Post MCM IT Band 3 Mile Hell.

It's been nine days since HB and I finished the Marine Corp Marathon.  The tips of my toes are still numbly tingling, my knees continue to ache with every bend and my weight is still lower than it probably ought to be in spite of my excessive eating.  I feel like the world has been in slow motion ever since that mile 18 marker where each step became labored and each mile - now each day - seems longer than the last.  Obviously the change with daylight savings time can take some of the responsibility for this, but I have a hard time looking much farther than the tip of my nose for a better place to lay responsibility for my under-trained, over-stubborn pain.

I went into the Ortho yesterday - the beloved Dr. Hawken up in NOVA - and had him look at my knees.  Pleased to see I had zero swelling and to hear I've actually been stretching, he wasn't surprised to learn I finished the race or that I plan to continue my version of "short distance" running.  However, when HB outed me as having complained that my knees hurt worse during the marathon than the rest of me did giving birth to GV, Dr. Hawken narrowed his eyes and my options.  Identifying the non-aggressive approach as physical therapy and cortisone shots, he felt the boney structure of my knees once more and admitted the likelihood of continued pain following this treatment unless I were to wise up and pick a different sport.  Knowing me, as he does, he therefore recommended I skip the blood sugar chaos caused by cortisone, cut to the chase (ha) and go directly to the aggressive approach of surgery.

Explaining the details of a "release," Dr. Hawken outlined how he'd make a small incision and then punch a nickel sized hole in the IT Band to reduce friction at the knee.  Granted, surgery is surgery is surgery and shouldn't be taken lightly, but given the facts (my passion for running, the persistence of this pain and the permanence of this solution) and that he successfully fixed the carpal tunnel in both of my wrists in 2011 (not to mention HB's knee in 2012), I'm totally on board.  So sometime mid-December I'm going to have my right knee done and, once that is healed, I'm going to go back in the spring to do the left.

Course, in full knowledge of my current discomfort and what's in store for its remedy, I decided to give into my recent self-deprecating feeling of under-accomplishment (yes, post 26.2 miles I am feeling indolent) and go running with Team RWB tonight.  Having spent the past week hobbling stiffly like an injured grandma - if you can even call it that - and mentally whining my way from room to room, it shouldn't have been a surprise to me when less than ten steps into the 3 mile loop my knees went straight back to their rating of 12 on a 1-10 scale of pain... But since I didn't stop for the last 8 miles of the marathon, there was no way I was walking my head-lamp wearing self back to the car on my own to mope.

Hard not to feel motivated with these guys!! 

So, with HB's encouragement and the company of one very motivated RWB teammate, DN, I made it the full loop without stopping.  The last little bit I was able to kick up the speed a notch (logic: run faster, sit down sooner), but I know for darn sure that I am going to feel it tomorrow.   I am hoping to power through a 10k Turkey Trot and at least one more half marathon between now and the scalpel, so maybe by the will of God and perhaps a mix of my stubbornness and pain killers I'll get it done.  I'm already putting hopes of personal record (PR) times aside - which, if I am being completely honest, is very big of me.  I guess I am becoming nicer to me in my old age, go figure.

All for now.  BG is 107 and I'm going to bed.

Flooding

When it rains, it seriously pours here in Vermont!  I guess this is a weird year here in the Green Mountains with almost constant thunderstorms, but seeing as we're new and have no reference for whether this is abnormal or not, we're attempting to adjust, both literally and figuratively, to the torrential downpours and resulting flooding!

In hopes of keeping this place standing another 160 years, we had a structural engineer out to check out the house and give us a to-do list of what is absolutely necessary for stability.  Fortunately the buildings are in pretty good shape - note: this does not mean project free - and, with that good news under our belts, we were able to learn a lot of interesting tidbits about the historical construction, for example: many of the vertical support beams in our barn are original hand planed posts that were likely salvaged from another barn and brought in to construct this one before the main house in 1865; the flooring we discovered in the living room (and now the downstairs bedroom as well) is the original random plank wood flooring and it's in great condition; and the rubble foundation is unique for it's time because the rock size is markedly larger than most in the area due to the large field rocks used.

The dark patches around the rocks are
historic AND current water marks...

As happy as I am to learn these neat details and to have such historic charm oozing from every corner, this last bit of info about the foundation is actually structurally relevant rather than simply aesthetically pleasing... So old cellars in farm houses like this were purposefully designed to be porous so that the temperature would be lower and humidity higher to create a safe, natural food storage environment.  Some places, apparently, even cut running streams through their basement floors to get the moisture necessary to accomplish this aim.  Well, this place doesn't need that stream, not only because we have a magical thing called a refrigerator, but because the walls seep water with every rain shower - which, as you can imagine, is great for old school cellars, but not so awesome for modern storage or utility.

So after days and days of non-stop storms and a conspicuous absence of HB with a bucket (the previous owner took the sump pump and we're having basement work done later this fall), my Mom and I discovered about 4 inches of standing water on top of the half concrete, half dirt basement floor (thank goodness for wellies!).  Grandmama did some bailing with her "spare" energy and got quite a bit of the water out, but making an executive decision that we cannot care about everything, I've decided to ignore the literal flooding in the basement and worry about the figurative flooding elsewhere...

With my first paper due later this week, I've been trying to focus my non-running, non-playing, non-projecting time on an in depth, analytical reading of Gertrude Coleman's 1911 book Suffragette Sally.  Finding it hard to focus with so much activity about, I've tried to hole up near the one grounded outlet in the house (which of course is in the kitchen) to knock out several well written, highly cerebral (aka non-JVBC-personal narrative) pages while the other two- and four-legged house inhabitants entertain themselves elsewhere.

But, alas, concentration is for the birds as we're in full swing of several (because why would they come one at a time?) exciting firsts.  And since being a positive parent is - big picture wise - far more important than this one measly paper, the needs and accomplishments of GW and GV drown out the never-ending, water-logged to do list:

GW proudly showing off his first school
Summer 2014

1st first: Attempting to get GW ready to officially begin school this fall, we enrolled him part time in the day care program associated with my grad school.  Having never been in such an environment before, he's all sorts of atwitter about the toys, the games, the big kids, and (Heaven help me) THE GIRLS.  OMG.

Unfortunately he is the only 3.5 year old there and he's at that in-between stage where he's too big for the little guy-group and too young for the big kids group, but apparently he is happy to float between the groups as necessary and explore, interact and play with whomever is around.  Giving all of the credit for his success to his incredibly extroverted, confident personality, my first-timer parent worries are subsiding and this all seems pretty darn cool.

2nd first:  The big down side to GW's school experience, however, is that after a morning full of all out romping, he's getting home and refusing to nap.  With some degree of dread I have to acknowledge that we have finally reached that point where, even with extra physical activity and stimulus, he (note: not me) no longer requires an afternoon respite.  Of course he turns into a gremlin just in time for dinner and becomes thoroughly impossible until tucked into bed, but my stubbornness and HB's pigheadedness have genetically transferred to the little man and there is no convincing him that maybe, just maybe a nap is still a good idea.

First tooth, front and center!

3rd first:  GV is getting her first tooth.  With sopping wet onsies and a ear-piercing scream that seems to only be off-set with constant nursing, we're attempting to get her through this painful time with some degree of remaining sanity.  She's incredibly satisfied with her new found talent of biting and, Lord help me, I'm still planning to breast feed her until 12 months for auto-immune purposes... fortunately she prefers to chew on my shoulder than elsewhere, but seriously, ouch.   It's an excellent thing she's cute!!

4th first: until recently, GV has been a relatively quiet child.  She does NOT like talking to strangers and, even with just us around, she reserves most of her squeals, coos and goos for particularly enjoyable moments.  But, as of last week, she has turned a new leaf and said her first word. While lying in bed with us and basking in the morning sunlight, GV roles over, sits up and look at HB's chest hair with an expression of deep contemplation.  She then reaches out and, in a 7 month old kind of way, begins to grope at his chest saying - I kid you not - "tickle tickle!"  Needless to say, when we reported this new development to GW, the resident tickle monster, he was beyond pleased with his protege's progress.

Granted, these firsts aren't negative things and therefore cannot be claimed against some universal karmic insurance policy for parents, but it is a lot of new all at one time and each change on its own is worthy of individual response, care and encouragement.  I think some day I'll look back on this and nostalgically ponder how amazing it was and how I managed to keep things a float (ha), but short of getting a few of those in-pool lounge chairs for the basement and perhaps a paper drink umbrella or two, it might not be as pretty in execution as will be in memory.  Water pails, tantrums, blood and homework... what a great combination!

Let Marathon Training Begin!

Geography lesson: this is Vermont,
NOT Idaho.

So this past Saturday, after an 11 hour car ride in which we sang Jingle Bells 3,026 times, stopped for coffee 5 times and made word games of town names at least 17 times (seriously PA, "Lackawanna"?!), we made it up to Vermont in one piece.  GW was a great sport about it, like usual, and I am pretty sure GV would never like to see her car seat again... too bad for her we need to drive back to Virginia in August!  Never the less, we made it here and - given our immense to do list of house projects, course work and marathon training - hit the ground running. Literally.

With one week to go before our no-sh*t 16 week training program begins, I decided to take the first opportunity I had to get a little jog in.  Figuring that although there are some killer trails to run around Bread Loaf Mountain, being an unaccompanied diabetic I probably ought to stick to something "trafficked" (this is Vermont after all and far less populated than Virginia) just in case the worst happens and I pass out... because, face it, I'd rather have some random Subaru driving stranger find me than an opportunistic cougar!  So opting to run down Vermont Route 125, at high noon I strike out to finish the 3.8 miles from my campus to our place.

Talk about stupid.

Between the midday heat emanating from not only the golden orb directly overhead but the black, hot pavement beneath my feet, the intense humidity and the elevation change from 59 feet back in VA to 1,430 feet in VT, I was a pathetic pile of sweaty mush by the time I actually made it back to the house. For those of you who know that I'm from Colorado and that my home town is at 5,003 feet, this post is probably a gross disappointment, but having last lived in the Centennial State in 2007 I can honestly say that East Coast humidity felt more natural to me today than the slight change in elevation!

The only saving grace for this run - beyond having gone out for it at all - is that I at least made the correct decision to start my pre-training-training going down hill rather than making a round trip run or a one way trip up the mountain.  I think my future runs need to either be much earlier in the day or (prepare for immense vexation due to the gorgeous natural playground I'm in) on a treadmill...  I mean, seriously, I can't afford to fall behind on the 16 week schedule without running the avoidable risk of under training and injury.  Maybe when I get my feet back under me I'll attempt to hit the pavement again?  Or better yet, when HB comes to visit (for he couldn't come with... so sad), actually check out the Green Mountain National Forest trails that start just feet from the front door.

Sigh...

Whatever, I went running.  All for now.

Run as One & Historic 10K

Holy cow, this has been a running weekend! Not in an intense, incessant kind of way - we didn't do any crazy distance or personal best pace or anything like that - it simply was.

Yesterday morning we drove up to Washington DC for the Team RWB & Team Rubicon joint event "Run as One."  With the aim of raising awareness of veteran suicide,  a 100ish of us ran a three mile loop around the national mall from the base of the Washington Monument, around the Lincoln Memorial and all the way back down to the Smithsonian Castle.  Wearing matching grey t-shirts and flying the stars and stripes at the front of the pack, the run leaders kept the pace such that we were truly running as one and in honor of Neil Landsberg and Clay Hunt, both veterans who committed suicide earlier this year, sticking together.

While our stroller was the only one participating in the run, the location and purpose of the event brought out more than one VIP...  Lou Nemec, the national athletic director for Team RWB; Tommy Sowers, the Assistant Secretary of the Department of Veteran Affairs; and retired General David Petraeus.  Stars and Stripes published a neat article about it (see it here) and if you check out the pictures of the run you can see my handsome HB doing his thing with the stroller.

Of course we had to get a picture... who'd believe us otherwise!

And today, we ran the first annual Historic 10k.  Part of the MCM Event series, this race does the last 6.2 miles of the Historic Half Marathon route - which, for those of you not familiar with the route through Fredericksburg, Virginia, includes the notorious Hospital Hill (a long, step hill that, appropriately so, passes the local emergency room doors...).  HB and I considered running the half, but having a) not trained for it, b) heard rumors of stroller bans (seriously, who bans strollers?!) and c) decided possible injuries are not worth it, we agreed that the 10k was more appropriate given our larger running goals this year.

So at 5:00 this morning we got up, laced up our shoes, bundled the kids and made our way over to the start line in down town Fburg.  With the only stroller participating in the 10k, we took turns pushing the kids around the undulating route and fed off of the continuous encouraging comments from spectators and Marines alike for our "hard core" parent skills.  Course when we hit Hospital Hill and our energy tanks appeared to be empty, a guy from the local running store volunteered to push the kids for a ways to give us a break - nice, but nope! With the motivation we finished the hill and brought it in for a time of 59:02.   Which, given the fact we were exhausted and it was raining pretty hard by the end, I am pretty proud of.

Assuming there is no reason not to, I am totally tackling the half every year I can from here on out... it's an awesome event and, ya know, 13.1 miles doesn't sound so bad any more.  Granted marathon training hasn't really started in full force yet (that begins first week of July) and I'm still only running between 3 and 5ish miles on any given outing, but half of the sport is mental and dagnabbit I'm stubborn enough to have that part, at least, covered.

Now, where's the ice...

Team RWB

Over the last handful of years I feel like my identity has morphed into something I never expected.  When I was younger, I had this black and white plan of what my life would look like along the way -- I'd achieve a certain level of education, I'd become an integral cog in one of the government's hush hush agencies, I'd quickly move up the ranks in obscure positions I'd happily leave to other's imaginations and I'd generally be seen as a successful, glamorous person -- but the unexpected began to happen and suddenly my future became what my compulsive organizational behavior had fought so long to prevent: grey.  

I don't say that in any negative sense, but rather as more of a acknowledgement of my former rigidity and as an acceptance of the control I simply do not have.  Since 2009 I've weighed my options and made assertive choices to step away from "The Plan" in an attempt to "let go and let God" do what is right for me and, more to the point, my family.  I acknowledge there is a certain degree of passivity in this lifestyle outlook, but I'm tired of trying to force the square peg (plan) through the round hole (life) when there is a more simple way...  I am not what I expected, but I am passionate about what I've become:  

I am the wife of a veteran.  I am a mother of two.  I am an endurance runner.  I am a type 1 diabetic.   

As random as this topic may seem, I bring it up because today was a big day for me where I felt like all of my "new" pieces melded together in one cohesive positive direction.  Typically my being feels ripped in twenty directions -- the mother in me needs to be cuddling or cleaning something, while the wife in me ought to be packing a lunch in the kitchen or showering more often, the runner in me should be at about mile seven already and the diabetic is reminding me that, oh yeah, you still haven't finished your coffee.  But today, today I was cohesively all of those things at the exact same time and for a bigger purpose than myself...  let the ramble about Team RWB begin. 

A few weeks back, right after the Boston Marathon bombings, HB and I were introduced to a veteran's support organization that works to build communities and combat PTSD through physical activity and positive social interactions.  Side stepping the dingy VFW bar scene, Team RWB validates the modern American veteran and their families by connecting veterans to one another, creating a common purpose and a positive post-active duty group identity.  It acknowledges the hardships OIF/OEF veterans have endured and by placing one foot after the other actively defies the social stigma that disabled vets cannot do for themselves...  Team RWB bridges the gap between all of the well intentioned civilian non-profits that act on behalf of veterans, the Department of Veteran Affairs and the veterans themselves by bringing simple person-to-person "let's go do something" humanity back.  

Given that HB and I are out running all the time anyway - we're gearing up to start our marathon training after all - it took next to no effort to get a weekly Team RWB 3 mile run set up in our area.  For the past several weeks it's just been the two of us with our incredibly patient duo in the Bob stroller, but, as I already said, today was different - someone came!

With one new member, the group is still dominated by my family, but I feel elated that it took one step in the right direction today.  I'm so hopeful that with time and persistence I'll be able to grow the local team and that one day we'll have ourselves a vibrant, constructive, healthy community for vets in the Rappahannock area...  I mean the reality is, folks, that PTSD is no joke and with 22 new vets committing suicide a day there is something that we as a country - as a community - are doing wrong.  Many of our current vets joined the military when war wasn't just a possibility, but a given and to transition back to civilian life after all they've been through is a truly daunting mission.  

Not only does Team RWB give them an off base, non-VA Clinic place to find support and camaraderie they loose when no longer "in," but it gives people like me a chance recognize what they've done and lost by doing what I'm already doing: living the life their bravery and sacrifices have enabled me to live.

So, today, I was every bit of me and then some.  I jacked my sugars up a bit, took my insulin pump off, laced up my minimalist shoes and went running with my husband and kids; and all to support our vets.  Next week I'll do the same and the week after that and the week after that too.

That's who I am.  Who are you?

USMC 26.2

It's official.  We're signed up.  We're running the Marine Corp Marathon in October!

I have been so reluctant to write about it for fear I'd jinx myself out of an entrance slot, but by the grace of God HB and I some how managed to secure two spots.  Sign ups were an overwhelming, exhausting experience -- and we haven't even started running yet!

Registration for active duty personnel opened a couple weeks back, but open public registration began yesterday at noon with the disclaimer that it was expected to sell out faster than last year (2012 registration closed in 2 hours 41 minutes).  As you can imagine, I sat staring at the clock waiting for my chance to spend far too much money on 26.2 miles hours before 12:00 rolled around.  Asking Grandmama to cover down on the kids so I had fewer distractions, I set multiple alarms on my phone and clung to my credit card for fear that I'd forget the number and absentmindedly miss my opportunity until October 2014 - which yes, is much too far away to satisfy my current motivation.

So with six minutes and 15 seconds left on their countdown widget, I held my breath in over excited anticipation of having something big to focus on and work toward... and then, just as the clock struck noon and I hit the "REGISTER NOW!" button my heart practically stopped when the "ERROR" messages immediately began.  Trying over and over and over again to access the sign in page the entire USMC Marathon page crashed, which apparently their "engineers [were] aware of the issue" and that I should "check back again in a short while."

Short while my eye!! I WAS NOT ABOUT TO WAIT PATIENTLY AND THEN BE STUCK ON THE SIDELINES UNTIL 2014!

Three times I managed to get to the form page, filled it out and burst into tears as their server crashed again and failed to let me purchase the entrance fee.  After one hour of furious cyber-warfare, repetitive prayers and multiple "Mommy needs to focus, don't touch the computer" comments to GW, HB and I decided to give up the ghost and forfeit the effort we were putting in when the "the race you have selected is no longer available" messages began.  Heart broken, I futilely hit refresh again and again and again waiting for the reality that we'd missed our chance to sink in.

But then... 1 hour 24 minutes after starting this battle, the form page miraculously reappeared in front of me.  Could it be?  I filled it out for me and the registration was added to my cart... I filled it out for HB and his registration was added to my cart... I put in the credit card info and hit submit...  and ...

Hallelujah!! So on October 27, 2013, for the first time, we're running a marathon!  Now that the "easy part" of registering is over, the fun part begins... TRAINING RUNS!

"If the ultimate goal is to reach heaven, the finish line, 

then we must train our hearts and our feet so as to win."

1 Corinthians 9:24

OWWWWWW!

Remember how I said I bought two new pairs of shoes? One pair of minimalist and one pair of normal running shoes? Well, I found out the hard way why they say to break them in slowly.

Seeing that it was the first beautiful, sunny day we've had in a while, we went up to DC for a run and picnic yesterday.  Intending to do only 3 miles around the National Mall and then a quite sandwich lunch near the Tidal Basin, I stupidly reminded HB that the last time we went up there we decided that the next DC run would include a trip up Capital Hill... which lengthens our typical route by 2 miles.  Ignorant of what the extra distance was about to do to my body, I was thrilled to be out for a run and the shoes felt fantastic as we powered up and back down the Hill!  I was moving easier, taking shorter strides and pushing off much harder than I had been previously - I remember at one point HB even commented that our running pace dropped down to 7:36!! Of course we haven't been running enough lately to hold that pace, but dang! These minimalist shoes dramatically change my gate and stride turn over!

About the time that we looped around the Reflecting Pool, I began noticing that my calves were tight and much more tired than normal.  By running on my toes instead of using a whole-foot strike, I was engaging my calves for essentially the first time, but I had no freaking clue how sore I'd be today.

AND OH MY GOODNESS.  I cannot move...  I look like a thoroughly broken, overly stiff old woman today!  Needless to say, I've learned my lesson: I will never again do long training runs in minimalist shoes!!

Oh, and thanks to Mommy Brain, I completely forgot
 about the marvelous invention of sunscreen.  OOPS.  At least they match.

New shoes!

Well, I knew the day was coming and, sadly, it is finally here: my Asicis Landreth are officially retiring.

I've had this pair for longer than I ever expected I would thanks to my nine month, GV-requested exercise hiatus, but with broken laces, worn tread and innumerable miles they're starting to cause a new twinge here, straight up pain there and simply need to be replaced.

While I am sure there are those out there that could not possibly care any less about my foot wear issues, I am positive that the runners among you can appreciate the physical necessity of a good pair of shoes and can identify with the brand loyalty that develops one you find the perfect Cinderella-fit.  For me, Asicis Landreth have been my glass slippers.  They've been my s(tr)ide-kick, running-buddies for some of my best races and one-on-one ego challenges with HB: the time I wound up beating him after he coaxed/dragged me (and the stroller) through a 5k; the race where I fell on the backstretch, was passed by a competitor and came back to beat her and win our age group; and, of course, my first half marathon.  Bottom line is that I thoroughly loved this design and I'd wear them forever... if I could.

The unfortunate, big time bummer is that Asicis stopped making this shoe.  For whatever reason they got it in their pea-brains that it wasn't selling well enough and that people who don't need extreme arch support don't need these kick-butt neutral shoes... I'm not bitter, really.   Anyway, I was completely heart broken to realize I'd have to start over in my search for running kicks, BUT trying to optimistically take a look at the bright side (odd, I know) I figured this was a great opportunity to try something new: minimalist shoes.

For those who are unfamiliar with running shoes, most, typical shoes have an 8-12 mm rise in the heel that provides cushion when your foot hits the pavement.  By switching to a minimalist shoe - or variation there of - you loose that height difference and force your body to create it's own cushion and stability by reducing heel strikes and forcing greater turn over through shorter, toe-dominant strides.  Essentially, these shoes change your gate and train your body to run with increased efficiency.

So there we are, no shit, at the running store and I'm picking out a pair of my own.  I looked at a bunch of different brands, heel heights and scoffed my way through the ridiculously colored women's shoes that are currently available on the market (seriously, what's with the neon?!).   Since all of the shoes were ugly and that held absolutely no weight in my decision, the test runs back and forth in the parking lot helped me make my final choice -  my foot strike is quieter in the 0 mm rise Mizuno Wave than any of the other 1-4 mm rise shoes available.  Since that indicates better form, volia! I found my new shoes. As you can see in the picture they have ZERO tread on the heel and should be 100% different from my Landreth, may they rest in peace.

Of course the warning that comes along with swapping from traditional running sneakers to minimalist shoes is that you should NEVER use them all of the time and you still need a normal pair as you transition.  So despite my reluctance to shy away from Asicis, I wound up getting a pair of New Balance 1080V2 to try out.  Admittedly they are significantly more ugly than the Landreth were, but until I've put several miles under our feet I'm going to keep the jury out on their success as a replacement training shoe.  I'll probably wear these for all of my longer runs and save the Miznuo for three mile or less "off days."

For better or for worse, I'll keep you posted.

Running, sans supervision!

The last couple weeks have been over cast, cold and dreary - more or less the meteorological embodiment of my state of mind and energy levels.  I've avoided leaving the house without HB in an attempt to reduce the overwhelmed feeling I get when GW is melting down, GV is hollering to be fed and Lord knows what else is pulling me in six different directions and making my back seize with stress.  Fortunately when HB is home I've got the backup I need, but, I tell you, when it's just me and those clouds I couldn't feel more unmotivated to complicate my life with a trip to the grocery store or rainy playground outing.  But today things were different.  It was the nicest, warmest weather we've had in Virginia in ages - seriously the sky looked fake it was so blue! The sun was shining and, even though HB wasn't here, I decided to take my chances and get out of the house.

Going through the pre-outing check list, I tested my post-breakfast blood sugar to make sure it'd be stable enough to take the kids out on my own.  My meter beeped and it read 230 mg/dL; way high.  Now, granted, hyperglycemic blood sugars ensure I wont randomly pass out and leave my children unsupervised on a walking trail or vulnerable on the swings, but for someone who takes pride in tight glucose control such high numbers are horrific.  I don't know what's causing them, but I've seen several high readings like this lately - I mean I am not under bolusing, miscounting carbs or over eating... I'm just off.   I'll need to talk to my endocrinologist about this...

So I punch in the bg numbers into my pump to see if a correction dose is necessary; which it isn't.  I've got 2.3 active units of insulin left in my system from my breakfast bolus and I only need a measly 1.3 units to get back down into my ideal blood sugar range.  But not wanting to wait for it to take it's sweet time (haha, get it?) to come back down I decided to throw out the mental debate I'd been having between taking GW for a bike ride or simply going to the playground and opt to go for a run instead. 

Now, I've never done this before... "this" being running with the stroller and "this" also being running by my-diabetic-self because HB always pushes the stroller and HB always runs with me.  You might think this is mean of me for not helping tote the extra weight around (stroller: 34 lbs + GW: 38.5 lbs + GV: 13.3 lbs + GV's car seat: 11.7 lbs = 97.5 extra lbs!) or you might think I'm genius for creating a scenario that "requires" HB to exercise, but the reality is the stroller makes my hands go numb (a sensation I loath) and I am terrified of the worst case outcome when combining diabetes with exercise, passing out.  If I pass out with HB around he knows what to do, but if I pass out without him the what ifs start to pile up and I typically don't find the risks worth running. Literally. 

But with my blood sugar sky high, the weather this nice and my mood more zipp-a-dee-doo-dah than normal, I detach my pump, place it on the night stand, lace up my Asics and we head to the car.  Since exercise works to improve insulin efficiency in the body, I know that by running my glucose levels will drop and by starting with my blood sugar so high, removing my pump and strategically checking my bgs along the way I can get back down into a healthy range sooner and then consume quick acting carbs as necessary to prevent going too low.  So without my babysitter and child-pusher, I put my music on and hit the pavement... within one mile my blood sugar was down to 138 mg/dL and by the end of the three mile loop it'd gotten down to 65.  

Admittedly I failed to keep my sugars in the safe range, but I accomplished everything else.  I'd put a mental block in my head about my ability to push that stroller and run on my own that didn't need to be there.  So what that my hands loose sensation? And, yeah, my diabetes still requires conscientious treatment, but oh well, c'est la vie. The point is I can do it - and not half badly either!  Granted I'm not about to let HB off the hook now and run on my own all the time, I'd still prefer to have him around... it just goes to show that the lesson learned today is that I run with HB because I want to, not because I have to.  

2 miles down, 22 lbs to go

I CANNOT TAKE IT ANY MORE.

I made it four, almost five, weeks without exercising, but waiting another two will drive me absolutely mad.  Between the beckoning my running shoes are incessantly doing, the taunting the scale does each morning and my mental stream of expletives each time I have to put on maternity pants rather than normal jeans I'm just about at the end of my post-bed rest couch potato rope.  So, to quote Rafiki, "it is time."

Godiva exercise fuel...
 quick carbs or extra calories?

After a much needed trip to the local Target to pick up running pants that fit (ug, how mortifying!), HB and I laced up our dusty sneakers, packed the kids into our new Bob Dullie (thank you CraigsList) and hit up one of our old running loops for a "test run."  Between his ACL reconstruction this past August and my involuntary pregnancy induced running hiatus, it's been months since either of us have put one foot after the other for more than a gimpy shuffle or waddle.  Clearly we weren't going for much in the way of distance or speed and, considering this was only day one, I must admit that our one goal was to prove to ourselves that neither of us are either too old, too out of shape or too broken to do it... which I am tickled pink (maybe it's just my asthma?) to report we accomplished! Granted tomorrow we might be a bit sore, but by jove, such mental exercise was well worth it. 

With my starting blood sugar reading at 177 mg/dL, we ran five minutes on one minute off for four sets around the local YMCA sports fields.  The high wind was an additional challenge and I over bundled myself for the weather something fierce, but we kept it mutually positive and pushed at an average ten minute mile pace (okay, HB pushed the pace and I tried to keep up... BUT I'LL FIX THAT!).  By the end of our second mile, my legs were exhausted, my blood sugar had dropped to 84 mg/dL and my body was soundly expressing it's disproval for my bra selection.  It's normal to have glucose ranges drop that far when exercising, but seeing that this was my first time running while breast feeding and diabetic I am thrilled to see that my sugars are acting like they did when I was running and simply diabetic.  Obviously I'll monitor it each time we go out, but hopefully the numbers I saw today will be a trend (and how about next time I nurse GV before we go, rather than after... ouch).  I'll keep you posted.

So with two weeks remaining before I'm officially cleared to exercise at my six week check up, I'm taking my life back and saying screw it.  HB and I both have about 22 pounds to lose before we get back down to our pre-pregnancy weight - and, for me at least, this is after losing 20 lbs in child birth! I definitely gained more this go around than with the first baby (only 26 lbs gained with GW), but hey, I was allowed to exercise in the first pregnancy and I didn't have to scarf simple sugar to keep myself going.  I don't think it'll be all that hard to drop the baby weight with the right amount of effort, the real challenge will be seeing how much time it takes to get back into competitive running... I'm thinking maybe going for a full marathon this year, so hopefully the pounds will shed right off and I can start training to step up into the big leagues of diabetic endurance athletes! I mean, really, half marathons are so last year... 

9-11 Memorial 5k

On Saturday HB, GW and I competed in the Arlington Police, Fire & Sheriff 9-11 Memorial 5K road race at the Pentagon.  Of course I use the word "competed" extremely loosely since HB isn't cleared to run for another four to six months (ACL reconstruction surgery three weeks ago), I'm restricted to the brisk walking pace of 140 beats per minute and, let's face it, GW only wanted to come for the fire trucks.

2011 9-11 Memorial 5k

This particular 5k has a very special place in my heart as the 2011 race was the first road race I'd ever signed up to compete in.  When I was younger, running was about the last thing you could pay me to do and that only changed about 3 years ago when I figured out that I love to pass other runners. So having spent the past couple years enjoying running around (literally) other people and wanting to honor those in our local community who were directly impacted by 9-11, HB and I signed up and trained to beat a 30 minute mark. Keep in mind that I'd never run competitively before and 30 minutes seemed remarkably reasonable for a first timer goal.

People always warn new runners to watch their starting pace coming off the gates because it is really easy to go out too quick... well, the 2011 race started and I definitely forgot all that boohockey when my feet hit the pavement.  Over and over again I put the next high-and-tight hair cut in front of me in my sights and tracked him until I passed him... Well, much to my surprise, my finishing time wound up being a 4 minutes faster than I'd trained for (26:10.8).  For my first time in a race and having trained at a 9 - 10 minute pace, I didn't think that was too shabby!

And so a running addict was born. 

2012 GW & HB waiting out
the rain pre-race

Well I've been out of the exercise loop for months now with these pregnancy complications and I was heart broken to have been benched from the Marine Corp Half Marathon last May, but now that I'm cleared for some level of exercise this particular 5k seemed to be the right race for me/us to get back on the horse.  Unfortunately, I underestimated the difficulty of walking a race I'd under any other circumstances be chomping at the bit to run in...

26 1/2 weeks pregnant and still
going at mile 2.5

HB and I held off to the side near the back of the crowd when the race began and started our self-pitying walk.  Fortunately, right near the starting line we came across a seven month pregnant woman and her husband with their 2 year old daughter who were stuck in the same boat... Banding together we waddled our way after the pack with our patient, supportive, amazing husbands in tow and practically a personal escort from the police cars marking the tail end of the race.  Even with most of the runners out of sight, it was very nice to have someone equality as impatient for November walking along side me and our two bellies brought on extra cheers and even some cow bell from the nice people on the side of the road who waited for us.

Needless to say, around mile 2.5 my competitive side kicked in and I wanted to at least not finish last. Motivated by the imminent arrival of dinner time and an escape from the drizzling rain, we spent the last leg of the race right at the Pentagon,  passing as many people as my swollen ankles and HB's knee would allow...

Ultimately clocking at the breakneck pace of a 18:12 mile, we crossed the finish line in 56:33 minutes with 23 out of 3069 other racers behind us.  My blood sugar was of course low (63 mg/dl) from all that "exertion" but at least we participated and went the distance - which, at this point in this pregnancy and HB's recovery, is definitely saying something.

I'm not planning to sign up for any more road races between now and Baby's delivery since so much with this pregnancy has been week to week and I've resigned myself to expect the unexpected, but I am really excited for race season next year.  I'm not yet ready to announce what schemes for post-baby body recovery I have up my sleeve, but God, Baby, GW and (grumble grumble grumble) diabetes willing it'll be effective, fun and worth the effort!

The Idoitic nature of diabetes and exercise.

One of the primary issues that I, personally, have with my diabetes is the fact that I lead an active lifestyle.  I expect that concept may be especially hard to wrap your head around for those of you who are more familiar with type 2 diabetes, however to those of us dealing with type 1 this irony is all the more frustrating.

Without the pregnancy factor, diabetes creates many issues for exercise because of the body's use of glucose for fuel.  When we exercise, our body burns whatever sugar is in our system to keep us moving and when it runs out of excess glucose it then turns to burning fat for fuel.  In a diabetic body, however, when the body runs out of glucose to burn and swaps to burning fat, the remaining active insulin in your system (which is working far more efficiently because of your exercise by the way) has nothing to counter-balance its effects. This means that you become hypoglycemic... I'm sure everyone has heard of someone or another passing out as a result of exercise, this is as a result of that imbalance of insulin to glucose-fuel.

That being said, prior to exercise a diabetic has to get their blood sugar up high enough (pre-pregnancy I'd ideally shoot for the 180s-190s) to counter balance this fuel usage and insulin efficiency.  I've found that if I get my sugars up high enough for a run that I can typically run about 2 miles before my sugars are back into the 70-80mg/dl range.  If I wish to run more than 2 miles (which I typically do), then I must ingest even more sugar.   When I ran my half marathon back in December I consumed four 12 oz water bottles of orange juice (12 oz of oj has roughly 57g carbs) - aka a ludicrous amount of sugar - in order to complete the 13.1 miles and my blood sugar still went low after the race was over (56 mg/dl).  Good thing they had food waiting for me, eh?

There is a huge community out there of type 1 athletes struggling with their blood sugar's impact on their individual sports.  Fortunately it is not a be-all, end-all problem and we each seem to come up with our own ways to balance insulin dependence and activity.  I've been quite inspired by several many of the endurance runners who blog about their experiences and the challenges they've faced... I'm hoping that I'll be able to step up and do a marathon at some point and join the ranks of the serious "insulin powered" runners.

Unfortunately, for the time being, I've been benched.  Exercise during pregnancy is already restricted to some extent (whether women listen to their OB's advice or not is another topic), but insulin dependence and pregnancy significantly restricts what exercise is safe.  There are two main factors I now must consider:

1. To start with, as I mentioned previously, I cannot let my blood sugars get too high during pregnancy without running the risk of causing damage to the baby.  So instead of letting my sugars get up to 180 like I did before, I have to keep them at or under 120 mg/dl which means that hypoglycemia as a result of exercise is far more likely to happen and far more quick to happen than previously.  
2. On top of that, I cannot let my heart rate go above 140 beats per minute or exercise for more than 30 minutes at any given time.  This is because the oxygen my heart and lungs require to function at higher heart rates would deprive the blood going to the baby of necessary oxygen which, worst case scenario, could a) deprive the baby of oxygen or b) cause the temperature of the womb to rise enough to cause the baby distress. 

Obviously, I feel that fetal distress and birth defects are worth skipping the extra mile of running or sit up, but that does come with a different set of knock on issues.  Like I said in my initial blog post, I've been struggling with the "fat girl" identity since high school and the concept of putting on weight (pregnancy-induced or not) is very uncomfortable for me.  According to my perinatologist,  I've put on an appropriate amount of weight so far, but with such an intense insulin usage I cannot control the excess weight gain as a result of my exercise restrictions... In order to get my sugars up high enough to work out, I typically must ingest about 130 calories of carbs (ie: 8 oz of milk or 5 starburst or 3 oz of soda, etc) and in the 30 minutes of approved exercise time I can typically burn only 160-200 calories due to the heart rate restrictions I must adhere to.  Anyone who can do basic math here can see that the number of calories ingested to number of calories burned don't tend to work out in favor of weight management.

HB argues with me that the action of exercise is worth the effort even if the purpose of exercise isn't achieved... I admittedly can see his point in terms of heart function and continued active lifestyle, however the frustration of balancing diabetes, pregnancy and exercise is enough to make any type 1 woman who is given a hard time about excess weight gain come to tears.  In any pregnancy - high risk or not - doctors recommend gaining between 25 and 35 lbs because that is all that is necessary for the baby, but more insulin means more glucose storage and more glucose storage means more fat and more fat means higher weight... not exactly an easy cycle to wrap one's head around.

I know that pregnancy is ephemeral and with the help of Sean T (by the way, I LOVE HIM) and a half marathon or two I'll be back in my original fighting shape after the baby is born.  Between now and then I'm not sure how I'm going to find a balance to the sick-cycle of insulin and weight gain, but I expect I'll have a few emotional break downs and extremely self-conscious moments about my weight.  I will need to keep reminding myself that "the baby comes first" (obviously) and that a more simple day of balancing "just" diabetes and exercise is at the end of the tunnel.