Running with Type 1

At the beginning of 2017 I channeled my focus on getting more time on my feet and logging more miles.  After the death march of my first Half Marathon in May 2016, I loved the hurt so much, I had to do it again.  Odd?  Yes, probably. I ran for years before, but crossing that finish line of the HM after several 5 and 10k's let me know, there's a lot of room for improvement.  I now consider 2009-2015 my ramp up years.  I was running for fitness, blood sugar control and the fun happy endogenous chemicals following a run. My quest to run 100 miles in one month was something looming over my head for awhile.  In reality, it's a pretty modest number of miles for a guy aspiring to run Half Marathons and eventually 26.2 and beyond.  But, I am realistic. Jumping up from my usual 15 mpw split across 3-4 runs for years, to suddenly ramp up to 50 mpw would be a recipe for disaster.  I want to be smart with my approach.  30 years from now, I hope to be the wild 60 year old, refusing

After years of keeping a personal journal, and brainstorming with my younger brother, I finally pulled the figurative trigger with a blog, one year ago today. No it hasn't generated a million followers, no I haven't gained sponsorship.  Collectively, I may have a couple hundred views.  However, that's a couple hundred more views that I wouldn't have if never published.  Maybe, just maybe, somebody came across my stories and found themselves relating to their own journey thus far, and clicked away with some positive reinforcement. I opened up with word vomit about my early struggles with diabetes and the slippery slope of athletic dreams.  Being an athlete was something that gave me identity, it gave me confidence, it gave me desire to keep pushing. I didn't know what anxiety was in high school.  I didn't understand the cumulative impact my nightly panic attacks were taking on me, yet.  Terrors of low blood sugar and waking up in a hypoglycemic seizure fill

"In our 40 years of the Pittsburgh Great Race, we're experiencing record high heat, stay hydrated, be safe out there, good luck runners.." Blood sugar, in check.  I pat both pockets, 1 chocolate GU, 1 salted caramel GU.  Shoes tied.  Phone securely locked in place on my waist belt, my tunes at an appropriate level.  The countdown to the gun, now under 1 minute.  I took a few deep breaths, closed my eyes, opened them up, seconds before the gun.  I glanced ahead, the gun is fired. The summer heat was brutal here in Pittsburgh.  I pushed through every run and told myself, tough training for fast fall racing.  The past two years I've raced in end September, especially last year, the cool Autumn air was in full effect.  Last year I can recall wearing a beanie because the morning air was quite chilly. Conditions out of a racer's utopia.  I checked the weather forecast one week prior to race day, my mouth dropped.  "Sunday September 24, High 90, mostly sunny.&qu

A cool sweat dampens my skin.  I momentarily pant out of breath as I just sprinted to the finish of my parked car.  I look to my right and see a moon lit sky reflecting off the water, stars scattered across the horizon, the town is quiet, the scenery is rather mystic.  I continued to walk down River Road, euphoric, slighty cramping from the earlier Wendy's burger, but appreciative.  Nestled quietly off to the side of the Ohio River, 38 miles north of Pittsburgh, lies River Road, a runner's sanctuary that just so happened to be in my hometown.   My eyes and fingers could only take so much time in front of a lap top during my student teaching semester, and a night run 2-3 times a week became an introspective routine that brought everything together for me.   A year later in Summer 2011, I volunteered to work at a 5k night race, originally developed by my fellow coach, a local favorite, "Howl @ The Moon."  I thought it was so cool.  My running legs were getting

I remember hearing about Dean Karnazes sometime in the last 10-12 years.   A high energy jumping jack type on late night tv talking about running 50 marathons in 50 states, in 50 days.  I had never been exposed to any road or trail runners growing up in my family or any family friends for that matter.  I only knew of running through track, football, olympic sprinters and a few mid distance runners.  Anything beyond the mile lap was "endurance running" to me.  Dean Karnazes though was a type of runner I never knew existed. I like to believe that I helped play a role in the pioneering of youtube and the now famous google search to be what it is today.  I began searching the blogs, surfing youtube, and reading about runners that run distances farther than a marathon, some even up to 100 miles and beyond.  I am sorry, what? I like many others immediately dismissed this as bullshit, and wondered, "and they don't die, how?" Yet, it was captivating. A natural react

While I didn't chase down a BQ or an OT qualifying time, Sunday May 7's Pittsburgh Half Marathon to me was one of those moments that I'll never forget. From being a young kid who could barely sleep the night before our Elementary School's Jog-A-Thon, to my 8th grade season of the 1 mile and 800, to the years I chased down a football dream, the disappointment and fears of what my own body could withstand, to finally saying, you can do this. My relationship with this sport is innate.  It was disguised for years as something else, ultimately leading me back to square one.  I'd be lying to say I haven't wondered what could have been if I'd stuck with distance running and building off a 5:28 1 mile PR I ran in 8th grade, 2 weeks shy of my diabetes diagnosis.  I can never go back in time, but thoughts such as those also inspire my present day. Last winter I was in a heavy strength training block, still logging some miles here and there, maybe 10-12 miles a w

Matt and I really credit our brotherhood from a trip to Florida we took together in 2006.  We stayed with family in Clearwater, Florida, 3 weeks before I left for college.  I had just turned 19, and he was 16.  I didn't have a car down there, and I was still very much a night owl at that time, so we found ourselves on their back porch talking until 3-4 AM every night.  Never once had we bonded like that before.  We were telling each other secrets, reliving moments of our youth together, asking opinions on various topics, it was like you just met somebody for the first time.   We both endured a not so poetic ending to our football careers.  While all these CTE headlines have taken over the airwaves the last 5-6 years.  Matt was a few years ahead of the wave.  He sustained a pretty nasty concussion during a JV game in Fall 2006.  That was roughly his 4th or 5th suspected concussion, and while he didn't have the science we're becoming increasingly aware of yet, he just

I arrived on the Robert Morris University campus on August 8th, 2006.  With new earrings, a shaved head, and an athletic frame, I was ready for college football.  I was an All Conference DB and Honorable Mention WR in High School.  I can't even admit that I was the best on my high school teams, but I had some fun moments that I'll always cherish.  My expectations were relatively low going into camp.  I wanted to prove I was in great shape, ready to do what was asked of me, gain respect from my elder teammates, and just survive that August heat in pads.  After my parents dropped me off that morning, reality kicked in.  There were no smart phones yet, myspace and instant messenger were the only real means of communication.  I was actually three weeks shy of joining facebook (proud to say I've been book free for 5.5 years.)  I had no laptop yet in my room, only my thoughts and a reality check were consuming my free time until team dinner.  I met with my position coach that ni

HbA1c. Oh boy.  You would think after 8 consecutive years of 7.6 and lower a1c readings, the fear of my endocrinologist and this number would fade away, nope, not even close. One of the original benchmarks I learned about in regards to diabetes long term care was an, "a1c."  It was explained to me as a 3 month average of your blood sugars, and anything 7.0 and below was considered the goal for a long, healthy chance at life.  I vividly remember my first 3 a1c readings, 6.3, 6.6, 6.8. Summer 2002-Spring 2003.  My Dr's praised me, congratulated me, reconfirming I was on the right path. Then, for the next 5 years, the struggle was real. Let's take a few steps back.  HbA1c, the measurement of a binding molecule in our red blood cells, that when connected with glucose, creates a "glycoslated hemoglobin a1c." This process increases the overall level of a1c in our blood.  The higher the % of a1c, the more glucose there is running through your body, inhibiting o

Self awareness.  A heightened state of being.  Some might fear it, some might be confused by it, some really never perceive it. Our perception of self awareness should be continually evolving.  My perception of self from 2010 (college graduation) to present day, has indeed evolved, a few times over by now actually.  If I were to sit back and ponder the moments that impacted me, I'd be sitting here for awhile.  That's a good thing though in my eyes. Patience, and my lack there of.  To any of my dear friends whom were with me along the way growing up, I'd like to believe most would say I was a good guy, maybe a bit of a clown at times but, my heart was in the right place.  I am sure some would recall a bit of a temper, maybe a bit scattered, lacking patience and while I was never ever aggressive, my mood could take odd swings, and sadly I knew this.  Like most hormone raging adolescents, we hopefully get it right in time.  I am here speaking to my 15-23 year old s

My approach to running evolved from a blend of desire, curiosity, and passion.  There's never been any real intent on being the best at a local race.  The desire to push my own limits and learning how to embrace the uncomfortable parts of the competition is honestly my favorite part. The post race coffee, omelette and pancakes are maybe just as epic as the finish line sprint too. Signing up for a local race doesn't warrant prize money, shoe sponsors or even highlights in the newspaper.  What I've found so unique in the running community though is regardless of age, ability, and racing experience, the camaraderie and spirit that exists amongst the crowd is something special. I appreciate and enjoy watching the early 20 somethings or high school freaks put on a show based on their youth and pure strength, but for me, the inspiration for the sport comes from the several decades plus runners, staying at it and passing down the figurative torch to all those who lace '

Waking up at 5 AM and working out by most would be considered less than ideal.  Why the hell would you want to sacrifice an extra hour in bed to get up without eating, and start working out? My earliest experience with this crazy routine happened when I was 17.   Winter and Spring 2005 was an awesome time.  The excitement of senior year football was on the horizon, summertime, football camps, the prime of our adolescent innocence.  I ran track in high school, majorly underachieved, but I still ran and had some fun.  I gave an honest effort as a sprinter, but I was a mid distance runner at heart.  No way could you tell me that in high school though.  I could always hold a pace that real sprinters could not.  My speed was average at best in 100-400 meter sprints.  Should have been my "ah ha moment."  The bigger goal on the horizon was committing to a strict weight training regimen during track season and aimed for a 405 squat by summer.  So that meant one thing, I had to lif

One of my biggest annoyances in discussion is the "wait until your my age" song and dance.  I 100% acknowledge the realities of aging.  In respect to myself, look at a picture from 16 to 21, 21 to 29, and you'll visibly see aging.  Hopefully nothing too drastic by 29 but the rate of change men and women naturally endure post 30 is inevitable. Individuals who haven't invested much time into a regular exercise regimen, diet and rest during their life, and preach about how bad we'll feel at their age, really need to reexamine their approach.  When I was 20-23, I was curious if by 30, I'd begin to feel physically different.  Not as quick, not as strong, maybe a lack of wind?  I would say no to all three of those earlier questions, and while my weight room all out strength has dropped since I was 19 and 20, my approach to overall fitness has shifted. My perspective has matured into sustaining a level of training for many decades, keeping my testosterone just hig

In the not so verbatim, wise words of Uncle Joey Diaz, "yeah 2016 was tough and it makes me feel a certain way, but us savages are still standing and that's all you can focus on."  Amen. Embrace what you have and continue to work on what you aren't satisfied with.  Sounds cliche I know, but the more I think about what a cliche is, the more they make sense.  I view cliches as bits of wisdom simplified down to the importance that we savor them for.  Cliches hold a lot of genuine truth too but sadly can get dismissed as the same ol', same ol' rhetoric.    I ponder a lot around this time of year.  I am honest about my direction, past events, patterns of behavior, and i've found it to be a healthy practice for my evolution.  Getting too caught up in a past event though isn't an efficient use of our time and energy.  I am guilty as charged, as I am sure we all have been at moments.   Our goals are relative to what we desire.  Some goals are long t