Running with Type 1

Coming live from my Saturday afternoon couch surf, my son is napping, and quiet time seldom comes often around these parts. Nearly a year since my last post.  It was truly unintentional.  My personal laptop charger died last July, and I spend so much time on my laptop at work that during the evening and weekend hours, it quickly became an afterthought while chasing a 2 year old boy.  I do miss blogging though.  It's my creative outlet, my artistic interpretation of all things life has to offer, most times, when we least expect it.  I am going to jump right into it, COVID-19, yikes, who the hell saw that one coming?!  I mean, 2020 has really has had it's fair share of some bizarre, deeply introspective moments, and it's hardly even spring yet.  A diabetes diagnosis at 14 years old presents you with perspective, at an age where perspective is acutely understood.  Others have it much worse off though, and I rest on that.  I've had my fair ...

A random phone call from my Dad on my brother's birthday almost had me skip a heart beat or 2.  It had been over 2 years since he moved out west, and I had yet to visit him.  Life and limited vacation days weren't on my side.  Due to some hip trouble, my Dad couldn't fly and wanted my brother to have support for his first 50k.  I found out there was still registration for the Half Marathon distance.  I sent a snap of my registration confirmation to him, and he called me 30 seconds later, and the adventure was on. As we talked amongst the giddyness of our upcoming adventure, the realization hit me, this race began at 7,300 ft, and topped out a few feet shy of 9,000 ft of altitude.  My house sits at only a few feet shy of 1,100 ft, and I've only been over 5,000 ft once, and that was just standing there for a few minutes. "Dude, I don't want to sound worried, but how much of an affect will the altitude have on me?"  I nervously asked. "Haha well, ...

In the words of ultrarunning legend Hal Koerner, "Some will boil it down to chemicals, emotions, reasons why we crave it, but honestly, it's just a combination of all those things brought together in that moment, it's a beautiful, joyous thing."  My god, that's beautiful. I find running, even more so racing, metaphorically aligned well with our day to day.  We have those days, you wake up feeling refreshed, heart rate super low, you tackle the day before it has a thought to tackle you.  Then, we have the opposite.  Days where you seemingly can't get ahead, foggy and lethargic, just struggle busing on through. Ya know, those races, where everything possible aligned for you to have one of those magical runs, relatively speaking, you feel like Superman.  Paced appropriately, breathing and stride in sync, finishing strong.  Then, the races where almost immediately, your thoughts turn to, "oh for the love of god, just get me to the finish line." ...

Born and raised in the Pittsburgh region, your existence with the outdoors varies from one extreme to the next every few months.  I was born in June, yet the older I get, the more I don't enjoy summer as much.  Just so damn humid, and unless I am at the beach, anything above 70 degrees is too much. Which brings me to my current state of affairs, winter.  My relationship with December-March has changed drastically in the past few years.  My disdain for winter took on new heights my freshman year of college, trekking around our campus' hills and enduring wind gusts that seemingly never ended.  5am hikes across campus for workouts in the winter of 2007 further enhanced my loathing of the winter blues.  During the month of February that year, for the first time in my young life, I experienced seasonal depression.  It was very real.  Maybe a combination of stressors from school, and football, but my serotonin had to have been all kinds of whacked out...

"Son, I've said it once, twice, a thousand times, so I'll say it again.." *Andrew braces himself for another Dadism* "Life is the only subject you get the test first, and the lesson later."  My Dad loves that line, and if I had a dollar for everytime I've heard it, I'd be retired at 31.  Behind the cliche, it's so damn true and spot on though. I read through an old notebook from the last 18 months a few days back.  From the original inception of my intentions to commit to the marathon, to this past summer where I did my best to work well with high humidty and new venture into parenthood. For awhile I really questioned if I trained correctly.  Like any competitor when the outcome is far off from the intention, you're naturally forced to sit and reflect.  Ok, what went well and what went terribly wrong? After 4 months of reflection, I was patient with where my thoughts took me after that rough go in Morgantown.  A few thoughts that ...

"Hey, let's do a quick warm up lap then head up the hill, I need to wake up a bit" I suggested. "Ahh come on, let's just power hike up the hill and begin running from there," my brother nonchalantly rebuttled back.  So we began our "warm up" power hiking up the steepest incline in the park, watching my HR spike into the 150s, "hey dipshit, the key to a warm up is to get the blood flowing, not flirt with going anaerobic to begin a trail run," he laughed and shook his head in between heavy breaths.   As we finally settled into our Christmas Eve run through Brady's Run, our backyard stomping grounds, the trails were quite Beast Coast beautiful.  Mostly cloudy sky, 38 degrees, a frozen layer crusted the ground from the cold, as we climbed, descended and swung around switch backs for an eventful 7 mile run with 1100 ft of climb.  We solved the world's problems a few times, and tossed out crazy ideas for ourselves to tackle in ...

A week before flying overseas last August, I finished out my summer block of training with a 14 miler.  Somewhere later in that run, I committed to the marathon.  I called my brother later that morning, I jotted some notes, and for 54 weeks, it was thee unicorn. I had established a better understanding with my blood sugar management through 2 full years of half marathon training, and racing the last 5.5 years.  My blood sugar wasn't as much of an issue as 10-15 years ago as discussed in the past.  While always a priority in my training, and daily life, I've gained a lot of confidence in that realm.  I stick to a game plan that works best for me.  My blood sugar isn't perfect by a long shot, but it's consistent. Becoming a father and balancing our own endeavors forced me to become more creative with my time management.  Running wise, a supportive wife and being open to early mornings is the backbone to getting the time and mileage in.  I had a...

Been awhile huh?  A lot has happened since 2018 came upon us, and I've been holding on for dear life, but, all is well. Back tracking a few steps.. First, I now know that the cliche, "just wait until you have kids" isn't so much a cliche, but rather a humbling reality.  Your life really does get flipped upside down, in the most beautiful, exhaustive way possible.  My man is 6.5 months now, so the sleep does get better.  You just need to accept sleep walking for the first few months, and eventually, it balances out, hopefully. It was a long, and painfully cold winter.  I tip toed and flirted with exhaustion on a regular basis due to the lack of sleep and not so much overzealous workouts, as I have in the past.  I had a lingering foot, ankle injury that I couldn't seem to shake for the 2nd half of February and all of March.  I'd take several days off, run easy and feel good, and within 24 hours, the lingering pain would creep back in.  It ...

I have another splash of caffeine on a Sunny Friday morning. A light workload for the day, before 8 am, the weekend is oh so close, and the good vibes are flowing. Jotting down some random clutter in my head, I get an itch to check the local race schedule.  With a Half Marathon in 3 weeks and 2 weeks post a 30k road race, I am planning on a few more strong yet shorter efforts.  All in an effort to peak for 13.1 on 5/6. "Hmm..no 5ks in sight, 10k maybe?"  I ponder back and forth, ultimately deciding against any spur of the moment race effort. All of a few moments later, I jot down another note, and then, like most impulsive runners, "Alright, one last look.  How about runhigh.com?"  We're in luck.  Saturday April 14th, 22nd Annual Martha's Run, 10K @ Mt. Lebanon High School.  I read in a little more; oh wow, there's a lot of history here.  It's a tribuatory race towards a local slain officer who loved to run.  I call my wife, s...

"Just wait until you're my age, kid.." A phrase that is used and abused, one that sends shockwaves down my spine as nails on a chalkboard, yet a phrase that unfortunately carries some truth.  Growing up as athletes, it's like we're blessed with endless energy and our days are non stop.  Heavy weights in the gym, pick up basketball for a few hours, come home, shower and then head out until late night.  Maybe eat some junk food past midnight, get to sleep late, wake up and do it again.  You're invincible with hardly any color under your eyes.  Somewhere in your late 20s, at least for me, but many others alike, you start to take a second look at your life's shenanigans and wonder how you can better utilize time, and more importantly, rest.  The idea of overtraining or going too hard wasn't even a thought until almost 29.  I jumped into Half Marathon training, and too my ignorant surprise, I was terribly run down and my vitals had shown it.  C...

A fair question to runners, what makes you tick?  What's so damn enticing about the whole endeavor? I ask myself this quite often.  I didn't grow up with runners in my family, it was nothing that I was ever exposed to at a young age.  I grew up in a football obsessed family and community.  I've alluded to this before in earlier posts, but until 21 years old, anything over 1 mile was long distance running.  I am not even sure if I ran for 30 minutes straight before I was about 23. To have predicted that in 2018 that I'd be training for my first marathon is about as bizarre as it gets. Initially there was zero desire to venture towards 26.2, very naive and humble beginnings. When you hear somebody say, "running is an addiction," I'd gladly co sign that statement.  If a licensed psychologist was to break down the psychology of endurance runners, there would be many parallels to an addictive personality, for a lack of better terms. I've found the r...

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...

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...