As somebody who's incredibly bad at plot, I must say I'm ridiculously proud of myself for the triple-cross that plays out at the end of this book.
It fills me with glee.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I wanted to start a training program that required me to be able to jog for 20 minutes in order to start with it, so tonight I figured I'd see about where my jogging ability was. The days of the 3 mile night run in Chicago were never picked up after I got sick, so I was interested to see about how I was.
I hate running more than just about anything else, especially post-diagnosis, because it's the exercise that will drop your blood sugar the fastest (pre-diagnoses, I just hated it because it felt absolutely dreadful and made me incredibly self-conscious). I remember jogging after lunch for a few months after getting diagnosed by going right after lunch and just shaving 2 units of insulin off my lunch bolus.
The great thing about a pump is that I don't have to experience a really high post-lunch number in order to make it to working out after work. But I had yet to find the right combo. It's one of the reasons I've avoided most of my post-work workouts since I got the pump.
But today was the day, so I decreased my basal rate to .15 for the hour and a half before I exercised and during the hour of exercise. I ended up jogging (at a verrrry relaxed pace, let me tell you) for about 25 minutes, with 5 minutes of warmup. It really wasn't bad at all, and my post-workout sugar was a comfortable 133, which means I have wiggle room to extend the time/up the pace and still not bottom out.
Looks like that basal rate schedule is a keeper, for now. Which makes me so happy you don't even know. Man, I hate figuring out new sugar tricks when I switch up routines. I hate lows. I hate feeling so awful during them. They just suck all the strength and willpower out of me.
The protagonist is jogging again.
How many miles to Lothlorien, again?