Each training run this week gets me one step closer, and I decided last night at 10:30pm to go outside and get my 5 mile run over with. What's the difference between that time of night and 5am, right?
But before I could go outside I heard Leah's pump beeping low...85....not too bad, and we haven't really had unexpected lows popping up at night lately, so after giving her half a juice box I ventured out for my run.
It was a beautiful night. There seemed to be a million stars in the sky, the air was cool and crisp, and the darkness is always sort of comforting to me while I'm running. It was a nice chance to get out and clear my head after a long day, and I knew when I was finished I could just go home, go to bed, and sleep a little longer in the morning.
Wrong. As soon as I walked in, I heard the pump again. (My sleeping husband hadn't heard it yet). 65 this time. Another juice box. I stayed up awhile to keep an eye on things.
1:00 a.m. rolls around and she's low again. Another juice box. Suspended the pump so she wasn't getting any insulin. Tried to get to sleep, which of course is next to impossible when your child is in the next room teetering on the verge of dangerously low blood sugars.
I've often thought about the similarities between long distance running and diabetes. They are both physically demanding and take a tremendous positive mental attitude to get through. But the running is just plain easy compared to the day to day crap that diabetes dishes out. On marathon day, my body will hurt at the 20 mile marker, I'll somehow make myself keep running through the pain, and then it will be over.
Diabetes will not go away. Leah will need to endure for years and years to come. She'll need an attitude that keeps her going, even when her body is beat up from injections and site changes, and her mind just tells her to quit. Her 26.2 miles is the course of her life with type 1 diabetes, and it's definitely a marathon, not a sprint.
|Leah and her brother at a Kids Fun Run this summer.|