Snow? Black ice? Are you freaking kidding me? It’s practically July! What the heck is this?
On Monday evening, I drove through near white-out conditions on my way home along the flats and this was what greeted me upon my arrival at my moms before pilates:
On Tuesday evening, after a full day of cold, blue sunshine, the flurries were back, but not for long … or so I thought. This morning, on my way to work, I got not one but two phone calls from co-workers warning about the roads. I had no idea what they were talking about as the highway was perfectly fine where I was. And so I cut them short, told them I already knew there was an accident and that I had planned to get off at the exit before the reroute exit, and quickly hung up (I had some Pride and Prejudice to get back to after all). But when I got off the highway, it was as though I’d been jet-setted to Alaska! Gone were the clear, smooth roads and in their place, a thick sheet of black ice! Oh. My. Gawd. Did I mention I have summer tires? Because I live on the West Coast!
I went for a walk later in the morning and in 20 minutes I nearly slipped 5 times! This picture doesn’t look like much, but believe me, it was a death trap waiting to happen. If I wasn’t gonna die of pneumonia, I was going out with a broken neck … seriously, whatever happened to people throwing down salt? Oh wait, it’s February, it’s the West Coast, it shouldn’t be this freaking cold!
So, needless to say, I totally wimped out on the run tonight. But I did do a trainer ride AND my blood sugars were near perfect! Looks like I ridded myself of the insulin air bubbles … finally!
- 8 p.m. BG before: 11.1 (it had risen 6 mmol since dinner an hour prior)
- Temp basal: -60 per cent for an hour before and then I put it back up to the full dose
- Time: 55 minutes
- 9 p.m. BG after: 7.1
And the ride, it was meant to be really. Mario informed me, as I was pedaling away, that this weekend is the start of the Omloop Het Nieuwsblad cycling race; the first Belgian race of the season. And guess where it’s starting? Ghent. Where my cousins Filip and Griet and their daughter live. And guess where else it’s going through? Laarne. Where my cousins Martin (who’s a serious cycling race watcher) and Crystal live. And guess where else it’s going through? (I promise this is the last one) Lo Christi. Where my roots first began. Like I said, meant to be.
Do you run when it’s icy out?