Yesterday I ran the Cleveland Half Marathon. I was nervous. It was chilly and the rain didn’t seem like it would let up. I tested at 170 (exactly what I like to start a long run with), and turned my basal rate down to 60%. I ran up to the start to warm up, and easily found the 3:40 marathon pace group (8:20 minute miles), which would keep me on target for my 1:50:59 half goal. We all shared our stories to help ease our pre-race jitters. I met a great group of women trying to qualify for Boston. They were inspiring, especially since I plan on being in their shoes someday. We stood talking through teeth-chattering, cold rain for what seemed like 30 minutes before the race finally started.

I had no problem keeping up with them for the first 3 miles, but I knew it felt fast and I wasn’t used to starting out like that, so I decided to fall back a little to an 8:30 pace and conserve my energy for the last 3 miles. The rain sucked, I wanted my iPod but I decided to follow the “no headphones” rule, and I was cold.

I saw Kyle at mile 4 and I it gave me a boost of energy. Notice my sopping wet hair and shirt…the rain was relentless. I had on a cotton throw away shirt so it was just soaking up all the rain and weighing me down like a cold, wet blanket. I threw it off somewhere around mile 5.5 on the shoreway.

I kept waiting to settle in to the run. Usually at around mile 5/6, I can feel myself relax and ease into a natural pace, but it wasn’t happening yesterday. I was tense and nervous and I kept checking my watch. I usually eat 2 Clif bloks at mile 6, but I was feeling a little high so I only ate one. There was no way I was going to slow down to test my sugar, and the rain was going to make getting an accurate reading nearly impossible. I was hanging in at an 8:20 to 8:30 pace for the next 4 miles, and I could feel it. I saw my friend’s husband at mile 10, and I tried to use the boost to speed up, but it just wasn’t happening. My legs were heavy and I knew that my sugar was still high, but I figured the speed would help to bring it down.

I saw Kyle at mile 11, coming down off the Superior Bridge. This was where I had planned to lay the hammer down and shoot for 8:00 miles until the finish, which I had been able to do during my last half. Again, the speed just wasn’t there. My legs were working as hard as they could, but that 8:00 pace was out of my reach. At this point I was really hurting, and I was just looking to finish.

I saw (heard) Aunt Jan yell “Go Erika” at mile 12 and I desperately wanted to kick it in gear. I knew my sugar was high. I could feel my legs burning and I was nauseous and tired, but I was within reach of my goal, and I knew that if I could lay down an 8:00 mile for this last stretch I would make it. I got in a bit of a foot race with a 20-something boy who kept trying to pass me, so it kept my mind off of the pain. My legs were on fire. When my sugar is very high during a run, it feels like my body is eating itself. My muscles burn and twinge and they feel tight and sore. I had done all I could do so I said out loud “oh well,” put a smile on my face, and ran as fast as I could to the finish. I finished strong, even with the burning pain I was in (I smoked the kid who was trying to pass me…he’s wearing the red shorts in the picture). I missed my goal by less than one minute. 1:51:55. I can’t help but curse myself for not running a little bit faster during the early miles, and not kicking it in a little more at the end. I should be proud. It’s a personal record, and over 20 minutes faster than what I did last year, but all I needed was one minute…and that’s hard to come to terms with.

I knew that my sugar was high. I knew that I wanted to give Kyle a hug. I grabbed a bunch of food for him (I couldn’t eat it, but he was standing in the rain for 2 hours, so I’m sure he was starving) and started scanning the crowds. I really was feeling nauseous at this point and my legs were shaking so I moved to the side to test. People were staring at me, and I was happy because I felt like I was going to fall over, so I would need them to notice if I did. My meter read 373. I bolused 3.3 units of insulin and called Kyle to tell him I was heading to the medical tent. I wasn’t sure if there was something wrong with my infusion set, so I needed to get to the tent in case I needed insulin via syringe. Thankfully, I found Kyle on my way out of the runner’s chute. I could tell he was scared. I was too.

Here I was in the medical tent, missing my friends Julie and Andrea at the finish, hoping that I could get out in time to watch David and Heidi cross the finish line of their very first half marathon. It was fate that I walked into that tent though. The physician working on me just happened to be an endocrinologist, a very knowledgeable and progressive one at that. He calmed me down and told me that he didn’t think I was dehydrated or in danger of DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis). He thought that the lack of insulin during the race combined with high adrenaline, led to my high blood glucose levels. I kept testing and it was slow to come down (it took almost an hour to get down to 326, which was what I was when they let me leave), but it gave us time to talk and exchange information. He said he was going to call his Medtronic representative in order to discuss a program to get local Type 1 Diabetic runners together and sponsored to wear CGMS sensors during races. He said we could even think on a larger scale once we get it started. I was giddy with excitement by the time they released me from the tent. I knew that my diagnosis would someday bring me back to the medical community, and working as a positive role model would be so fulfilling. I’d gladly wear a singlet that says Medtronic Diabetes if it meant raising money for research in technology and development, and exposure for broader insurance coverage of continuous glucose monitoring systems. As pissed off as I was to miss my goal, and have blazing high blood sugars…it led me to an endo that could quite possibly change my future.

We caught up with the crew (Uncle Mark, Aunt Jan, Heidi, Sita, and David) inside the Galleria. I got to give Heidi and David a belated post-race hug (congratulations, you both did great), and Sita so graciously gave me the best massage ever (if you live in Sandusky, she gets her license soon, so look her up). We exchanged race reports and headed our respective ways. Kyle and I went to the Winking Lizard for lunch, and I was thirsting for a beer so I tested before ordering…195, which felt like a perfect 120 after being so high for so long. I bolused for my beer, wings and pizza and experienced perfect blood sugars the rest of the day…weird, but I’m not complaining.

I fell asleep at 5, woke up at 10, and went to bed until 7:30 this morning…it felt fantastic.

Now the kids are home, everything is back to normal, and I’m ready to start training for my 4 hour Chicago marathon. As it stands, my toughest competition is diabetes, and if I work hard enough…I know I can beat it, even if it’s only by a minute…