The Perils of a Prominent Proboscis

Many apologies, dear readers, if you have been avid followers of my blog, for my protracted absence from the blogosphere! Unfortunately I have suffered injury and illness in equal measure, and this has resulted in a dearth of anecdotes and stirring stories of great bravery these past two weeks. Firstly, I was the victim of a terrible injury which left me in pain at every step and quite unable to run, whether as a winged fairy or mere mortal. OK, possibly not such a terrible injury, but it felt like I had cracked a rib or something, possibly due to an over zealous response to the urgings of the Gasper during my fifteen minutes at her mercy one day. Probably just a pulled muscle, but very painful nonetheless.

As if to compound my problems, I was just about recovered from this when I fell victim to a lurgy of the head, nose and throat which has persisted these five days past. As I am in possession of a nose of generous proportions, I need elucidate no further, and I am sure you can imagine the enormity of my distress. The nose will feature again in today’s report, but more of that anon.

Given the sub-zero temperatures of recent days I considered it wise not to venture out and potentially exacerbate and prolong the awful fever, but instead to remain in the relative warmth and safety of my draughty abode until the sickness was passed, and would have wished to remain indolent beyond that time. However, the day of reckoning will soon be upon me, when I will have little choice but to don the silvery gown, waggle my wings and wand, and step forth on the fine streets of Bath for what I expect will be well beyond the two-hour mark! So, with this in mind, and much recovered this morning, I rose in the darkness before dawn determined to exercise my limbs and lungs along the frost-bejewelled paths of the local park.

Surprisingly, despite the minus 8-degree temperature, there was very little actual frost due (I surmised) to a dearth of vapours in the early morning air. Bonus! This means I had little fear of holding my footing and could concentrate instead on keeping a good tempo and pace. Frost, maybe not, but the cold was extreme for my unaccustomed body and brain! As I sucked in the icy air I almost cried it was so cold! Here was Mother Earth using the heat of my core to warm her atmosphere thirty times every minute, and it felt I was receiving little in exchange. Well, maybe some precious oxygen, so I suppose I mustn’t complain!

There were few fellow residents out at this hour, when the Sun was yet to cast her golden gaze upon the river, save a couple of young women in loose charge of a border collie who was delighting in rolling on his back on the frost-covered grass and running furiously in  long zigzags in front of them.

As I passed the two women I heard heavy steps behind me and wondered if it was the echo of my own bouncing back from the opposite bank in the surrounding stillness. But no – I was presently passed by a madman, around thirty years my junior, clad only in singlet and shorts! Here was I in thermal top, gloves and space pants, and there he went with his red calves driving him off into the distance in front of me! I estimated he was running around ninety seconds a mile faster than me, but as I rounded a corner he was suddenly nowhere to be seen! Had his raw flesh succumbed entirely to the cold and shattered into a billion pieces, leaving nothing but fragile frosty dust to mark his passing? No – glancing to the side I noticed dark footprints in the frozen grass, separated by long strides and leading inexorably to an ever-diminishing figure in the distance. He was taking shortcuts! Tut! I felt a sense of smugness that I had no intention of curtailing my excursion – I would fulfil my remit and not shirk by shrinking my planned course!

I was surprised that, given the conditions and my not inconsiderable layoff, I was running quite strongly. My breathing was good, my eyes were not bulging out of their sockets, and my legs, toasty and warm in my space pants, felt comfortable and fresh. As I passed the weir the waters of the river became seemingly motionless, as if waiting anxiously to cast themselves over the precipice and join the broader stream below and meet the incoming tide. A wispy mist hung over the river here, and there emerged black forms squeaking and flapping their stubby wings – moorhens, I think, if moorhens squeak.

There were little islands of ice on the path as I ran along, marking the small depressions where moisture had accumulated and frozen, an no doubt completely invisible on a warm, dry day. Up to this point I had been aware of frozen fingers and a face taut as a plaster mask, but as I made my turn I began to feel the bloodflow returning to my hands and a warmth pervading my body. All but my tongue, it seemed, which with every inhalation was frozen to the core, then reheated and revitalised with every hot exhalation – how wonderful is the human body to cope so admirably with these two extremes in such rapid succession?

As I embarked on the final half-mile home I could hear a low groan each time I expelled breath, which I must assume was coming from my throat – perhaps protesting at this exertion after a period of comfort and convalescence? No matter, I was soon home and back in my relatively warm house. It was only after a short thaw that I began to notice the pain commencing – my nose, having been subjected to an unprotected thirty-five minutes of subzero temperatures was now beginning to heat up again and as the hot blood returned my thoughts became entirely concentrated on the pain of its revival! Ouch!

Very surprised to have recorded my fastest time for this morning’s course during my current period of training, despite my layoff, so that at least is encouraging and I may actually make it to the end of the Bath Half Marathon in four weeks time!

Time               34 mins 52 secs

Distance         3.63 miles

Pace               9:36 per mile

BG before      8.8 mmol/l

BG after         10.0 mmol/l

The Iron Lady

Caught on camera!

Oxford Forum Meet, January 28th 2012

The venue, Far From the Madding Crowd

Yesterday was a rest day from training, chiefly for the reason that I was out all day (and most of the night, as it turned out!) meeting with lots of lovely people from the Forum. There was a terrific turnout, with all but one of the people who had said they would attend turning up (apologies were sent by Chris, hope you feel much better soon, and sorry we missed you).

The venue, Far From the Madding Crowd, was a good one on the whole, with lots of space available and relatively quiet throughout the day, largely due to the absence of music, a big TV or a dartboard - the latter omission causing dismay for some attendees who had hopes of staging the first Forum Darts Grand Challenge - we'll pick a better-equipped pub next time around Steff and Nicky! No TV either, sorry Duane! Another major gripe was that we were left standing outside the pub for at least a minute after the official opening time of 11:30!

Great to see so many people, some I had met before and others who were totally new to the 'meeting potential axe-murderers from the interweb' situation - we kept our axes well-hidden so as not to scare them off! Really good to be able to chat freely about diabetes, or any other subject that cropped up. Diabetes, I believe, is so much easier to handle when you no longer feel alone with it, when you can 'witter on' to your heart's content, swap stories and experiences, test and inject without censure in full public view, and generally have a good day out amongst friends previously only known by their forum monikers. Putting faces to names helps strengthen the bond, I believe and the continued and increasing success of these informal gatherings is a great illustration of how support can make such a difference to people's lives. 

Unfortunately, The Diabetes Fairy saw fit to tamper with DizzyDi's chicken, and she became very ill. Thank you to all the members who did whatever they could to ensure that she did not have to worry about being stranded or having to make a long journey home alone, in particular to The Ypaulies who eventually drove her home - you guys are amazing! 

As usual at these Meets, my blood sugar levels rocketed and I recorded one of my highest ever numbers since diagnosis, at 15.8 mmol/l! I am convinced it is due to Diabetic Osmosis and will be applying for generous funding in order to investigate the phenomenon! By the time I was back on my own on the train home, my levels had dropped to 5.0 mmol/l, adding weight to my hypothesis!

Several of us had problems on the train journeys home, myself included, due to the overwhelmingly terrible situation around Reading - I eventually arrived home around 90 minutes late on what should have been a two hour journey. So, here are the pictures!

Steff and ukjohn

Willsmum, Tina63 and DizzyDi

TomH

Jane and Natalie123

brightontez and Northerner

brightontez

DizzyDi and Sazzaroo

Nicky1970

Ian and wife SimplesL

ypauly, with nurse and daughter

Apologies that I did not get photos of Scootdevon, Robert@fm and William - I really must start trying to take a leaf out of Shelley's book and start taking lots more pictures! Normal training reports will resume shortly!

Dainty and the Wall

A few of the more observant amongst my readers may have noticed that I have taken a few days away from the training and, consequently, the blog. Four days, in fact. Monday was always going to be a rest day after Sunday’s Long Slow Run, and as it turned out, Tuesday was also a rest day since my head was unable to rise from my pillow for an undisclosed number of hours beyond my normal pre-dawn rising time.

So what of Wednesday and Thursday, I hear you ask? Well, on Tuesday night it seems I fell victim to what we shall euphemistically refer to as a ‘head cold’, brought on by the ingestion of copius quantities of Real Ale and a couple of double vodkas…The ‘cold’ persisted throughout Wednesday, and though much recovered by Thursday I was overwhelmed by extreme laziness and did not venture out that day.

So, this made me very determined to go out this morning, come hell or high water! I almost didn’t make it, waking for a second time after first being shocked awake by my alarm, but managed this time to throw my legs out of the bed and head to the bathroom for my ablutions. My house is quite old and isn’t the best insulated, so I can usually tell with a high degree of accuracy what the weather outside will be like. It would be cold! And so I was proved right, although I opted for ordinary running leggings and t-shirt, and left the space pants in the wardrobe, estimating that there was insufficient chill factor to warrant their warmth.

I was all set to go out when a memory drifted back to me from many years ago: a time when I had first sported such leggings and presented myself for inspection before my then-girlfriend. Hospitals and ambulances were put on alert and the local neighbourhood was subjected to such loud hilarity that it was feared that a tanker of nitrous oxide must have met with some disaster and released its mirth-inducing cargo for miles around! Yes, she thought I looked ridiculous, with my bony little legs encased in skin-hugging lycra in barely believable imitation of Linford’s Lunchbox!

Clearly, that was many years ago, and since then my legs have become quite magnificent, admired country-wide for their strength and line. But, I must confess, the view from the mirror reflects the Max Wall/Billy Dainty physique of those many years past. You probably need to be of a certain vintage to appreciate the comparison, but the picture above should give you some idea.

So then it occurred to me, why am I stressing about running this half marathon dressed as The Diabetes Fairy? Is it likely that the vision of me in fairy frock and tights is likely to shock or amuse more than my ‘Dainty’ tights? So Alan, be brave! Venture out in that dress and feel no fear!

The run went well, feeling strong all the way and confident of going for 7 miles on Sunday!

Time               35 mins 12 secs

Distance        3.64 miles

Pace               9:40 per mile

BG before      6.2 mmol/l

BG after         10.0 mmol/l

Who's that Girl?

An actual photo of me in the costume!

It’s a rest day today after yesterday’s longer run. Legs are a little sore, but not bad considering I’m now up to nearly half race distance already. I may not be running today, but that does not mean my mind is not occupied with the prospect of the terrifying ordeal fun day out in Bath in just under seven weeks time! I have to give serious consideration to how the costume will perform, and how I will perform beneath its diaphanous and ethereal folds…

One thing that did worry me as I was running yesterday was how hot I got, even though it was quite a cool morning and I was wearing a cotton t-shirt. How much hotter am I going to be enclosed in gossamer and silk (polyester and nylon!)? I’m not really very happy running in the heat, and there’s also the possibility that it will be a warm Spring day and therefore exacerbating the situation. I also need to consider the fact that, unlike my normal running gear that is specially designed for the purpose, this costume is likely to rub and chafe in unexpected regions, so ideally I need to know where to position protective sticking plasters and copious quantities of petroleum jelly!

So, I have a big decision looming: do I ‘test-drive’ the full regalia before the event? It’s something that I imagine every person who has made the decision to run in costume has considered. Yet how many of them actually go through with it? How many giraffes, bananas and seventeen-stone men in  hula girl outfits have you ever seen trotting around your local neighbourhood? Well, I’ve been running for many years now, and have never seen such a vision!

I really think I should do it though. The whole thing might fall apart and if I wait until the race then I might be running as ‘The Diabetic in Underwear’ instead of The Diabetes Fairy! I think that my best option is to get up very early in the morning and just run around the block when hopefully it will be extremely quiet, very dark, and totally devoid of neighbours out for their morning constitutional!

Oh dear! Why-oh-why-oh-why did I get myself into this?!!!

Up, Up and Away!

I decided to vary my route this morning, as variety is the spice of life and it can become very boring just panting past the same old scenes all the time. I also decided that, since it is Sunday and therefore nice and quiet and relatively traffic-free, I would run a route that involves running alongside some major roads – not something I would enjoy during the week with all the nose-to-tail commuters in their smelly, choking fumes alongside as companions on the journey.

The weather is cool, but not cold, and there is a light breeze, thankfully much lighter than yesterday’s strong, fence-flattening winds! I don’t mind much weather, but strong, gusting winds can knock you this way and that and sap your energy, making a run into a battle with the elements. Some people find that invigorating, but not I! The first mile or so is my usual run through the park. This is the section when I start to get warmed up, my heart and lungs up to speed and my muscles working. Even after nearly 30 years and countless runs I still find the very start of a run difficult. There’s a short, moderately uphill stretch right at the start, and this where I have to get everything woken up and working – a downhill section just wouldn’t do it, so my house is well-positioned in that respect!

Hills are at the forefront of my mind this morning, as I know what lies ahead. This is a route I have run many times in the past, but not for some time now – possibly since early last summer. I spend the first mile through the deserted park mentally preparing for what lies ahead – the relentless climb from the park to the Common, a large area of woodland and parkland just outside the centre of the city. As I leave the park I note the details on my GPS: 1.03 miles covered. I will note them again when I reach the summit. I don’t mind running up hills at all, as much of my early running was in a very hilly city that bordered on even hillier countryside – hills were unavoidable so I learned to love them. There’s no point in hating hills if you can’t avoid them, and I always think to myself that they involve different muscles, so the ‘flat’ muscles get a bit of a rest on the way up. You can probably tell that I’m not medically-trained!

Up then, then up again, a slightly flatter stretch then up and up until I can see the crossroads right at the top and they draw closer until I am upon them. I glance down at my Garmin – 2.79 miles, so a climb of 1.76 miles accomplished in just short of 16 minutes. Not bad at all! And now I’m at the Common, away from the roads and through the woods, lovely and peaceful and surprisingly free of spaniels. Well, it is still relatively early for a Sunday, although later than I would run during the week. Actually, to be able to see clearly where I am heading is still a bit of a novelty, as I’m used to the half-light of pre-dawn in recent runs.

It’s pretty much all downhill from here, or flat. There are quite a few runners around, of varying abilities. One young man streaks past me and shrinks into the distance, and I think to myself that he is probably thirty years my junior, has never broken his femur in a race, and probably doesn’t have diabetes to contend with – this helps me justify the disparity in our relative speeds. Oh, and he probably hasn’t just run uphill for nearly two miles. I try hard, but can’t think of any more excuses why he has become an ever-decreasing dot in the distance!

Being familiar with the route, I know that it is going to take me much further than my recent training runs, and I am starting to tire as I glance down and see that I am now 4.5 miles into the run. I’m still quite a way from home, but I’m leaving the Common now and on my way back – a different route, more direct, and either flat or downhill all the way. Happily, my legs are not too jarred by the impact of running downhill, so I manage to get back in one piece and fit to run another day (probably a Tuesday, and probably this week!). In all I have covered 6.24 miles in around 63 minutes, which in metric equates to 10 kilometres! Not bad, given that I was finding 3.5 miles so challenging around ten days ago! I’m also interested to see that, for the first time since starting this blog, my blood glucose levels are actually lower than when I set off. This confirms previous findings that I can run for around 5 miles before needing any extra carbohydrate. This is something I will need to bear in mind and monitor as my training runs get longer.

On the fundraising front, things are a little slower, although I have many pledges of donations before the month is out, so it will be nice when they come in – I may even approach my revised target of £500!

Time               1hr 3 mins 24 secs

Distance        6.24 miles

Pace               10:10 per mile

BG before      8.4 mmol/l

BG after         6.3 mmol/l

Good morning Mrs Mallard!

I was feeling up for another run this morning so it was no trouble getting out of bed at 05:30. At one time, before diabetes, I would have had a mug of tea, donned my gear and been out of the door, but diabetes has changed this. For me, it’s one of the most inconvenient things about this disease – the lack of spontaneity. I discovered early on that I now need two things to have happened before I can set off for my early morning run: I need to have injected insulin around ninety minutes to two hours before setting off, and I need to have some food in my stomach. If I don’t inject and eat then my blood sugar levels will climb and climb, and I would place myself in danger of developing ketoacidosis. Having experienced that just the once, I never want to experience it again!

Diabetes is complicated at times, and it’s something that most non-diabetics would be totally unaware of – it’s not simply a case of injecting a fixed amount of insulin each day, you have to take into account how your body behaves at different parts of the day and alter things accordingly. Like many people with diabetes, mornings are the times when I am particularly resistant to insulin, and this, when coupled with an enthusiastic liver, eager to pump forth vast amounts of additional glucose into my bloodstream, means that my breakfast doses of insulin are much higher than at any other time of the day or night.

I discovered some time ago that the only way to keep my levels reasonable is to inject, wait for around half and hour, then eat a small amount of food – usually a slice of toast – then wait a further hour or so for that to begin to digest before I can get out of the door. This, unfortunately for me and my running, means that I have food digesting as I run which often causes sensations of nausea which in turn can make steady breathing difficult.

More of that later though, I am off out of the door in a shorts-and-tshirt darkened day before the dawn has broken. It’s cool, not cold, with a bit of a breeze which scarcely ripples the surface of the river alongside. My breathing is good and my legs feel strong, so I am striding out into the depths of the park, when suddenly I have to skip to the side upon encountering a man flanked by German Shepherds. Not two teutonic wolf-worriers out to defend their flock, you understand, but two large hairy creatures of canine descent. I was brought up to think of German Shepherds, also known as Alsations, as police or guard dogs, aggressive and to be given a wide berth at all costs. It’s probably a very unfair image, and these two hardly bat an eyelid (do dogs have eyelids?) as I pass, and my heart can slow again to a less agitated rhythm!

Passing alongside the far reaches of the river and approaching the bridge, a loud quack breaks the tranquillity, and I see a small group of mallards paddling past. I don’t speak mallard, but I imagine she is wishing me a cheery ‘good morning’, so I give her and her party a little wave. Of course, for all I know she may be saying ‘hey! You forgot your shorts!’, although I am not entirely sure what levels of humour might operate in the brain of a duck.

Up and over the bridge and I’m still feeling quite good. If it was light enough to see my Garmin, then I might be able to check my pace and progress, but it’s still quite dark and about twenty minutes from sunrise. I wonder to myself what time those ducks wake up and what prompts them? Down the main road and I find I am moving much faster than the adjacent stream of traffic, as it is stalled in the queue for the busy roundabout. Makes me feel smug! The smugness dissipates though as I turn the corner to encounter my last challenging hill of the route, and I realise that I still have a significant degree of fitness to acquire before the race!

Back in the park again, and that toast is starting to protest in my stomach – so annoying! Having not had to deal with this for most of my running career it’s taking some getting used to. It’s at this point that I realise what the wise Mrs Mallard was trying to tell me – ‘cut short your run by a quarter of a mile, that’s enough for today!’ So I do, and arrive home slightly earlier than planned!

Quick update – the postman has just delivered my fairy outfit! Eek!

Time               41 mins 33 secs.

Distance        4.24 miles

Pace               9:52 per mile

BG before      8.9 mmol/l

BG after         9.7 mmol/l