Somewhere on the East Coast...
It's 4 pm, and a PWD is preparing to go to the gym.But first comes the mental checklist:
-workout gear?( check)
Moderatly satisfied that she's covered every possible scenario,she heads out,first stopping at the fast food place for a salad. She checks her blood sugar(167),boluses for the salad, and waltzes into the gym,intent on a productive workout.All goes well,until she snags her tubing on the door to the locker room & yelps in pain as the infusion set rips itself out. Guess what-no backup set.She decides to keep an eye on it,& just keep the workout short.
First Stop,weights.That goes well,but the line on the Dexcom soon skyrockets.(stupid anaerobic activity) Ends at 238 mg/dl.
Takes a correction,via shot.Does 15 minutes of running.Feels like it's going nowhere, so ends early.Dexcom dips slightly.
Gets home,starving & proceeds to eat most of everything in the refridgerater,& invariably goes low anyway.
That's why I hate exercise,it makes me twice as hungry (no matter what I eat before,or during) ,sends my bg all over the map,and makes me ache all over. I don't go to the gym as often as I should,but I do get exercise around the house with housework,etc.(and walking to my classes 2x a week)I want to learn to swim this summer,that would be alot more fun the sweat-a-thon that the gym is.Exercise is too much work for very little reward.(or so it feels like)
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