Forty-eight

What a weekend! I started Friday with no real plans in place… my favorite way to start a weekend. One of the highlights came Saturday morning when a friend and I rode 48 miles! That’s right kids, a new record! When my friend, Michael, got to my apartment a little after 8, I broke the news to him. I wanted to do the marathon route twice. (Huntsville has a permanently-marked route for the annual marathon held every October). He called me insane and then he agreed. (Which I’d like to point out makes him equally insane). The first 26 miles were fairly easy. I had no moments of panic or sheer exhaustion and thanks to a banana at breakfast, I avoided lows. I’d also completed the marathon route several times before.

It was the second marathon that nearly killed me. I have never felt the pain I felt during that last 20 miles. My muscles ached, my derrière was stiff and I was sweating everywhere… literally everywhere. I could even smell my own body odor. I took the meaning of gross to a whole new level. The sun was excruciating and the entire ride was without shade. I would’ve given up around mile 37, but Michael was an excellent cheerleader and encourager.

While I’m incredibly proud I rode 48 miles, I’m also embarrassed. It took us forever. I needed to stop twice for lows. Michael ended up with a flat tire that required a mechanic trip. (Mad props to my friend Matt who saved the day. Go buy stuff at his shop. He is amazing! You can find him online here.) When we found a yard with shade, we stopped. Basically, it took me the amount of time it would take to ride an entire century… but I only rode half.

Halfway there.

And if you’re counting, 26 plus 26 doesn’t equal 48. We failed to consider we had to pass my apartment to complete the last four miles. After 48 excruciating miles, those last four seemed so pointless. Especially when faced with an air-conditioned apartment and iced water inside. But it was still a record broken — for me and for Michael.

Sure, I have lots of work to do, but one more hurdle crossed.

Diabetes notes: I ate two scrambled eggs and a banana for breakfast with no bolus. An hour later, we were on our bikes and I was 400, which REALLY bothered me. I bolused half of the recommended correction and stayed in the high 300s for the next two hours. I hate being that high, but I knew biking would drop it. After 26 miles, I was 191 with two arrows straight down on my CGM. That’s when I ate the applesauce. (See above photo). We had to stop twice for lows on the second marathon lap. I realized I didn’t have any lows the first half — which I’d ridden before. It was the additional distance when I felt lows. I guess there’s something to be said for training after all. Big thanks to Michael for being so patient with me! I don’t ride in groups because I don’t want to ask people to have to stop on my behalf. He was so kind, understanding and willing to wait for me.

In case you missed it, I’m training for a century! I’ll be riding 105 miles in Death Valley, Calif., in October to raise money for JDRF and research toward a cure for type 1 diabetes. Stay tuned for more ride information. To donate, click here. Every $10 helps people, so thank you!!