I suspected I had Type II diabetes for at least a year before my "diagnosis" in 2010. I was overweight, had a lousy family history, and had had an ovarian cyst, which can be a development factor in women. On a Monday morning I had a blood test before I was to see a new doctor, and at noon she called and told me my sugar was too high and to test 3 times a day. I'm like, I didn't even know I was diabetic! Turns out she had confused me with my aunt, who was also a patient with the disease, and had a similar name and address. I have since left this doctor.
But no matter how I found out, I had it, and it was time to start fighting it. A year earlier I had started biking and walking regularly, and was enjoying doing road races for charity. So the first thing I asked the diabetes nurse was if could still do my half-marathon in June? Absolutely, she said. That first one wasn't easy: I basically made it a symbol of kicking diabetes in the butt. I didn't eat enough before the event, and that combined with a previous injury contributed to a painful fall. But I was so determined to finish that I hid my bloody elbow from the first responders so they wouldn't pull me off the course. But I proudly earned my medal.
I completed my 25th half-marathon in July, 2013. I've had no serious sugar problems during a race after that first one, and always carry a few granola bars just in case.
It has not always been easy. I have a group of running buddies, and after many long races they'll be chomping away at seven brownies each, and if overdo it or the beer, of course my blood sugar pays for it the next day. But I generally don't let it get me down. Exercise really does help. My family does worry that I'm overextending myself sometimes, but I am enjoying life and living it on my terms, despite having diabetes.
Rothschild, WI