That’s exactly how it went down. 
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This week you will have to do a lot of waiting. And on Saturday there is a lot of time while you are running. All of that time gives you a chance to hear a lot of stuff. There are voices, both internal and external, that speak to you.
Is this race something you should be doing? It’s one thing to run a 5k, but a half marathon? It’s not really something a diabetic should be doing. It’s not your fault you are a diabetic. You don’t have to do this. Nobody will blame you for not running this race.
Why not just go to the race and watch it instead? Get some poster-boards and some colored pens and some glitter. Make some pretty signs. And when all the beautiful non-diabetic people run past you can shout things like “Way to go!” and “You got this!”. You can admire them for how awesome their pancreases are. And it’s okay to feel jealous and wish you had a pancreas like them.
If you want, you can even bring a lawn chair to sit in on the sidewalk as they run past. That way you will be extra comfortable as you cheer for them. And after the race you can go home and celebrate by taking some insulin and eating a few crackers and thinking how great they are for what they did.
Maybe you didn’t train properly. Again, that’s not your fault. Your coach is an idiot. Such a bizarre mix of different types of runs, never any consistency from one run to the next. All of that diabetes hocus-pocus and those pithy little aphorisms all of the time, like “feel your run” or “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Gee thanks, genius.
Maybe it would be better to just jog on occasion. And then every few years if you really think you are up for it, you could try to complete a 5k or something. Just stay in your comfort zone. Staying in your comfort zone is much more comfortable. It’s much safer there.
Anyway, as I was saying, this week there is a lot of opportunity to hear negative voices, both internal and external. Tell me about those voices and how you respond to them. What do you say to the voices of doubt? Put your angry eyes in and tell me.
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Okay, so this was actually an assignment. I skimmed quickly at a traffic light and crossed my fingers it was some kind of rhetorical question. But you actually mean for me to talk about my own inner voices… and my response to them.
Right. That kind of caught me off guard.
Your taunts and warnings and jabs and whatever else you just let loose up there were not the way mine sound. Well, there were actually a few… the ones that cast doubt (maybe out of concern and maybe not), the ones that want me to stop the things I’m doing now that are bringing me happiness and setting me free because of the burden it puts on them—the perceived risk. I’ve needed every single one of these runs, the ones they were willing to hear about, to prove to them I’m not too sick, not too weak, and am not going to quit. It’s taken me this many runs to silence all of those protests. But they’re not really silenced. They’re pacified. And at the first sign of failure, distress, pain, weakness… at the first sign of stumble, no matter how small, they’ll grow louder. If I crack, then I’ve got to get back up from under them—from under the weight of a million you can’t, you shouldn’t, you won’t messages I’ve heard along the way. It’s not malicious what I hear but overbearing. It’s meant to keep me safe, but it keeps me afraid. And although I can handle the messages when I’m fresh, they’re hard to manage when I’m tired. And they’ll be talking on Saturday. Of this, I’m sure. They’re talking now.
I don’t have a strategy for when they start. I do my best not to listen. I don’t talk back. I try to dig into whatever I can to just get it done despite the incessant blathering. I can’t make them stop. I only try to focus my energy, attention, thoughts, whatever somewhere apart from them.
Now that I’ve looked over your message again, I realize you are looking for my fire, but…
I don’t know. I know there will be negative voices all week, I know the ones inside will be the harshest, but the combined message will be thick. You can’t, you shouldn’t, you won’t is already filling the air. I’m just keeping my eyes down and sticking to the plan. It’s a non-action. The voices will remain.
Dang. I didn’t know we were doing therapy tonight, but my guess is you didn’t know either. Maybe you thought I was good at telling them off. I’m not. I’m just skilled at functioning with them in the background. I will just keep my eyes down Saturday and let them say what they want.
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Tell them to shut the hell up. Your body can do this. You’ve proven that. If your mind doesn’t believe it, you tell it to shut up.
You don’t need your brain and your mind for this at all. You only need your legs and your heart.
Run the first 10 miles with your legs. Run them hard, but smart.
The last 3 miles, run those with your heart. And not the heart that beats.
I know you can do this, your legs know you can do this, and your heart knows you can do this. And on Saturday so will all the rest of you. And then those internal voices of fear and doubt and uncertainty will never speak to you again. And the external ones won’t matter.
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Wow! That inspired me, and I’m not even training! With a coach like @Eric, @Nickyghaleb is going to do better than she ever expected. And when she does, @Eric is going to be one proud coach, and deservedly so.
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As much as he has taught me and shown me through this whole trip, I can’t think of anything I’d want more than feeling I made him proud.
Just my feeling it…he doesn’t actually have to be it.
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I think @Nickyghaleb is writing a novella…lol
I’m not sure if it’s coincidence (don’t believe in them), but when I laced up my shoes today, I felt strong. Maybe it’s that the race is close, or maybe some of the voices heard that 
last night. I’ve also been walking around telling people to shut the hell up all day so I suppose it could be that, too.
That gave me chills. I’m going to memorize it. Already half have.
I didn’t mean to disappear after this last night. It’s a lot to process. I get myself through things, but it’s probably not often the right way. You’ve been asking me, from the very beginning, to do things the right way. Asking me to think about the messages, to not have the coffee, to keep to the pace… and as stubborn as I am, and as much as I think I need whatever it is I think I need, I’m trying to do it right. This is so sappy. I know it is. But I’m alone, under an overcast sky, with a sad breeze, and all of this is in my head. And has been. All of this is about way more than running. It’s about life, growing, changing, fighting, and shedding fears. So what if it’s sappy. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for, and maybe this is the best way to say thanks.
You actually may have fallen asleep.
Holy ■■■■. I could really honestly talk for hours about all this, so I’ll stop.
Thank you. And all that stuff about my coach being an idiot— I never really believed it. Not most of it at least. I’ll write up my run today in a new comment. So wake up.
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That made me snort. But it’s cool because I’m still mostly alone. Except for that kid over there who’s watching me, kinda grossed out. 
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And my phone’s gonna die, so the universe has implemented a word limit… I’ll do it fast.
Hour ZB, no coffee or other nonsense. And was doing 3.5 miles on the treadmill with a few little bursts.
Had a banana just before starting.
Starting BG: 73
Mi 1 78
Mi 2: 89
*.1 unit bolus
*Resume basal
Mi 3: 83
Mi 3.5: 77 finish
Walk 1/2 got off at 91 (.5 unit bolus)
RPE was low… very easy run, and pain was not what it was yesterday, but it was also not like it’s been. Some twinges. I focused on getting myself together when I felt stuff. Which is probably not a bad life strategy, too.
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adulting sucks! You Ms @Nickyghaleb are going to surprise everyone and most importantly yourself!
p.s. I think @Eric sent the kid picking his nose to make sure you are ok and watch over you like some type of guardian. 
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Thursday and Friday will be your hardest days this week. Saturday will be the easiest.
All your stress and worries will just fade away. There aren’t any nosy neighbors, or a busy-body homeowners association. No social climbers, no gossipers, no backstabbers. No dishonesty or mistrust. No hidden agendas or questionable motives.
Everything is directly in front of you. You see everything you need to see.
You will only have 13 problems to solve, and you solve them one-at-a-time and in order. Nothing is better than race day.
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Am running through here just to say I did 2.5 miles today at 8:34. You said 2, but you also were leaning toward 3 yesterday, so I just met you in the middle. Felt great. Starting BG 100 and finished at 97. RPE 5.
Must go start getting stuff together. Before seriously I am stuck doing it last minute…
And am letting your race day promises settle into my brain. If all does sound so nice. 
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that’s usually my thing…last minute lucy…aaaargh!!!
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What time do we breath 
tomorrow?
We need 15 minutes.
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I didn’t forget. I’ll be ready around 11??? That allows for coffee time, inner reflection time, teeth brushing time (maybe)…
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Okay.
Okay.
What a day.
I’d start explaining it… but I seriously might not stop until tomorrow.
So I’ll start with the highlights (knowing an explanation is bubbling up inside, so it’s close behind).
Have NO idea what happened to my blood sugar overnight. Woke up at a 200. Did a 4 unit IM and 2 unit IV and had a coffee. 250. I was hoping to eat some carbs for breakfast and to go ZB before the race, so I wasn’t too happy. Repeated IV. 275. Packed up my stuff (including my second coffee) and got in the car for the hour and a half drive (with mom at the wheel 
). After a good wait, my BG was a 150, so I figured I was good to go on the second coffee. And almost instantly, again, 250. 
. I had a couple of hours before race time, but the LAST thing I wanted was any IOB… so I went for another IV (which I would repeat either once or twice more before the drama was over). With ALL of that insulin, I finally got myself down to a 150 again where I stayed until the start of the race. Not an ideal morning for blood sugar… and no carbs. 
On our way up to the table, find a tick in mom’s ear. That’s not critical information, but it MIGHT explain why she just posted a pic of my race to my Facebook group. 
Anyway, I did cut the basal at 6:30 with a BG of 150 (and 2,000 units of insulin on board), and it stayed JUST THERE until the race start at 7:30.
Starting BG: 153
Mi 1: 159
Mi 2: 177
*.2 unit pump bolus—- but think my infusion set was already out
Mi 3ish: 157
Mi 4: 42 (Dexcom 227)… 
Mi 4.1 error, 4.2 error, 4.3 error
Mi 5: error 
*Huma (because I was thinking about that 157 and that .2 units and started getting nervous)
Mi 6: 149
Mi 7: error
Mi 8ish: 111
Mi 9ish: 112
Mi 10: … ERROR. 
I have photo evidence, smile and all, of how happy I was as I passed through 10. I’m actually putting in my test strip in the pic… but when it came up E2 (what IS that???), things went south with a magic kind of quickness. I was too tired to be playing error games.
*Huma it is then (to my very queasy stomach’s dismay)
Mi 11ish: error 
Mi 12: … wasn’t going to bother…
*transcend and SICK.
Mi 13.1 (already!): 1 frickin 56.
Off to the medic’s tent… I think. Oh, yes, that’s right. It was in ANOTHER pic my mom posted. So, yes, medic’s tent. Where people explained to me how to manage my diabetes. 
If I didn’t explain any of it, which it appears I couldn’t even save that for the end, the numbers actually aren’t half bad. But it was really a ride.
A bumpy ride.
Nauseatingly bumpy.
@Eric, I’m providing all this detail for you. I know how you like that.
Felt great for the first 7 miles. Didn’t even realize I was running. I was supposed to keep to the pace of 10 min for the first mile and 9:13 for the next 4. Dropped that ball. Nothing over 8:38 for the first 7 miles. Then mile 8 had a really ugly hill. Almost everybody walked. I ran—afraid that if I walked then, I would walk the rest. I probably should’ve walked. Actually, I probably should’ve followed the pace for the first 7. That may have done the trick, too. Maybe. Anyway, mile 8 was the first mile to be on my mind, and it got progressively harder after that until miles 11-13 found me way beyond rational thought or awareness of any of my senses. Oh! And my feet… damn if they weren’t both 100% numb by mile 9—up to about the thigh. Up to the hip at the finish.
Okay. I’ll save all the excuses.
I finished in 1:58:20. Which I’m trying to be okay with. I finished 9th out of 97 females in the 40-49 age group. Which I’m trying to be okay with ONLY because 4 of them passed me in the last mile and a half when I was unplugged from reality (3 in the last half?). And I finished 34th out of 305 total females. Probably like 9 of them got by when… 
Room for improvement. I’ve written down all their names, and I’m marking them for the next one. I was upset when I finished and immediately thought that I would never, ever, ever do another one, but I’d like to do another one. There’s no doubt.
So.
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Yay!!!
She persisted.
Total baller.
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I think that’s wounderfull, my only question is why are you running in the 40-49 group when obviously you should be in the 20-29 age group.
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