diabetes directly sabotage a race for me (except my marathon of course) until this past Sunday. It’s taken me a few days just to accept that yes, I can blame diabetes.

Let me take you through the motions…. Everything was normal...... diabetes is a fucking prick.

There, those are the motions!

Okay, okay I’ll explain. The days leading up to the race I ate and trained exactly as I always have. Boring. I ate no more, no less, no different from the usual. Boring. Our race started at 11:30 and I picked up my teammate and friend, Shelly, and we were there by 10am. Breakfast was the same as every other day of my life (boring) and was consumed with a bit less insulin than usual at 8:00am. Lantus was injected as normal at 8:30am. No adjustments made because the race was only an hour long and it was a crit. That means it would be all out power for an hour which typically drives my beeg up a little since it’s somewhat anaerobic.

It was the most beautiful day! 20mins warm-up on the trainer and 20mins before the start of the race I was down to 4.3mmol/l (77mg/dl). For fucksakes it was like a repeat of the race two weeks ago. Well, at Calabogie I drank a juice box and had stable BG’s the whole race. Why should this time be any different? Because it’s fucking diabetes and fucking diabetes is un-fucking-predictable. FUCK. I ate 2 packages of rockets (smarties for you American folks) at a combined 17g of carbs. Then ¾ of a banana (because the last ¼ was brown and mushy gross). I was expecting this to drive my blood sugar to a higher-than-comfortable range. I was also expecting this would make my stomach upset. I'll never learn that nothing with diabetes can be "expected".

It was a 2.2km circuit at 14 laps. A crazy fast downhill at the start and back stretch where we easily reached 40+km/h. Followed by an ass busting short hill and a gradual riser back to the flat start/finish straight away. The whole thing was quite narrow given it's a recreational trail and I found that terrifying. After the first lap I knew it was probably going to be a bust for me. My legs felt like concrete. I wasn't comfortable being in a tight field and had trouble owning my confidence. I stayed in the back where I felt I had space. Something wasn't right though and I could feel my reflexes were delayed. My brain wasn't firing and I felt somewhat alien. My stomach was upset also. I kept losing the field at the hills and then hammering back on essentially gassing myself on every lap because there was no recovery. By the 6^th lap I was still pedalling with blocks for legs and intentionally fell off the back and let go of the field.

Looking back, every lap after that was increasingly dragging and difficult. Finally on my second last lap my world collapsed. Sights were over-exposed. Sunlight was piercing and at the same time I was getting tunnel vision. Holy fuck was I ever low. How I didn't notice it early in the race is beyond me. It’s so easy to mistake a hypo for race nerves and adrenaline. I assumed it was just a bad day on the bike. I shoved a date in my mouth but I was already too low to chew. I rode past where my car was before heading through the start/finish but chose to fall over where there were people. I was panicked and scared. I worried that I couldn't fix myself. I unclipped at the first sign of grass I could find which happened to be the wheel pit. I dragged my bike onto the grass and collapsed while still trying to make my mouth chew. I worked my way through the 3 dates I had with me. I couldn't open my eyes because all I saw was blackness. A team mate I had met a couple weeks ago sat beside me and kept me company. He didn't even have to say anything (I couldn't talk any way). It was reassuring even if he didn't really know what to do. This was one of those times where there were only 2 or 3 people there that knew I was diabetic and one was in the middle of a race.

Time passed as I came to. I didn't remember getting where I was. I felt like I woke up in a dream (or from a nightmare to find out it was real). By the time I got back to my car I was only up to 2.4mmol/l (43mg/dl). My blood sugar continued to tank OVER AND OVER for the next 2 hours. I can only imagine how low I was during that race. I wonder what would have happened if I tried to finish that last lap? I rode the whole race low. I assumed I took a DNF but either they took pity on me or it was a glitch in the system, they didn't give me a DNF.

It shook me for the rest of the day. I was hypo-hungover until Monday night. I cried and cursed and let the emotional trauma get the better of me. I didn't do anything wrong but why did I tank? Just a bad diabetes day? Did my pancreas suddenly start making insulin? Had I injected magical insulin? It’s over and there’s no way to know. I just HATE saying, “diabetes fucked my race”. A race I was looking so forward to and one I knew I could do better at.

We had 5 of our girls in this race. Whenever I looked up I saw the 4 NovoFIT kits up in front working together as a team. In the end, they dominated the podium and I couldn't be more proud to be wearing the same colours! Even though I did nothing to get them there.

Danielle, Sandra and Shelly taking the show!

As for me? I guess I’ll live to race another day with this diabetes prick in tow.

One last quote. Words of wisdom from an old team mate, (Thank you Becky)

“being waaaaaay low is a whole 'nother animal. It's not about how strong you are. It's biology. If you don't have sugar to use for fuel, and your body is devoting it's efforts to just dropping hormones so you don't die from an ugly low, you can't race. It would be like saying your car is a piece of crap because it won't start when there is no gas in the tank. Your car could be a freaking (insert cool car here, I don't know, I drive a Cobalt), but it wouldn't matter. You're not copping out. You're being honest about the reality of what your body CAN do.”

Sometimes it really helps ease the frustration when you look at the bigger picture. Thanks Becky and for the record, I drive a Honda Fit. Not a very “cool” car either.

Riding the crazy train out of Drugville

My collection of anti-nausea meds

Many of you know that I struggle with anxiety, depression  and panic attacks. I also know many out there who struggle right along with me and can sympathize with me when I say, “I want off the drugs.”

I’ve written about it enough so the details are rather unimportant at this point. However, at this stage in my life, the curiosity of being drug-free is just too strong to avoid.

I want off the drugs or at least on a lower dose. This is my choice. There are two parts for this. Firstly, is cost. This shit is expensive yo. One day I will be without benefits so why not start figuring it out now? Secondly I truly feel I’m ready to peek around the corner to see what will happen to me without the safety of psychotropic drugs.

There are different kinds of anti-depressants. I’m on the shit that you get when nothing else works and this shit is harsh. Trying to wean off of it is akin to withdrawing from heroin I read somewhere. I started this journey about 6 months ago when I made my first reduction in dose. It was rocky but do-able. I tried again a couple weeks later and hit a wall of anxiety even I couldn’t see over so I went back up. Two weeks ago I dropped again for the second attempt. Nothing noticeable for about a week and then all of a sudden, “WHOOP”. I slid down an oiled slide lined with tacks.

Do you know what it’s like to not understand anything that’s going on? It was like this, I felt FUCKED UP! I had waves of nausea that would last on and off all day often flooring me in bed choking back enough Gravol to put me in a mild coma. My legs would ache and twitch. I felt as dumb as a pile of dog poop. Covered in dumb flies. I couldn’t seem to get my brain to function. It was on and off but for the most part I was dizzy and fuzzy. I had vertigo at times. Other times an overwhelming sense of fatigue would hit me like an anvil. I question how I even managed to brush my teeth or drive my car. It wasn’t bad all the time, just most of the time one or many of these symptoms was overwhelming me.

I kept wondering and questioning everything that was going on until it occurred to me to do a little googling. Ahhh, Dr.Google pretty much assured me that what I was going through was the withdrawal from the drugs. It took about a week being on the smaller dose before the symptoms hit and HARD they did slowly getting worse day by day.

Thanks CIM for the flat surface!

 The other night I was so stricken with nausea that Gravol wasn’t helping. I opened up a capsule and swallowed ¼ of the granules with some peanut butter. Desperate times call for desperate measures. All that was missing was a mirror and a razor blade. I felt guilty like I fell off the wagon. Just one more little hit to take the edge off, I was thinking. I couldn’t stand the feeling any more. I needed a slight reprieve. Like a smoker trying to quit or an alcoholic in AA, “Just one puff or just one sip!”

There is life after psychotropic drugs. I did a lot of research. I started taking strong doses of a really expensive Omega 3 supplement which helped with the fuzzy stupid brain symptoms. I’ve noticed an immediate difference in my ability to focus. The nausea is what it is, I keep taking Gravol when I feel sick and managing with eating less and drinking ginger tea the rest of the time. Otherwise I’ve gone and split some capsules up in an effort to lower the dose granule by measly granule. I’ll take a bit more for a few days and then remove the wee little balls.

I don’t deny that perhaps I will be on drugs the rest of my life. I don’t deny that maybe there’s an imbalance in my brain that is beyond my control but for now, I need to see how low I can go while still feeling normal. The drugs served their purpose for the past few years. I know I've had anxiety and depression issues my whole life and diabetes exacerbates it. I am not insinuating I won't need some medications to stabilize that forever. It's a mental imbalance and its probably permanent. I just feel my life has had a huge positive change so it’s time to re-evaluate. This train out of Drugville is certainly full of crazy.

Switching gears in the blog world for a HAPPIER life

I'm going to add in a different aspect to my blog and I'm not sure how it's going to work out yet.

Ryan and I are working on our life together. We've been constantly crossing paths with the idea of minimalism for quite some time now. It keeps sneaking it's way into our lives on a constant basis. It's like all trails lead here. Today is his birthday and he wanted to introduce this as his birthday gift. See below the word vomit for our first video.

We came across this way of living when we met. We instantly knew that we wanted to spend more time together. Work days were long and sometimes we had to spend a day apart and that made us miserable. Our lives were now one and all we wanted was the company of each other. How can we be together more? That was always the question. We worked out together and we spent the night at each other's places as often as we could without annoying our room mates. The days of work were long apart, too long even. He was working as a finish carpenter and was gone for up to 12 hours a day with all the commuting and such. I'm still gone almost as much because I commute far to work.

Ryan is the love of my life. I love him more and more each day. We make each other happy and that's what we want more than anything else. To be together and be happy.

We got our little cabin in the city. A 1-bed apt that is cheap yet not exactly spacious. We scaled back on our belongings. We really began evaluating our lives and what we want out of them. How can we have more time to do the things we love? Finding a cheaper way to exist for one. How can we live on less? That was the question that spawned it all. The less we need, the less we need to make and the more time we have for US.

Ryan has been able to achieve that dream quicker than I. Unfortunately, I'm in a difficult situation in my life right now. I have medical benefits through my job and without those benefits diabetes costs me far too much to pay out of pocket. I know I can look into the Ontario Trillium Program but for now I'm stocking up on all the stuff I need. I also have hellishly high insurance rates for when I crashed my car and was at fault for it. My insurance is the reason I initially had to sell my house.

I'm in a bit of a rough spot right now. I can't afford to downsize. I'm also in a bit of a fucked up place mentally because of what I did to get to where I am. I went to school and got a diploma in order to get a good paying job with a great company. I've worked many years in this industry and have no desires to climb the corporate ladder. Now that I have that good 40h/week job with benefits, I'm not sure it's what I want. I don't take my job very seriously. It's hard when I truly don't feel like I'm doing anything good for any body drawing up big fuck off houses that people don't need. It morally confuses me and I can honestly say I don't agree with it.

I'm ranting, I know.

Ultimately what we want is to work less and be with each other more. Fuck retirement when we're too old to enjoy it. You may be thinking, "yeah but isn't that what we ALL want?" Well duh, world, of course that's what we all want. This is different though. What we are trying to do is not have that need for the "stuff" in the first place. By living with less, we need less.

There will be much more to come in due time on this topic. Ryan and I are really passionate about starting a minimalist movement. We're calling it "The Less is More Project" and we invite you to follow our journey. Through our respective blogs (Ryan's blog), YouTube page and our spanking new "Less is More Project" Facebook page.

And by all means, let us know what you think! We have a shit ton of cool ideas to blog and video about as well as some rather.... interesting challenges we're giving ourselves. Including a tour of our cabin in the city eventually. We're open to tips and tricks and hack ideas to live a life of less. We will have tons to share over the coming months and are really hoping to build a community.

As promised, here is our first video. I think it's kind of retarded - actually I just think I'm a total fucktard in it but whatevs. I wasn't feeling well. We did it rather unrehearsed and with no real script so bear with us while we figure out how to make ourselves look sexier in video. Perhaps staring into the sun wasn't a wonderful idea.



I hope you will enjoy following us on this journey to less.

Also, because I mentioned it in the video here is the George Carlin bit about "stuff".

Calabogie Classic Race Report

The days leading up to this race were pretty horrible. Ryan was down with the exorcist flu. Explosive purging from both ends constantly. I left work early to take him to the ER. The next day I took off work to take care of him. He was wasted. Little did we know it would be 5 more days before he was able to hold anything down. You can read his story HERE if you can handle it, that is. I had eaten VERY little over the days he was so sick. I had no appetite at all. The drive out to Calabogie was beyond strenuous. Ryan was insistent that he still come and we spent way too many hours in the car. He writhed in discomfort in my passenger seat. We had rented a house with 4 other team mates but spent the entire evening in bed which was a bummer because we were with some rad peeps! Ryan was doing so-so but I wasn't great at all. I had a really nasty anxiety attack mixed with painful sinuses and a fever. 

The next morning was not looking promising for me. I didn't want to race. I drank NO coffee *GASP* and only managed to choke back a few spoonfuls of oatmeal. I had next to no fuel in my system and I was quite dehydrated before the race started. I reduced my bolus to half and took my regular Lantus as scheduled. I was racing at 9am which is a good time for me because I'm so insulin resistant at that time. Wouldn't you know this is the one day where things would change? 

Shelly and I warming up

It was stinking cold for an April race. I warmed up for a bit on my trainer in the parking lot and 15 min before we were to line up my beeg was at 3.8mmol/l (68mg/dl). For fucksake man. I unwillingly drank a juice box and we were off before I knew it.

This race is fucking rad. It's on a closed 5km circuit race track (for cars). I think the track looks like a dinosaur riding a scooter. It's mostly flat but I argue with that now because it was not mostly flat. My goal for this race was that I had no goal. Ride it, love it, don't take it seriously. I knew I was coming down with something. I was dehydrated and empty of fuel. I was worried about Ryan still being sick after all these days. 

The field of women consisted of a few categories. There were maybe 30 of us. We did 11 laps of the 5km circuit. No one was allowed to ride the circuit before the race so we were cruising at an easy pace. For the first time ever I moved around in the pack. I even broke free on the outside of a corner and whipped myself into a better position. I wasn't hanging on to the back for dear life riding the accordion like usual. I couldn't quite figure out what was different about this race. Were they going slower overall? there's no way my fitness could have improved. I didn't train all week. Whatever it was it felt wonderful. Exhilarating. I learned a few important tips. Firstly, never get too comfortable in a group. You have to be ON at every moment, there is no such thing as relaxing. Keeping an eagle eye on the wheels in front of you and hands hovering over the brakes. Communication is key and I saw a lot of girls making their moves be known. I also need to learn to be comfortable enough to take in nutrition and water while racing in a pack. It's just so nerve wracking sometimes!

Then somewhere around the 5th or 6th lap something horrific happened. We were on a slight incline and it happened so quick. Someone caught tires in the middle of the pack and took out a shit ton of girls. I was behind and to the right so I managed to avoid the carnage. At one point in my peripheral vision I saw a white frame go flying into the air and a body being tossed even higher. There were screams mixed with the sounds of scraping carbon fibre. It slowed me down for a second and I panicked. My first instinct was to get off my bike and go help but this was a race. There was a pace car behind us and an ambulance in the parking lot. 

The front half of the pack carried on as if nothing happened. They don't dare look back. 3 of us were left avoiding the crash and suddenly found ourselves having to chase back on. Just at the biggest uphill on the whole route. The two other girls eventually caught back on and I watched them for a long fucking time. I tried as hard as I could. I hammered it on the downhill (my strength) but just couldn't do it. My brain was not  agreeing with my legs. I looked down at my legs and said, "Go faster dammit!" I told them to turn the cranks quicker but they did not. They were gassed and so my race was over. It was now time to just settle in as a lonely single time trial. 

Lonely ride, beautiful scenery

I was pretty fucking pissed to be honest. I spent half the race comfortable with the field knowing I could finish with them so long as I stayed there. That crash was horrible. They called the air ambulance in and took one of the girls away in a helicopter. I'm grateful I wasn't in it and to be real, THAT'S what scares me about bike racing. THAT'S why I often don't have the balls to move around in the pack. Even though I know it's safer up front I don't have the power for that. When I passed Ryan he said, "You're not last!". I repeated that for the whole next lap because I thought he was shitting me.

On what I thought was the last lap a girl caught up to me. She asked if I was the leader which promptly caused me to laugh and snort. She had been caught up in a minor kerfuffle at the start line and rode the whole thing solo. We pulled over to the side only to find out we still had a lap to go! We both said "I ain't gettin' no fucking DNF today!" and off we went. By this point there was nothing left. We rode the whole lap chatting side by side. The spectators were all gone and we called it a recovery lap. Ryan was left waiting for me with my camera so she suggested we do a fake sprint. All in good fun.

Our fake sprint finish

I came in 5th in my category which consisted of only 9 ladies. I joked and said, "I bet the 4 behind me were either involved in the crash or DNF'd". I couldn't see how I wasn't the last one. Sure enough I was. Meh. Just call me DFL, Dead Fucking Last.

Overall, it was a damn good time. 45 minutes and half the race with the field was worth it. Today is Monday though and I'm sick in bed with what seems to be a sinus infection. I raced with this yesterday and now I don't feel so bad because I really felt like crap while racing. I was totally stoked about my performance and how much I enjoyed it. I had an average moving speed of 29.3kph (18.2mph) and that includes the bottom half of the race that I was doing solo and had slowed down so much for. 

My beeg was sitting at 4.2mmol/l post race. I knew it was a bit low because the hunger was intense. It shot up a bit post race as it usually does but I kicked it with a few units of insulin and rode out the rest of the day in blood sugar nirvana. A win in the diabetes world.

Thank you Ryan for taking so many awesome pictures with my camera and for being an incredible trooper. Congrats Shelly for wining first in our category!

Clif, the second love of my life

Dear Clif,

You have been sustaining my adventures for over a decade. Filling my belly when animals steal my food bag on a camping trip. Bringing me up from lows and preventing them. So easily portable and mighty fucking tasty. Without Ryan, I would be an empty shell of a human being dead inside but without Clif I'd be eating other more inferior brands of energy bars.

Once I bought a case (or two) of the Carrot Cake flavour bar and to this day I still can't imagine putting another one in my mouth. I over dosed and swore I would never do that again. Clif bars were a staple on every camping trip and during my ventures in Asia. Now I use the bars, the gels and the blocks.

I was recently sent a few new bars to sample. I received the White Chocolate Macadamia and the Coconut Chocolate Chip. Now I know these flavours are not new to most but in Canada where everything is eons behind the rest of the world they are. I buy the White Chocolate Macadamia ones when I'm across the border in the states because they are so fucking delicious but - surprise - weren't available in Canadaland.

I will also point out that Clif bars are not reeeeeally gluten free. I'm sure my guts revolt but I can't tell because they are kind of in perma-revolt. Maybe if I stopped eating things like this I would notice a difference. Bah humbug! I don't eat them often, usually for cycling and camping. Clif bars are kind of really big carb bombs so if I'm not doing something active I can expect insane BGs.

SO... I had the Coconut Chocolate Chip in the middle of a ride.

Pure deliciousness in my books. Coconut AND something chocolate? yes please!

What a Clif bar should look like with the swirly chocolate goodness.

The White Chocolate Macadamia travelled serious distances in my jersey pockets. I carried it on many rides. It sat in my car for weeks as I secretly hoped for a moment of BG neediness but the timing never happened. Finally last week at work I dug it out of my bag. It was totally flattened and squished. I literally said, "Ah fuck it, I'm just going to eat it now." Partially because it looked so sad!

Getting my massive amount of insulin ready for the carb bomb.

Pancake Clif. DELICIOUSNESS none the less! Thanks to the over-bolus my beeg did not skyrocket.

I know I should quit eating them. They don't have flour in them but they do have barley malt extract since they have rice crispie things in them. I'm sure it does more damage to my insides than good but fuck, there just isn't a tasty gluten free equivalent that I like out there.

Upon re-reading this several times I really think it's time for me to break up with Clif. It's not going to be easy but really, the unseen but totally felt gastrointestinal damage is probably not worth it. Fuck Celiac Disease!!! dammit.

I'm still stoked that these flavours are finally available in Canada though.

April 12 of 12

It's that time again!

Today was special. I took the day off work ahead of time for... well... you'll see.

1. It was a "LOW" kind of morning (after a middle of the night low).

2. Saying goodbye to Ryan as he left for work. Normally I'm always the one out of the house first. Watching him leave is the worst part of my day.

3. I went back to bed to lounge and drink more coffee.

4. Cooked up some of my super Scully burn-your-throat ginger tea. I make batches of this super concentrated tea and then freeze it into ice cubes. Between Ryan's gastritis and my always unhappy stomach this is the shit. 2 ice cubes in a mug of hot water eases whatever ails us.

5. I'm doing another daily prompt thing on Flickr and today's prompt is "shoes". I hate shoes. I hate hate HATE THEM! I hate them so much! I am barefoot whenever I possibly can be.

7. Another one bites the dust.

8. Watering "Eddie", the money tree. So far it has produced no money. I'm starting to think this thing is a scam. I've kept him alive for like 6 years, how much longer?

9. I had a crazy leg workout the night before (future blog post to come on my new leg workout) so I did some rolling with the best fucking roller EVER!

10. On my way to the reason I booked the day off work. We are going to a birthday party tomorrow night and were asked to bring a round of cocktails. Neither I nor Ryan drink and I felt like a weirdo in the liquor store. I was lost.

11. So this is what I justify booking a day off work for. It's not for everyone, I understand that. I'm working on finishing my sleeve and the bottom half is already done.

12. Hi MUM! Don't kill me! I know you don't adore my skin art but I hope you still love me! I swear I won't say "this is it!" any more.

It's just the line work right now and the shading and colouring will come in due time. I'm pretty stoked about how it's going to turn out. Giddy actually to see the complete arm sleeve. The artist doing it is also loving the oddity of my choice of design which is a good sign that I've got something outside of the walls of normal. We all know how much I strive to be non-conforming.

May 12, it'll be here soon. Hopefully so will some warmer weather.

Insulin needed

A beautiful Sunday the weather said. The temperature was finally going to be in the double digits! (well in the  50's F) Ryan and I went out for an intended casual ride. One of the beauties (downfalls?) to living where we do is that in order to get anywhere to ride, an escarpment needs to be climbed. We rode the long gradual hill out of town and into the country roads. We rode it with an insane headwind. A quick break at the top for a snacky-poo and a BG check.

Before I left the house I had slightly elevated blood sugars but ate only eggs for breakfast. Nothing I was overly surprised at. I would have normally taken a bit of insulin for that but because of the impending ride I chose to forgo an injection. Right before we left I hoovered a home made gluten free chocolate chip cookie faster than you can say Cookie Monster. So at the top of the hill my BG was sitting in the 10's (180's). I was hungry but decided to wait for my BG to come down a bit more before eating. Surely it would come down. 15km's later of rollers and headwind so hard it nearly stopped us from moving forward I definitely wanted to eat and had earned it dammit. BG still in the 10's and no insulin on me.

I left the house without my insulin pen because I simply forgot. I'm not used to riding on injections much less outdoors. My pump was always with me regardless so there was no remembering involved. My BG usually always drops while riding which allows me the ability to eat without taking any insulin. Not this time. I stayed stubbornly in the 10's. We stopped at one point and I was abso-fucking-lutely famished. I had with me in my jersey a PB and honey sammich on GF bread, a Clif bar, a GU and a package of blocks. I couldn't have any of it. I couldn't risk the high BG while out riding. I feel the icky affects of high blood sugar at 14 or 15mmol/l (250-270mg/dl). I was only 5'ish mmol away from feeling like a pile of ass.

Here's the conundrum, you'd think that since exercise lowers blood sugar that I could eat whatever I felt like and the riding would be my natural insulin. I am still a human and an athlete just like any other non-diabetic and that means I still need fuel for exercise. I need energy. But I had no insulin (very VERY sad face) which meant I couldn't eat without dire consequences.

Even half the Clif bar or a couple bites of the PB sammich would have sent my blood sugar soaring. What are my options? Sickly high BG's and unable to ride or hungry and empty gas tank unable to ride? They are both evils and I chose to just be hungry and empty (and slow).

Disgruntled stomach and an empty tank

We stopped at the cafe for a soup bowl sized coffee before heading home. I tested my blood and was chanting, "please be low, please be low". It was up to 11.4mmol/l (205mg/dl) I drank my coffee but it made my stomach even more unhappy.

By the time we got home I was nothing short of a wreck. It was a casual and easy 50km ride (with some wind that felt like walls) but on an empty tank that sucks nanny goats. I felt like absolute shit. The rest of my day was pretty much a write off to boot as ye olde body attempted to recover from the deluge of shit I put it through. My digestive system sucks to begin with so to throw this into the mix was fucking crap.

I thought about popping into a drug store and buying a vial of insulin and a handful of syringes on the ride. Between Ryan and I we only had $25 on us. Not enough (more sad face). I began looking at things and thinking, are there any carbs in that? Maybe I'll gnaw on some sticks or suck on some of that old dead brown grass from last fall. I was already riding and my BG wasn't showing any signs of levelling off so exercise clearly wasn't going to help.

I swear I'll never take that trusty insulin for granted ever again and I'll never forget it on a ride.

I'm glad I managed this awesome photo of Ryan riding Frankenbike.

migraines

What? You don't sit in meetings doodling a "migraine"?

I don’t know if it’s the glasses, the weather or what but it’s annoying. By the time I notice it’s presence, it’s too late. I take an Advil and hope that today, ibuprofen works. Sometimes it doesn't and it’s an acetaminophen craving migraine. I wait a good 45 minutes to an hour to find out which its going to be today. All the while I've shut my blinds and I'm squeezing my head non-stop with my fingers. I let my hair down out of it’s pony tail and contemplating pulling my hoodie up. My stomach is upset and I have no choice but to

continue working.

Staring at all these coloured lines on a black screen zooming in and out and panning all around makes things hella worse. I can’t just go to a cold dark room, I'm at work. Though the refrigerated server room is mighty tempting. Everything is sensory overload. Office noises like the sound of the copy machine beeping and whirring. The phone ringing and I have to answer it. People mussing about and talking.  The traffic on the highway outside. It’s like nails being jammed into my eyeballs, especially the fluorescent lights. I want to put my head into a vice because THAT would probably feel better than this. Oh migraines, they are a regular part of my days lately and I can’t stand it.

I don’t get the puke crazy migraines but it’s been close when I let it go too far. I get long lasting ones. They hang around for days on end. I set my alarm to take Advil or Tylenol on an almost hourly basis.

What is it from?

Often times (or so I thought) it was due to weather. I get them particularly bad in the fall and spring. I also feel like its my piss poor vision. I don’t see well with my glasses. I also don’t see well with contacts and I'm blind without either. I wear glasses as the lesser of two evils but I really hate them.

In two months I'm having laser eye surgery and I am desperately curious to see if I suffer fewer migraines. Desperately hoping more like it.

Until then… another hour, another pill.

Fix me

Doctor's appointments seem to come in droves. I think I've had 6 in the past couple weeks alone. It's good to get it all out of the way for awhile. This body of mine is high maintenance y'all. Half my face is numb tonight from the dentist but my teeth are fixed. I am booked to have laser eye surgery in a couple months and then my eyes will be fixed. Lastly, endo stress is over with for a couple months. If only they could fix my useless pancreas.

It bums me out that a 6.4% A1C is still bold and indicating an abnormally high result. Never-the-less it's a lovely sight for my sore eyes at least. I giggled a bit when he pointed out with concern my fasting BG of 9.1mmol/l (164mg/dl). I didn't say it but I was thinking, dude I test my fasting BG every single fucking morning of my life. I happened to have a low earlier that morning is what I really said.

I'm about to admit something that makes me a mis-behaved diabetic. I don't give a flying shit about fasting for my quarterly blood work. *GASP*. If I have a low at any point in the evening or during the night I still go in the morning. I put back a big fat coffee too. With cream. I save my breakfast till after, that's about all. Call it rebellious, I really don't care. It's enough of a thorn in my side (a needle in my vein?) to even get fasting blood work without it totally screwing up my work schedule. So fuck it.

The rest of the appointment was totally uneventful which was nice. All the rest of my lab results came back great. My cholesterol, for the first time since being diagnosed, was in the normal range. Thank you diabetes for the high cholesterol requiring the use of more life-long statins.

For those on ADP (Assisted Devices Program) I did find a bit more out. See, I receive a cheque from the government every 3 months for pump supplies. I didn't know how long I would be bumping around with MDI so I took my recent cheque and bought more pump supplies. I've got a really big pile of supplies now. I'm thinking I should sell them on the black market. Vials of insulin? Surely those could go for a few bucks. Any way... he told me to keep doing what I'm doing and buying pump supplies with them. When I decide that MDI is semi-permanent or permanent for me I simply notify the government to put a hold on my cheques. He said if I choose to go back on the pump he will fill out an application but I don't have to go through the whole rigmarole process like in the beginning.

Hey, pssst... get your pump supplies here! ahem, just kidding. Maybe. No really, uhm.

SO... that sexy new A1C may not be entirely accurate. I was 6.5% 3 months ago but switched to MDI 2 months ago. With all the adjusting I've had quite the many lows. I'm kind of aggressive with my insulin. Just the other night I had 3 lows in one evening followed by waking up every other hour low all night long. I digress, that doesn't happen all the time. It's a work in progress but yes, 6.4% reflects a lot of lows I'm sure. I could get really used to that number though.

The only thing bothering me is my weight. I don't feel fat. I don't think I look fat either but the scale screams something different. I'm hiding some seriously heavy stuff but I don't know where it is! I don't know how it's possible but I can't ignore that number, can I? My body has changed a lot in the past few months. The lack of stress from no longer being on Team Novo Nazi has bode me well. I lost stress weight or re-distributed it or something. I'm confused. Have I got iron bones or something? I'm well aware that having a lower A1C for about 6 months means weight gain is imminent. Plus the lows. I just don't know where I'm hiding it because I don't SEE it.

Good Friday Road Race

I'm going to do it.
I'm not going to do it.
Maybe I'll do it.
No, definitely not going to do it.
Well.... maybe.
NO.
Fine... fuck I'll do it.



This was the thought process starting many weeks before the Good Friday Road Race.  I was without a bike to train on for 7 weeks over the winter. Valuable indoor trainer time that I could have used. The mother fucking winter was (and still is) relentless and I just hate cold weather riding. I had many excuses to not race. A lot of which were centred around the fact that I just wasn't ready or strong enough.

Bike racing is very much in a world of it's own. It's not like a running race. Once you're dropped from the field the race is pretty much over. Last year of racing was my first year and it was pretty discouraging. Only one race did I like because it was the only one I stayed with the field for the entire thing.

Ryan, Chrysa and Becky did a whole lot of convincing to try and get me to race. It's the beginning of the season, they said. Look at it as a training ride, they said. So I listened. It didn't help my anxiety much because all I wanted was for the race to be over so my 3-day weekend could start!

It was a frosty morning. The races started in waves at 8:30am. The course was 4 laps of a 15km circuit with the start/finish/turn around through the fairgrounds. The route was mostly flat with lots of rollers. That's really my ideal type of road. The field was a decent size. Maybe about 30 ladies. There were a bunch of categories all crammed into one field. I had 2 team mates with me but only Shelly was in my category. I can't keep up with her in my dreams never mind reality so I couldn't work with her. I learned a valuable lesson from another girl as we were getting ready to roll out that apparently chamois cream freezes. A thought I don't want to imagine again.

This is how excited I was to be with the field.

The air horn goes off and we head out. I could feel my body shaking from the cold mixed with my nerves. I tried really hard to just not take it seriously to calm myself down. I immediately chose a position towards the back of the field not out of choice but because it's just where I ended up. I tried many times to zip up the side but I was too afraid to cross over the yellow line which is an automatic DQ.

The feeling of riding in a group again was blissful. The chatter and communication reminded me of good times. I love the sounds of the gears shifting and the tires on the road. It made me realize what I love about cycling and racing again. I was afraid to look down at my Garmin to see how much time or how many kms had passed but it felt like awhile. The field got away from me and I immediately thought, "well that's it for me". Then I hammered it and caught up which caused my inner child to smile. This happened a few times and each time I thought I was done for but surprised myself when I caught up. I stayed with the field for the entire first lap. The girls accelerated through the start/finish line and I began losing them again. I used all my might to keep with them. A few more kms down the road the distance between us began to grow and my hopes of catching diminished. I watched for a LONG time as the field up ahead slowly disappeared.

I rode the entire second lap on my own. I could feel my motivation waning. As I came through the turn around for the second time I called it quits. Ryan was there and trying to convince me to keep going. In retrospect I should have listened.

Wait... rewind. I'm on shots now. I took half of my breakfast bolus an hour before the race. My BG was sitting right where I wanted it to be. I was planning to take in some gels or blocks at the half way mark and just hoping that would do it. If I was on a pump I would have set a temp basal and not thought about it. On the first lap I lost a package of blocks to the road as they slipped out. Then on the second lap I lost a GU in the same fashion. My new kit doesn't have the sticky tight bits on the legs where I often cram things for easy access, ergo shit just fell out. Lesson learned. I still had a few chews in my jersey but that was it. I panicked.

Last year the race directors pulled riders who got dropped. I didn't want to get pulled and preferred to pull myself. I pulled myself. I quit when yeah, in retrospect I shouldn't have. They didn't pull anybody out of the race this year. There were a handful of girls who got dropped and there was a really good chance I could have caught up to them. I kicked myself and cursed for quitting. Yeah I was afraid of a low, I will admit that. I was also discouraged and upset that I "failed". It was my decision though and I'll live with it. I didn't want to take it seriously after all.

However the fact that I stayed with the field for 20'ish km surprises me - a lot! After a winter of crappy training and almost zero actual road riding I thought I was a lot weaker. It left me with a wee bit more confidence.

Cheering my team mates in for the final sprint.

My path to injections

I've been getting a lot of questions about my choice to go back to injections. Most of these connections are people I know. What's more surprising is they are all from friends who are currently pumping and now wondering how to go back to MDI. Although I didn't know what kind of affect MDI would have on me, I also didn't realize it would influence others. Of the people I've connected with, they all seem to be in the same boat. At the point of ripping that damn machine off or go crazy.

So here is more of what I've learned and the way I have been making it work.

First of all, you probably shouldn't do what I did. I didn't consult a single doctor or nurse or CDE. It never even occurred to me because I've never had a doc that was any good. I literally slid down the slide without a single regard. I like to experiment, what can I say? I DID write down all my pump settings. When I was on MDI 5 years ago I remember taking 24 units of Lantus once a day. This time I was going to split my Lantus in half to help reduce the insane amounts of nypos (thank you Bethany!) so I immediately started taking 12u at 12 hours apart. My pump was giving me 25 units of basal insulin per day so that seemed fair. It wasn't enough though and I was high all day. I bumped it up to 14, still high. Once more I went up to 16 units twice a day. I sat at this dose for awhile. I was having at least two really bad lows during the night every night so I  decreased my pm Lantus and now I take 12. I think it should be reduced to 10 but I prefer the lows over highs. If I've worked out hard that evening I may reduce it to 10 but more often I'll just eat that night with little or no bolus. If I am going to do a hard long workout during the day I'll reduce my am dose by 4 units.

Boluses (blouses?) are a completely different story. Other than breakfast, I rely on SWAGging (Scientific Wild Ass Guesses). My pump did all the calculating for me. I had my insulin to carb ratios at 3 different rates throughout the day. My pump was programmed so all I had to do was input my BG and the amount of carbs and voila! Magical bolus calculated right down to the .05th of a unit. I thought that was the way it goes. I had to re-train myself to do that math in my head. I don't do it in such detail though. I "dial-it-up" on my insulin pen and inject what I think is about right. Years of seeing my pump do it has ingrained a lot of that. I'm just not of the mindset to whip out my calculator. I'd have to figure out way too much and its more work than I care to do. 1 or 2 units is the option with a pen, not 1.75 units. I'm learning that it really doesn't matter that much (to me).

As for the psychological aspects, I feel oddly LESS stressed. I absolutely ADORE not being hooked up. I feel AMAZING. I truly believe all that extra stuff was complicating my diabetes management. I was putting too much emphasis on all the little things and not seeing the bigger picture. Pumping made it all-consuming and in-MY-face. I spend so much more time naked now! I still do a little dance around the apartment after a shower. There's a certain beauty to my love life that never existed before. I even ENJOY getting dressed and not putting a single thought into "where is my external pancreas going to go". This is especially obvious when getting into my cycling gear. It's a kind of freedom I took for granted before.

I used to think insulin pumps were the answer to my problems but it turns out they weren't. Well they were transitorily important (makes sense right?). All it took was for me to go ape shit crazy that I wanted that gadget to die. I fought for many years for an insulin pump. I saw it as my diabetes nirvana, my control mirage. For many years it WAS. It taught me so much that I was able to carry that knowledge forth to apply it to injection therapy. I am smarter for it. I was never able to get my 'betes under control the previous years of injections and that was from the lack of knowledge.

I can't say for sure but this may be it for me. The key to my diabetic comfort and confidence. I see my endo next week so I'll get a good idea the affect of the past 2 months of injections has had on my A1C. I feel good about it though. I do have far less stories to tell and junk for my blog. No more stories about dunking my pump in a hot tub or posts about kinked cannulas, clogged tubes, infected sites and empty reservoirs. Perhaps I'll write more about LIFE with diabetes than the diabetes itself.

As always YDMV (your diabetes may vary). This is MY experience only.