23. What. The. Fuck.
I went for a run yesterday at 5:30pm. My number was 150 and had climbed there over the course of a 2 hour 50% reduction to my basal rate and un-bolused granola bar. I double checked the number twice before leaving my apartment, rechecked my Dex, everything was looking good. I was planning on a 4 mile run, at only about a 10 minute pace, and since I always go low when I run I knew I'd be eating some honey stingers around mile two, but all in all this is a really great starting point. By mile 1.75 I was feeling a little shaky, I thought I might be over reacting but I popped 3 honey stingers in just to be on the safe side. It was dark and cold and I was at this point in my run where I didn't want to stop. A low lit area covered by a bridge and with the bright lights of traffic on my right I really wanted to power through until I hit more comfortable ground. By mile 2 I slowed down, thought I'd give those stingers a little time to work their magic. I just wanted to make it till mile 3. My goal Is not to have to stop and check my blood, I'm only running for 42 minutes at maximum, I shouldn't have to be stopping in the middle of a slow moving 4 mile run, thats what I kept telling myself over and over. But finally when I got to a better lit higher traffic area I decided to stop, my head was feeling a little funny and I thought it could give me peace of mind to check and then I could get moving a little faster.
23. Wait? What? 23? I'm at least 10 minuets out from having those 6 honey stingers (I popped a few more along the way) and I'm 23? It's 5:50, I dropped 130 points in 20 minutes. This isn't normal right? I did everything I could to prevent this exact situation in yet here I am, obsessively checking my blood and watching it ever so slowly climb up. I was cold, miserable and slightly concerned that I was going to just pass out right there in the dark. This cannot possibly be normal, why is it that despite all of my efforts I cannot run 4 measly miles. I do not understand.
And the worst part is, not that I had to stand in the cold for 20 minutes trying to decide if I should ask someone for help, or that I ended up walking the remainder of the run in the dark without my music on because my head was pounding, no the worst part is that there is no one to help. There is no one I can pose the problem too that can actually help me, because diabetes is a bitch and for no rhyme or reason shit happens.
Needless to say, I'm over it. I am utterly over you diabetes. You fucking beast.
