Tuesday August 1

Day 5 – Tinkering with my engine

The project: A month-long stint of pounding the fields and lanes of Sussex in my hapless and ill-advised attempt to complete a quintessentially English 5k race between two local pubs. Yes, a pint of beer awaits every finisher!

Dear Reader,

I’ve been thinking about all those metrics by which we are wont to judge ourselves: our ‘popularity’¹ can be measured by our number of likes or followers; the bathroom scales tell us if we’re not in ‘desirable’² range; I’m a ‘better’³ runner the more miles I rack up or the faster the speed I go.

But’s not about the numbers, is it? We know there’s more to life than those likes, those pounds and ounces, or those miles per hour.

Well, sometimes it is about the numbers. Living with type 1 diabetes is a tricky balancing act, with a body unable to lower its own glucose levels having to rely on exogenous insulin to do that job for it. High blood glucose is dangerous. Insulin is dangerous. Low blood glucose is dangerous. The irony has not escaped me in the 37 years with which I have lived with this condition that even the treatment for it makes me vulnerable.

My body – my engine – is very well tuned. I keep a very close eye on my numbers – obsessively so. I know that I need enough glycogen on board to fuel my day, my carbohydrate intake to be tailored perfectly for the right amount of insulin, and to make sure everything’s in balance with what I’m doing, too. Am I going to be sedentary or active today? Will I go for a run or not go for a run, and if I do, will it be a long one, or just a brief out-and-back? If I’m going to do an exercise video instead, will it be a HIIT cardio session, or a works-all-the-big-muscles resistance one? All of these are factors in a soul-destroying mix of high/low/don’t know unpredictability.

But you know what? I’m fine. It’s fine, and I’m doing fine.

Okay, I realised this morning that I hadn’t taken into account the change that all this exercise has made to my insulin requirements. I spent all night in the red zone, which is something that I could have avoided had I thought to reprogram the basal rate on my insulin pump.

I was lower than I wanted to be before I set off this morning. No worries: I set a TBR (temporary basal rate) of 20% on my pump, and chewed a glucose tablet (4g carbohydrate). I stayed in the black all the way round, job done.

And now? Now I’m going to reprogram my pump’s daily basal rate in order to reflect the changes in my body’s requirements. I clearly don’t need all of those units of insulin that I’m infusing, and there’s something I can do about that.

It really is all about the numbers.

The gadget on the left is the reader for the glucose sensor in my arm. The one on the right is my insulin pump. The white canister contains glucose tablets. When I’m out on a run I carry all of these (don’t laugh) between the two layers of my sports bra. Also pictured is the belt in which I carry my phone.

Today’s run was great. Yes, I was on the low side of my ideal range, but not hypoglycaemic. I was safe. I had no pain or stiffness from yesterday’s YouTube cardio session. I even managed some short sprints in my walk - jog - walk - jog session.

Now, if only I could run without those glucose tablets rattling all the way, I’ll have nailed it!

Love,

Rebecca

---

The Jog Log Stats – Day 5
Session: alternating walk/run
Distance: 3.94 km
Duration: 36:06 minutes
Average speed: 6.6 kph

---

Thank you for reading my Jog log!

Follow my month-long stint of pounding the fields and lanes of Sussex in my attempt to complete a quintessentially English 5k race between two local pubs.

I’m not sending these posts out by e-mail, but you can always check in with how things are going by clicking Jog log 🏃🏻 in the top navigation bar on the web browser version of my Substack homepage.

1. Ironic inverted commas, obviously. 👀

2. Ditto.

3. Okay, you get the picture.