So I’m finishing up a week of pretty intense training, mostly in the weight room. But today was gorgeous, and it’s the weekend, and I say to myself, “hey, go put some of that training to the test, and go hike the local 14’er” Yeah, great plan DD. It was an awesome weather day, I wanted to hike with a loaded up pack and get some miles on the feet in the double plastic boots, which I’ll be wearing all winter. I really just wanted to go through the paces with my heavier winter equipment, while at the same time putting in a great workout, and throw in some altitude to boot. A great plan indeed.
Where I stumbled was taking a bit too much insulin with breakfast, and then not checking before I left on the hike. I probably actually was in perfect BG control, just not for exercise, especially not for intense exercise. Remember, I’m starting at just under 11,000 feet, with a 40 pound pack, wearing winter mountaineering boots. And oh yeah, I hike fast. Really fast.
I get about 20 minutes in and start sweating. I said it was a nice day, but not super warm. It was sunny. And I don’t sweat much. And then I start feeling slow. Like I shouldn’t be going this slow. That should’ve been the first sign. I knew I had a hard training week, but I should be flying up this hill because of that, not feeling like I was walking through 2 feet of mud. Grrr.
Finally I stop at a good stopping place, with a nice view. I hate to stop so soon. I just don’t like to stop. (Usually my hiking partners give me a hard time about that) I take the pack off, and I’m sweating like a.... Well, you can put your own joke in there. I’m sweating a lot. And it’s a cold sweat, dead give away. I check, I’m at 61, not good. Been going about 30 minutes, and ripping through calories at a pretty bitchen rate. Anyone wants to lose weight, come hike with me, but take my pack.
At that point, I should have stopped, sat, ate, and waited. Til my bg came back up. But instead I just started shoveling food into my mouth (two Clif bars, at about 48 grams of carbs a piece) and start hiking. “I’ll just go slow and muscle through this”, I say to myself. Which I did, it was a gorgeous day after all. And I ate enough to get my BG to around 6,000. But I knew it wouldn’t go up rapidly enough, not once I had gotten my heart rate up to a certain point and all the juices were flowing.
That’s what I’ve discovered about me anyway. As long as I start between 150 and 220, and I eat enough along the way, and keep good tabs on myself, I’ll be in great shape. But if I start my workout too low, it’s really hard to come up fast enough unless I totally sit down and eat and wait about an hour. And usually that’s not an option. I’ll come up, for sure, it will just happen after the workout. At that point, it’s best for me to call it a day, on working out anyway, and head home. But I did muscle through it, cause I’m stubborn, I get that from my Mom (thanks Irish Mom) and it was actually a really nice day.
I got home fine, everything was great, I’m healthy, and it was a beautiful day. But after I sat in the hot tub at the Rec Center, I get home to cook dinner, and by the time I get home, I’m dying of thirst. Which is a dead giveaway for another side of diabetes. Yep, I check, and I’m 324. Oh well, living with the betes, never a dull moment.