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Powered by Pumping...the New Zealand chapter

Paddling sans Glucometer

Yesterday, we went paddling at the Elora Gorge.
I made a rookie mistake...I forgot my glucometer.
'Forgetting my bits' as my mom likes to call it, rarely happens.
When it does however, I find that it is always a change in routine that causes the stuff up.

Normally my glucometer will be in one of four places:
1. Kitchen counter
2. Backpack
3. Purse
4. Night stand

Once those locations are exhausted...it's lost. And if I am not near those locations, well, things become a little more difficult.

When I am paddling, things are simplified substantially...there is only one option...the Waterproof box.

So, when I looked in the waterproof box as we got ready to hit the water and saw no gluc-o-meter it was clearly a function of a change in routine prior to the paddling excursion.
I racked my brains, the last test was that morning and I was....shoot...where was I?

Regardless, I was hours away from my gluc and planning to paddle all afternoon.

When in doubt, I let my sugars run high. Before we hit the water I turned down my basal rate on my pump, had a little snack of carb and figured that would probably buy me a few hours of whitewater paddling.
By the time I got back to my gluc that evening (which was right where I left it in Rob's basement!), my blood sugars were running a solid 17.8mmol/L. ("normal" is 4-7mmol/L)

Better high than low for a short while, but better to just remember the darn glucometer.

In the kitchen with dad

My dad is not the first person I would go to for advice in the kitchen. He is a man who puts cucumbers in pasta sauce and makes strawberry and yogurt omelettes. However, I have to hand it to him...his creations always turn out tasty, I have just learned not to ask what's in them.

I was talking to my dad one morning from Australia. I think he could tell that I was starting to anticipate coming home and the decisions and choices that would have to be made upon my return.
"Just think about it as if you are out collecting ingredients" he suggested.
"Ingredients?"
"Every experience you have down there is another ingredient for you to bring back"
"But what am I cooking?"
"You don't know yet"
"Well how can I go grocery shopping if I don't know what I am cooking?"
"Don't worry about what you're cooking. Once you lay all the ingredients out on the counter, something will come to you. You will see it laying out there in front of you, waiting to be turned into something delicious. Right now you're shopping- the more variety the better. Then come home and get cooking"

Now THAT was an analogy I could relate to- combining my experiences, adventures, education and passions as flavourful ingredients in my own unique recipe, and not being affraid to mix things that at first, may not seem to go together.

4 cups of outdoor adventures
2 cups New Zealand
1 cup Australia
3/4 cup cycling
2 cups canoeing
a pinch of diabetes...

Kind of reminds me of my Dad's famous Kraft Dinner....

2 Frozen Hot Dogs
1 box Kraft Dinner
1 small bag of Plain Chips
chucks of cheddar cheese
ketchup

Place the hot dogs in the bowl. Cover with steaming hot KD (made to the prefect consistancy determined by personal preference...for me, slightly runny). Crunch chips in your hands and sprinkle over the KD. Top with chuncks of cheddar and ketchup. Enjoy!

I believe the key to my dad's culinary success is that he is not affraid to mix unconventional ingredients and is never constrained by a recipe. In fact, that seems to be his approach both in and out of the kitchen.

What now?

It's all a little surreal, sitting in my kitchen, typing on the same keyboard which wrote my first blog, drinking tea from the same mug. Not much has changed. The neighbours built a new deck, we got a big new recycling bin, there is a giant big box store being built down the road and my cat is a little fatter, otherwise...same old.

Did we really truly just spend the past 4 months on the underside of the world? Did we really bike around the whole South Island of New Zealand? Were we really in Australia?
Maybe it's just the jet lag, but it feels like a dream.

Looking back at the photos helps, but I think the real significance of what we've just done has yet to sink in.

"What was the best part of the trip?" people have already asked "Where was your favourite place?" and of course the inevitable "So, what now?".

I am having a really hard time quantifying, picking bests and favourites. New Zealand/Australia, biking/caravanning, surfing/hiking - I don't think these things can really be compared.

The easy answer...I loved it all. Of course there would be things I would do differently, places I wouldn't go back to, things I had wished I had seen, but I think every part of the trip was important.

Regardless of whether I loved or hated it, the thing for me now is to discover the impact of my travels and interactions. How will what I have just done and who I have just met become a part of who I am and what I do and not just fade away between the pages of a photo album?