I feel that this is a safe space, in that, after a massive spike in interest in this blog due to a Facebook announcement, my daily blog views is safely back down in the 0-4 range. Google Analytics has breathed a sigh of relief, and so will I once I get all this off my chest. Maybe one day I will reveal this blog to fellow PWDs and feel shame once again, but more than likely I will simply click "revert to draft" on this one and guard it safely forevermore. So, as follows, here is one of my guilty confessions. And no, Usher fans, there's no unexpected pregnancy involved.
I don't turn down my basal insulin when I work out. Seriously. Unless it's late in the afternoon and I haven't eaten since forever and I have a plan for something super cardio-intensive, I just don't. It's way more trouble than it's worth to deal with the aftermath of a basal insulin decrease, for one. But also I pretty much don't really need to. Despite my literal sweat, blood (yeah I've been known to pop a finger prick spot or two by accident) and tears (ya okay not really those) during my power yoga/boot camp/dog-walking, apparently my body is just like "Meh. You could go harder." In my head, I rationalize it with terms like "anaerobic exercise" and "breaking down stored fat" but I can't lie, my pride gets injured sometimes.
Phew!! That feels better I guess, and if you're out there somewhere in the same boat as me, then, well woo hoo! Let's just sit here comfortably in our insulin-filled boat, with our pumps ticking away peacefully and not judge each other.
I don't turn down my basal insulin when I work out. Seriously. Unless it's late in the afternoon and I haven't eaten since forever and I have a plan for something super cardio-intensive, I just don't. It's way more trouble than it's worth to deal with the aftermath of a basal insulin decrease, for one. But also I pretty much don't really need to. Despite my literal sweat, blood (yeah I've been known to pop a finger prick spot or two by accident) and tears (ya okay not really those) during my power yoga/boot camp/dog-walking, apparently my body is just like "Meh. You could go harder." In my head, I rationalize it with terms like "anaerobic exercise" and "breaking down stored fat" but I can't lie, my pride gets injured sometimes.
Phew!! That feels better I guess, and if you're out there somewhere in the same boat as me, then, well woo hoo! Let's just sit here comfortably in our insulin-filled boat, with our pumps ticking away peacefully and not judge each other.
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