I am finally recovering from what was a VERY busy weekend. There was a 5k (my spotted sidekick and I took 2nd in my age division), a festival complete with booze, greasy food vendors, and awesome 90's rock, my family was in town, and every moment I wasn't playing, I was working. Add it all up and what do you get? A little pancreatic abuse.
The morning started out promising. I woke up in the 90s, ate a normal breakfast and downed a protein shake (17g protien, 20g carb, 3g fat) before the race. After the 5k I had to stick around the festival to work the booth, pimping out my dog daycare to the half interested passers by. I ate a granola bar (15g carb) and made it easily to lunch in the low 100s. After that, me and my family, who had come up for the Taste of Fort Collins festival, all jumped on our bikes for the 3 mile journey into old town. Half way there I felt my sugar dip and had to pop four glucotabs at a stop light. The lows meant I was free to indulge a little at the festival without much of a consequence (at least, that's what I told myself). And indulge I did. We made the long bike ride home after a few too many luke-warm festival beers (but who doesn't love flying down a dark bike path when your a little tipsy?). I was a low 77 before bed, and ate a small snack before crawling under the sheets.
I woke the next morning feeling a little anxious and looking a little flush. 42. And from the throbbing headache and puffy face, I guessed I had been low for most of the night. I ate a small snack while waiting for the others to get ready for breakfast. The low was biting at my mind the entire meal and I made the easy mistake of over indulging. My blood sugar peaked a few hours later at 203 and continued to seesaw throughout the day.
Apparently beer and exercise can be a little too much for failing pancreas to handle.