My Happy Place

I went up to Sunday River with my family for the weekend.  I don't know if it's Maine, or the fact that in high school cell phones wouldn't work there, or just family, but Sunday River is my happy place.  And I'm not trying to steal their slogan, it just is.  I left right from work on Friday, and I was a little bit nervous about my drive.  The last time I made the drive, I was pretty tired.  But this time I looked good  (so I felt good) since I had my meeting with the Animas rep that morning (more on that soon).  I get there, text my friend so she knows I achieved my travel goals, and join the family who's already had a few drinks with dinner and dominoes, and since I'm the last one there, and the one with a tough week, we all head down to the bar.  It's not something that we've ever really done before, but we've got some great memories.  We learned about doo-yahs in Maine (I want to see if anyone out there knows what it is), and we held our faces from laughing to much, and we wondered how many people at the bar would be there when the chairs opened with us.  It was the perfect start to a weekend following a not so good week.

White Heat: my favorite

On Saturday, we woke up early to get the good runs in.  We started making our way through the fog and up and around to the groomed trails.   This included White Heat.  When I was nine, I started doing White Heat and it's partner, Shockwave.  At the time, they had a sign warning you of the dangers including severe injury or death from falling.  This sign was at a point of no return. I started crying and it took me 45 minutes to get down, for fear of falling.  As my mom says, "if you hadn't been able to read, you would've been fine."  I don't know if that's why, but every time I make it to the bottom of these, I get a huge surge of pride.  Well White Heat had been groomed and Shockwave had not.  My dad, uncle and cousin headed over there while the rest of headed down White Heat.  We got to the intersection and waited for them and I'm starting to feel low.  My mom carries my meter because she has a lot more pockets than I do.  She gets it out, and I'm expecting a number in the 60s.  Except that a 31 mg/dL stares me back in the face.  I get out my gluco-shot, which tasted so bad I thought I was going to throw it up.  And then my mom asked me the fateful question.  "Do you need to go in?"  I hate this question as it relates to diabetes.  I didn't feel that low, so I didn't feel like I needed to go in.  But the number staring me back told me otherwise.  So my mother and I headed inside while everyone else stayed skiing.  I got inside and waited  for my numbers to come up.  They did, but I wanted to stay a little longer, make sure I didn't start to drop again.  I didn't, but the tired feeling never left.  The rest of the day had decent numbers, though they were rising the rest of the day.  Whether it was the 31, or the fog & rain, I definitely felt tired the rest of the day.