A maple movie!

Rob and Chloe's Maple Syrup - Since 2009

This weekend, as I dipped my finger into delicious homemade maple syrup, still warm and subtly smokey from the fire on which it was boiled, I had a sweet revelation:

If you're always waiting for the 'perfect time' or 'perfect situation' to do something, you might just miss out on something sweet.

Let me explain. A few years ago, Rob and I decided that at some point in our lives we would make maple syrup. This idea didn't just come out of thin air. A few generations ago, Rob's great grandparents bought a piece of land on a lake in the Muskokas and started to build. Like his grandparents and parents, he grew up spending large parts of each year at this second home; the cottage. Family ties and cottage friendships that were forged generations ago remain strong and many traditions developed early are still recognized and enjoyed today.
For Rob, maple syrup from the sugar bush just down the road was synonymous with "the cottage". The big orange can with the drawing of the horse and log cabin with smoke billowing from the chimney and the man in the plaid coat that is impossible to pour without spilling...well, there was just nothing better, no taste that better defined what 'cottage' meant - sweet, simple and even better than you remembered it.
Which is why it was so sad when the owner and family friend, passed away....so sad when the sugar bush just sat idle that first year...and so sad when the realization that a piece of history, a piece of tradition had been laid to rest.

I didn't take long however before Rob started pondering the possibility of running that sugar bush himself...and that's when the dreaming began - one day, we would run that sugar bush. We would ask for permission to borrow the land and small cabin. We would live at the cottage and chop wood and collect sap and boil down and sugar off - we would live the perfect life for a few short weeks, maybe a month if we were lucky. One day we would run the sugar bush, one day we would make our own syrup . . .

But then years passed, seasons went by and still, not a drop of sap was harvested. I would still think about it, even talk about it regularly with Rob as we drove by the bush on the way to the cottage.....one day, I thought....we would run that sugar bush....when the time was right.

So when I retrned home from dog sledding and Rob said "I'm making maple syrup". I was totally confused. How? What? When did he ask for the land? We didn't have time to live up there for weeks right now? We didn't even know HOW to make mayple syrup.

But Rob was one step ahead - he had already borrowed, collected and scavenged everything we needed to run our very own backyard sugarin' operation - including the trees! He had already read 'Backyard Sugarin'' and had plans and materials for the construction of an evaporator to boil down the sap. He had even been given all the mason jars a guy could dream of from his mom and grandma to store the maple goodness!

In fact, he was already tapping trees around the place that he was working!

Sap was already flowing!


By the time I got my butt up north, there was already 1 cup of first sweet dark syrup in a mason jar in the fridge and 180L of sap waiting to be boiled down. Although that might not sound like much, it was quite the accomplishment for a solo backyard, first-time sugarer. Rob was on top of things in his make-shift sugar bush. Anything he didn't know, he would refer to the 'Backyard Sugarin'' book for. Just like that - a dream had become reality. I had made it just in time!


As we sat waiting for our last batch of the day to do it's finally rapid bubbly boil (after 12 hours I might add!) and as the sweet aroma of maple syrup began wafting from the pan, I couldn't help but be a little reflective.

It wasn't the way I had pictured it all coming together. Conditions weren't perfect - there was no picturesque cabin in the woods, no professional set up for the boiling off and no fancy means of collecting the sap. It wasn't in 'our' sugar bush - the one we had always pictured ourselves in and we didn't have weeks on end to spend in the forest.

I have to admit, if it was up to me, I would have still been waiting for the perfect time. I had put that future experience into a tidy little box, with such strict guidelines and regulations for success that it really would have been a miracle if we ever got a drop of sap, let alone syrup.

But there we were, the two of us, sitting in the warm sun on a beautiful spring day, the smell of wood smoke heavy in the air and just moments away from having our first real batch of our own maple syrup!

What I realized in that moment, was what a shame it would have been for us to keep waiting for that 'perfect spring' to embark on our maple syruping - the perfect time to bring the tradition back to life. Who knows when and if, it ever would have come. Instead, Rob thought outside of the box....or bush...just went for it....and the results were sweet!

He's started a new tradition, our tradition, and who knows where we'll be sugaring off next year!

mushing in the Yukon

When I was invited to go dog sledding last fall, my answer was a resounding YES! Besides one afternoon of sledding north of Toronto, I was a complete mushing rookie, but that didn’t cross my mind at all as I nodded my head and agreed to a month of dog sledding adventure in Canada’s far North, The Yukon.

It wasn’t until I was explaining the trip to someone else that the thought crossed my mind: I had never been dog sledding before. Details! Details! Besides, how hard could it be standing on the sled and yelling ‘MUSH’ ‘GEE’ ‘HAW’ (that’s ‘go’ ‘right’ and ‘left’ in dog sledding lingo!)?

The same people were concerned for my diabetic well-being at sub-zero temperatures. Would the pump freeze? Would the insulin freeze? Would my glucometer freeze? Would I freeze. My response was . . . “maybe! But I hope not!” Having never been to the far north in winter, I honestly had no idea what to expect. Okay, that’s a lie. I expected it to be dang cold. But didn’t really know what it would feel like, or exactly how all of my diabetes technology would stand up.

Undoubtedly, the upcoming adventure would be a challenge in many respects. But what’s an ‘adventure’ if there is no ‘challenge’? Besides, there was no turning back now, the ticket was booked - I was going dog sledding in the Yukon!

So I quickly got to work preparing myself the best way I know how – I GOOGLED IT! -“dog sledding diabetes”. And to my surprise, found a Type 1 diabetic Iditarod Musher by the name of Bruce Linton. I contacted him and sent a few emails back and forth with regards to what I should be thinking about before heading out on the winter trail. I had been put in touch with another diabetic musher from Golden, BC and got in touch with him too. When it came to cold weather and diabetes, I thought mountaineer Sebastien Sasseville might know a thing or two, so I fired an email off to him for good measure. This, combined with personal experience winter camping in Ontario and simple common sense, brought me to the following conclusions:

• Insulin will freeze at -40 – keep it warm, but not too warm.
  
• Infusion set tubing will freeze at -40. And the pump reservoir too.!
  
• Glucometers won’t work at sub-zero temps when the batteries get too cold. And if they do, don’t trust them.
  
• Keep hydrated. You’re less likely to drink in cold weather. Dehydration results in lower blood volume and therefore a higher concentration of blood sugar.
  
• Cold fingers are hard to milk for blood


• Just being in the cold burns more energy and therefore glucose – watch for lows.

Armed with this knowledge, I headed north! Before I knew it, I had my own team of dogs and was flying through the forest, the subtle ‘swish’ of the sled runners and muffled padding of dog paws on snow the only sounds. Each day brought new sights and adventures, mountains and valleys, forests and lakes. The beauty of the Yukon in winter- dramatic landscapes, big skies and the vastness of it all were breathtaking.

I was exposed to a whole new sport, way of travel, culture and of course the dogs!

Travelling and camping on the trail with 30 plus dogs was an experience in itself. When I am normally on the trail, human needs are first on the agenda – water, food and shelter. But when dog sledding, the dogs are feed, watered and bedded down before human care or consideration comes into play. And boy do they deserve it!

I was constantly amazed at the dog’s energy, drive and stamina as they pulled the sled (and me) over mountain passes, down deep valleys and across icy lakes. The dogs really do just live to run – ears up, tongues flapping, feet flying and glimmers of excitement in their eyes. They LOVE IT. However, contrary to my pre-mushing belief, it is not a free ride for the human team member. You are PART of the team and are often off the sled pushing up hills, holding back the weight of the sled down hills, throwing your weight around tight corners and jumping from runner to runner to maintain balance and keep the sled upright...or at least that’s the goal.

As the musher you are also in charge of keeping all your dogs happy, in their harnesses and attached to the main line. It sounds relatively easy. But I quickly got to know each dog’s personality, character and idiosyncrasies. Gravy always had to run on the right, Springer wore 4 booties and had a tendency to chew his neck line, Hawk got ticked off when Saucy ran too close to his side and Sugar liked to be the last one harnessed and put on the line. If these demands weren’t met ....well, all hell would break loose, harnesses would get chewed and fights would break out amongst furry friends. Best to keep the team happy!

And yep! It was cold alright. The icy bite of the air on some days turned my cheeks more pink with every passing mile, even under two face warmers and ski goggles!

On one particularly long mush across Lake Laberge, my hands became so cold that they turned into clutched claws around the handlebar of my sled. Upon our arrival to the cabins that night, it was all I could do to release them. I was totally unable to tie my dogs or do ANYTHING that required dexterity – luckily, I had people to take my dogs and was able to get to the wood stove inside quickly. There, the real pain began as my hands started the process of thawing. I realized the seriousness of my situation as I writhed in discomfort from the burning, throbbing and tingling. Keeping your hands warm is SO CRITICAL. Without them, you are completely unable to care for yourself or your dog team . . . there was no way I would have been able to test my blood sugars with frozen hands. Luckily, I was wearing a CGMS sensor, but even still....I didn’t have the dexterity to even extract my pump from all my layers, let alone press the buttons. Once in the cabin, I used a burning throbbing finger to press the buttons on my pump....2.6mmol/L!!! Maybe that was part of my problem?

Aside from getting ‘claw hands’, being wacked in the head by a few snowy low hanging branches, dragging on my stomach behind my sled and team through a few snow banks, letting one dog loose (he came back), ripping my pants (but not my leg) on a chainsaw and going up to my knees in slushy water overflow on a lake crossing – I made it through the whole month relatively unscathed and with NO diabetes-related emergencies!

I ended up carrying my glucometers in a pouch around my waist, under all of my layers. They still needed battery re-warming on most days, but functioned nonetheless. At the lodge or homestead, my insulin was kept either in a propane fridge or root cellar. While on the trail I kept it in a cooler with a hot water bottle – a divider between the insulin and the bottle to ensure it didn’t get too hot. At night, I would take it into the trapper’s cabin or wall tent (heated with a wood stove). I kept myself hydrated – the only downfall being, I was up 2-3 times every night baring my bottom to -30 and -40 chills. There was no indoor plumbing, running water or showers of course!

My research and investigative pre-trip prep work paid off. I had not only survived a month of dog sledding and winter camping in Canada’s far north, but had an incredibly good time doing so, as well as relatively good blood sugar control throughout. Now, I am not saying it was easy, but it was completely possible and more than ‘doable’. In fact, I would do it again in a second and plan to!

To me, knowledge is freedom! The more we can learn about any adventure we are about to embark on, the better prepared we are to deal with challenges as they arise. The better prepared we are, the more freedom we have – especially when it comes to adventuring with diabetes.

To me, ‘Freedom’ is feeling confident that I will be able to manage, make changes and devise my OWN solutions to diabetes-related problems no matter where I am or what I am doing.
Of course gaining this confidence takes time. But the more research I do, people I talk to, problem situations I am in, and most importantly, experiences I have, the more empowered I feel to take on bigger and more remote challenges in the future. Personally, I know that I learn best through doing, so when it comes to seeking knowledge for freedom, I know what I have to do – get out there and talk to the people who have done it before and ultimately just go out there and DO IT!

MUSH!

On February 3rd, I am packing up my parka, mukluks, balaclava, ski goggles, wooliest long-johns, warmest mitts, thickest socks, crunchiest toque, cosiest sleeping bag and flying to the Yukon.

I am about to embark on my first dog sledding adventure.

They say there are stange things done in the midnight sun. . . and they might be right.

I have a feeling I am going to have to do a few 'strange things' to keep all of my insulin and diabetes supplies from freezing into a solid block while we're out on the trail.

But there is only one way to find out. MUSH!

Robert Service had this to say of the Arctic cold:

"Talk of your cold! Through the parka’s fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn’t see; It wasn’t much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee"

And maybe Chloe....we'll see!

Winter Slipstream 2009

There is one week left until Connected in Motion's very first event - Winter Slipstream 2009!

Around 25 young adults with Type 1 diabetes will be heading north to Haliburton for a weekend of cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, skating, high ropes and more. There will sessions and workshops which will allow people an opportunity to network, tell stories and celebrate accomplishments. Rounding it all out will be good hearty meals, good company and blazing fires!

It's not too late to sign up....
Head to http://www.connectedinmotion.ca/index.php?view=details&id=1%3Awinter-slipstream-2009&option=com_eventlist&Itemid=64

And fill out the registration forms!

See you in the Slipstream!

Celebrating WORLD DIABETES DAY

November 14th was World Diabetes Day!

Over 1000 monuments all over the world were lit in blue for the occasion.
Like the CN Tower! You can see pics of them all here at . . .
http://www.worlddiabetesday.org/activities/wdd-monument-challenge-2008

This was the first year that we, my family, has celebrated the occasion. We zipped to the top of the tower and had a delicious dinner in the rotating restaurant with an incredible view of Toronto.
Hoooray for diabetes and all the great things and people and opportunities it has brought into my life. Cheers!

Rant # 472 - Excuse me for not smoking

Smoking indoors in public places has been banned in many big cities across Canada. I think that's fantastic. I remember the day the bill was passed in the city where I was attending university. My housemates and I went out to the bar to celebrate, but the real celebration came when we returned home that night and didn't have to have a shower or throw all of our clothes directly into the laundry bin. They weren't saturated with smoke smell! We were still revelling the next day as we got in the shower and weren't overcome with the stench of stale smoke seeping out of our hair and pores. Granted, there were now new smells at the bar that were never detectable before the smoking ban...but that's another blog.

I'll get to the point. I think that smoking should be outlawed on city streets.

After being inspired at the marathon, I have been out pounding the pavement. Yeah, yeah, I am that impressionable- I have been running more than usual these past few weeks. And maybe that's the only reason I have noticed this....but there seems to be an awful lot of people hacking darts as they walk down the street.
This is likely a direct correlation of there being no other legal place to partake in such an act outside of the home. Or maybe this has always been the case. But it has come to my attention recently that my rights are being violated on public property.

It is absolutely disgusting to run through someones smoke cloud. In fact, if I can see a smoker up ahead, I will actually try to hold my breath for as long as possible while approaching and passing the offender.
I don't know whether it's the contents of the smoke, the fact that I'm breathing harder that I should be, the fact that it has been exhaled by stranger or the fact that I can visualize the tar getting really deep down in my hard working lungs that disgusts me the most.
What I do know is that it makes me choke. And while it's probably not necessary to cough and gag as loud or for as long as I do. I feel that enhacing the natural reaction provides an opportunity for me to express my feelings to the polluter in a subtle, non-verbal way.

Call it immature, call it whatever you want...I don't think that I should have to suck back other people's disgusting habit when I am out trying to do something good for my body.

And that's that.

DESA Article

The Diabetes Exercise
Sport Association (DESA)
published an article that I
wrote in their Summer 2008
newsletter, The Challenge.

Check out the article (pictured here) at
http://www.diabetes-exercise.org/pdf/DESANewsSum08.pdf

pages 8 and 9.

Speaking for Hope

Last month I was involved with the Diabetes Hope Foundation's annual Walk for Hope as the lead walker. Here is the speech that kicked off the walk. Please excuse the shaky home video footage!

A jog in the park

"Alright! Way to go pink shirt!"
"Good job number 1407"
"Looking strong red hat"
The guy across the road from us at the 16km mark was clearly a seasoned marathon supporter.
Our hands were sore from clapping and we'd only been there 15min. Mr. Marathon however was showing no signs of stopping- he had words of encouragement and cheers of support for everyone.
"It's a great day for a run" he called out.
And he was right. Standing down in the Don Valley along Rosedale Valley Road, the sunlight was streaming through the crimson, orange and yellow coloured trees casting dappled light on the backs of the marathoners as they passed by. The air was cool and crisp and the excitement tangible. It was enough to make me think, for a fleeting second, that I wished that I was running the marathon too.
Months ago, Meg had told me that she was going to run her first marathon...the Toronto Marathon...and that she was going to do it with Team Diabetes. Meaning, that she was going to fundraise money for diabetes research throughout her training.
My pancreas and I were touch and thrilled. Running a marathon is a huge undertaking, and to have someone want to run for my cause, for diabetes, for me....well, talk about bringing a tear to your eye.
Needless to say, when I caught sight of that bright Team Diabetes jersey striding confidently down the valley towards us, my eyes stared to well up and I could barely mask the warble in my voice as I screamed "YEAH MEG....wooooo hooooo......GO MEG....."

And then I really new, that I wished that I was running with her today.
As soon as she had passed, we took off towards the subway and raced down to Union station. We arrived at the corner just in time to see her pass by again - still looking as strong as ever.

"GO MEG! GO TEAM DIABETES! YEAAAAAAAHHHHH MEG!"

I was so proud and so happy for her. She had trained so hard for this and I knew it hadn't been easy. But it looked as though her hard work was paying off, she was rockin' today. She was making it look like a jog in the park.
We started the walk up University to secure our spot at the finish. It would be another few hours before we would see her again. In the meantime, we cheered, hollered and yelled from the sidewalk as runners trickled by. We saw the winner whiz by- on the home stretch as most people were reaching the halfway mark. I think I heard later that he had finished in 2 hours 29 minutes.
The time passed quickly and it wasn't long before we were standing at the finish line waiting with uncertainty. The clock read 3:53. I knew she wanted to finish in under 4 hours, but time was ticking. Was she okay? Was she still feeling strong? Where was she?! Would she make it?
We watched as other marathoners crossed the line - some elated, some obviously hurting, some running as if they had just started out on a Sunday jog, some holding hands, some with their children, some sprinting like their lives depended on it and others being helped by family and friends.
Then there was Meg, just steps from the finish line at 3 hours and 58 minutes. And still running!She had done it!

By the time we caught up with Meg, she was receiving a much deserved massage at the Team Diabetes tent. She was sore, but in great spirits and surrounded by her biggest fans - her mom, aunt, uncle, boyfriend, best friends, my mom and aunt, me and of course, my ever-thankful pancreas.

What's that pancreas? You think you're ready to run....a marathon you say? We'll lets not get ahead of ourselves, but maybe we could start thinking about a half.

Thanks Megs - you're an inspiration and a real Team Diabetes champion.

Winter Slipstream 2009

Connected in Motion's
1st annual Winter Slipstream
is a GO!!!!

I am excited to announce that on the weekend of
January 30th - February 1st 2009
a bunch of young adults with Type 1 diabetes will converge at
YMCA WANAKITA, an outdoor center situated on the shores of beautiful Koshlong Lake in the Haliburton Highlands.
With over 1000 acres of forest, 25km of trails and access to all the
equipment necessary to enjoy it, we'll don our long johns and woollies and head for the hills.

Mother nature permitting, we will cross-country ski, snowshoe, hike, skate on the lake, play broom ball, challenge ourselves on the high ropes course, toboggan down Cardiac Hill and build snow forts until the sun goes down.
Our goal is to spend as much time outside and active as possible.
Why? Because just like broccoli, it's good for you, and because it's so much fun to leave the city behind for a weekend and be a kid at camp again.

Of course there will be inside time too. A chance to sit down with a steaming mug of hot chocolate (it's okay, you'll need some sugar by then!) and warm yourself by the crackling fire.
Or to pull up a chair and share a delicious wholesome home cooked meal with a group of new friends. At the end of the day, there will be a warm cabin and bunk with your name on it where you can snuggle into a sleeping bag.

It won't all just be fun and games...
Okay, well most of it will. But there will also be some serious business that will need to be attended to.
Connected in Motion is committed to changing the face of diabetes programming for young adults across Canada and beyond and we need your help.

This weekend is about YOU.

Who are you? What's your story? What are your passions? What keeps you in motion?
Where have you taken your diabetes?
What motivates you to keep up with daily diabetes tasks?
Come prepared to divulge and discuss.

Remember, this is not a psychological or medical support group, leave the sob stories at the cabin door please. We all got diabetes, it was horrible for a while, in fact, sometimes it's horrible now, but we all live with it everyday. Can we move on now?

What we're looking to do is celebrate our strengths, accomplishments and successes.
By putting ourselves out there, we are hoping that people will be able to connect with others who do or want to be involved in similar things.
We, the people with diabetes, are our greatest resource. Let's put ourselves to use.

There are so many Type 1's out there doing incredible stuff. Now it's time to connect.
We think the best forum to get people talking is not in the confines of a stark hospital room,
but to get them active outside. If you agree, you should join us and help us make that a possibility for not only yourself, but for as many other Type 1's as possible.

Great! So you're coming! We can't wait to meet you!
Alongside your long johns, toque and mitts, don't forget to bring your positive attitude, accomplishments you'd like to celebrate and ideas for the future.

There will be lots of time to mingle, meet and chat with people that you can relate to.
Most importantly, there will be lots of time to GET ACTIVE and GET OUTSIDE.

Oh yeah, you don't need to be a professional snowshoe'er, All-Star cross-country skier, NHL hockey player, or Olympic broom ball player to come. Although it's great if you are!
The goal is to have fun, be active and maybe learn something new.
The only prerequisite is that you can make a darn good snowball.

Registration details are on the way...if you are interested, have any questions or know of anyone who you think would like to join us, we would LOVE to hear from you.
Please send Connected in Motion an email at
connectedinmotion@gmail.com

You can also join the Connected in Motion Facebook Group!!

Diabetic-Proof Seal

2:33am
Crap....I'm low.

2:34am.
Guess I didn't need that extra bolus just before bed to counter the effects of a late dinner - the insulin on board would have worked just fine, what was I thinking?
At least I didn't have to get up to go to the kitchen - I had a liquid shot of Dex 4 glucose right beside my alarm clock.
I reached for the tiny bottle and layed back down in bed.

Then I'm not sure what happened...sucked into that slowmo-low zone I guess.

2:37am
I still didn't have the plastic wrap off the cap yet!
With my full attention back on the bottle, I managed to find the weak part of the seal and peel back the covering. Phew. One step closer to glucose.

2:38am
I unscrew the little cap and put the bottle up to my mouth.

2:39am
I realize there is another safety seal preventing me from getting to that oh-so-needed glucose.
Crap.
At this point, I just start gnawing on the seal.
Then I remember that there is a fancy pull tab on it, but now it's wet and I can't get a good grip.
Now I'm getting frustrated.

2:40am
I press the 'light' button on my pump and the bottle is illuminated in a green glow.
Red would have been more fitting - this bottle was the devil.
By the light of the pump I see the words "Lift and Pull" printed on the safety seal...mocking me.
I AM lifting and pulling. With fingers, with teeth...everything.
The light goes out.

2:42am
Bottle in my mouth, gnawing like a rabid squirrel but not caring because I just want some freakin' glucose already....I decide the little devil is clearly 'Low-Diabetic-Proof'.

Just as I start drafting a letter to Dex 4 in my head about how inconsiderate it is to design packaging that people having lows are unable to access....the seal pops off and my efforts are finally rewarded.

On top of the World

What if this was your classroom?

Would you be more inclined to get up in the morning and go to school?
Would you be more inspired to learn?

Well, for a few days every year, some lucky central Albertan public school kids can say yes, this is their classroom. And I can tell you first hand that they are up before their teachers everyday and ready to take on concepts that would pass way over their heads in the confines of a concrete jungle.

I have been working in Alberta for the past few weeks at a private outdoor center, like I have for the past few springs and falls. Our center sees groups of mostly high schoolers for 3-days at a time. Programs vary, but the standard is a lake paddling day, an outdoor rock climbing day/mountain biking/hiking day and a river/whitewater canoeing day.

Last week however, we were invaded by little people. A big yellow school bus pulled up to the lake shore and twenty-one grade 5's and 6's bounced off.
I exchanged glances with fellow guides...
"Uh...did someone pack XS lifejackets and paddles?". These kidlets were TINY!
How were they ever going to complete our program?

Well, they showed us. Althought the smallest paddles stood taller than most of the kids, they managed to manouver just fine once in the water. Their wee legs dominated the mountain. We had chosen a hike that had great views for the entire duration, thinking, its not likely they'll make it to the top. But 4.5 hours later, there we were on the summit with 21 kidlets bouncing - on top of the world. We talked about how the ground we were standing on used to be ancient sea floor and proved it by showing them fossils. We discussed how heat and pressure created the lines, layers and patterns in the mountain sides and how glacial ice carved the valleys and created the rivers.

They LOVED it. They were interested, attentive, inquisitive and engaged.
Phew, we thought on returning back to the bus after 7 hours of hiking, we've finally worn them out.
WRONG. They still had enough energy to have a dance party on the 2 hour bus ride back to the center AND to play flashlight tag outside in the pitch dark until 11pm. THEN to get up in the morning and paddle down the river in voyageur canoes. Their energy and enthusiasm was limitless.

My preconceived notions of these kids abilities were blown to bits. Which made me realize- we are constantly, conciously and unconciously, putting limitations on others, especially kids.

Why do we do that?

Why not open the door of option and possibility and let kids run with it?
See what challenges they think are too large, which concepts too complex and which mountains too high.
Oh yeah, and guess who was at the front of the pack heading up the mountain - the two kids diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD).
The mountain was a classroom where they could dominate...and they knew it.
You could see it in their smiles as they stood on top of the world.

Walking for Hope

This sunday is the Diabetes Hope Foundation's 2nd annual Walk for Hope.
Over 500 people are expected to come out to raise money for the foundation's incredible programs.
The money raised will go towards providing scholarships for young adults with Type 1 heading away to post-secondary education as well as to their medical assistance program which helps families struggling under the financial burden of having a child with Type 1.
you can read more about this awesome organization at www.diabeteshopefoundation.com

I am excited to be a part of the event and for the opportunity to hopefully Connect in Motion with some incredible people.

I'll have the Pump on whole wheat...insulin on the side

I learned something the other night, completely by accident.
It all started after I ate this homemade veggie burger topped with homemade salsa, yogurt and sprouts on a whole wheat bun with wild rice salad on the side.
It all started when I flat lined.

Generally speaking in the medical world, 'flat lining' is never a good thing.

But when it comes to diabetes and charting blood sugars, a 'flat line' is the ultimate success.

Now I don't mean to brag, but check this out...

Okay, I did mean to brag. This is my REAL-Time (contant glucose monitor) graph from the 3-hour span over dinner time the other night. Not bad, eh?

Basically what this means is that a gazillion factors came together at just the right moment- prior blood sugar value, my day's activities, stress and hormones levels, timing and dosage of insulin delivery, type of food consumed, etc. A gosh-darn miracle right there in my dining room.

Most of the time, when you eat, there is a rise in blood sugar level. This is normal, predictable and often followed by a downturn, as insulin works to return blood glucose to it's original value in approximately 4 hours...in a perfect world that is. Here is my graph from the past 24-hours - see the spikes?

So the flat line was truely remarkable...which got me to thinking...
What the heck did I do?
I attribute a sizable part of the phenomenon to the meal that I ate. In retrospect, that meal was almost solely composed of medium to low GI foods. GI stands for Glycemic Index. Some smart people have rated foods by the way they impact blood sugar levels. High GI meaning they cause spikes in blood sugar, low GI meaning they produce a more controlled and slower rise and fall. The veggie burger made from quinoa and mushrooms, on the whole wheat bun, with wild rice, black bean and corn salad was a killer low GI combo - helping to keep my blood glucose stable over the three hour period during and after the meal.

With the sensor technology, I can watch my blood glucose change - as it happens. The data that I collect provides me with an opportunity to think critically about things that I do, the decisions that I make and the foods that I eat in terms of their impact on my blood sugar and ultimately my control of my diabetes.

Isn't diabetes education delicious?

Queen's Camp School

For one week of every year, Rob and I go back to Queen's- back into the PEC, the JDUC, the Ghetto- back to our old program and back to being "Physeddies". Since graduating, we have been leading annual 'Camp School' trips for the Phys Ed program. Camp school, or PHED 338 as it is officially known, is arguably the best course at Queen's.

One week of canoe tripping and outdoor experiential learning yeilds a half-credit and some of the most memorable events of most 'physeddies' university experience. Not to mention the aquisition of numerous life skills, promotion of physical activity, development of environmental awareness, introduction of new career paths and opportunity to push physical and emotional barriers. Throughout the course students are encouraged to step outside of their comfort zones, communicate, cooperate and coordinate with new people, work as a team, accomplish tasks necessary to provide food and shelter for the group and in doing so, really, truly learn something about themselves. They develop skills that can be immediately applied to their lives, which is more than can be said for many university courses.
This may sound slightly biased coming from someone who went through the program, took the course and now helps to teach the program...but really, it's true!
Seeing the impact that a week like that has on students just verifies the importance of outdoor education and experiential learning for me.

Northern Summer

Another lengthy blogging hiatus!
Summer is drawing to a close and with it, a string of guiding and paddling adventures.
This August found me paddling the Wind River in the northern Yukon. The beauty of the Peel River watershed was beyond my expectations.

While in Whitehorse prior to the trip, I was looking at a painting done by a local artist of the Ogilvie Mountains. The colours were vivid, too bright to be realistic and I thought it was a bit too surreal. The next day, as we began our drive up to Mayo (where we would fly into the river), I was caught offguard- the colours in the landscape really were there. It was as if the landscape had been painted by a giant watercolour brush - large swaths of yellows, oranges, purples, greens, browns and reds topped with stark grey mountains.
We hadn't even made it to the river...

The Wind River is a crystal clear vein of impossible turquoise blue water that flows through an expansive valley which is home to incredible wildlife and great hiking opportunities.

I suppose I was giving off such a vibe of love and respect for the river that I was given a few extra days to appreciate it's beauty. The float plane that was set to pick us up at the end of our trip couldn't make it in for two and a half days due to snow storms and blizzards in the mountains so we hunkered down on a gravel bar, started inventing new meals from foods in the bottom of the barrels, sat around the fire, ate lots of GORP and waited. Despite the beatuy of the scenery, the sounds of the planes engine was sweet music to our ears and people were happy to be 'rescued'. Luckily, I had heaps of extra insulin, pump supplies and Fruit Source bars to get me through!