North Myrtle Beach, Baby
Ok, so I finished school on Thursday - used 2 snow days that I had that I never had to use and we went to the beach on Saturday for a week. It was a really great opportunity - a friend of Kathy's just called her up and said that someone had cancelled from renting her place at the beach and would we all want to go? Well, yea! We took our cousin Morgan and she and Zoe had a blast. We did a lot of wave riding, coquina clam catching, mole crab hunting, sand castle building, did some kayaking to the pristine Waties Island, did some crabbing, eating, sleeping, etc. All good vacation stuff. I didn't take my bike and I was freaked out about swimming in the estuary (hello bull shark...or perhaps sand tiger) after Peter's close call - so that left running. The first day I ran 8 in the middle of the day. After that close call with death, I ran earlier or later. I did a few 12's and some shorter runs - all in all it was good. Except for the 7 miles I ran one night. I didn't prepare in terms of insulin or food - I was 128 when I left so I popped 3 cookies and away I went. Big mistake. By 1.7 miles...oddly enough, right next to a McDonalds...I tested. 47. Nice. I haul my pale, sweating face into Mickey D's and pull out my emergency $2 bill and get a small drink. The person at the counter took one look at me and handed me the cup and my money back. I filled it up a few times with something like Hawaiian punch and downed a pure fit bar. I figured I would be good to go. So off down the road I go. I end up running on Hwy 17 in a stretch that might as well be purgatory. There is nothing there. Its a 2 mile stretch between Hooters and the Mall. Tons of cars and a tiny path that can barely be seen. Then it hits. Aside from having a full stomach of Punch and chocolate bar - my intestines decide to revolt. Make it to the Mall, I thought. After what seemed like forever, I get to the front doors of the mall just as the security guard is locking up. So I test. 56. Nice. I ate a couple packs of gummy somethings... legos, I think....and my stomach is as full to the brim. Off I go. Low and really suffering intestinally. After another eternity...with some brief stops to do my Lamaze breathing... I make it back to the Mickey D's...which can't be good in terms of karma - they were so nice to me and I was so bad to them...So I test again. 57. Sweet. I've been running low the entire time, why stop now? So off I go the last 2 miles without eating anything. Did I mention that it was super humid and hot, too? All in all a really pleasant time. I woke up the next morning over 300. That's triabetes for you....Diabetes with a sense of madness.
