Yesterday, I ran my long run along Tama River in preparation for a half-marathon this coming Saturday. In the middle of the run, I heard the approach of a large mass of running steps behind me. Without thinking, I started to step aside to let the runners pass. That involuntary reaction was honed from years of getting out of the way of fast runners.
As the plane taxied down the runway at 1:00 a.m. on the first day of my vacation a few weeks ago, I reached into my bag for my dark pink UltraMini. My husband, with a look of concern, asked why I was testing my blood glucose. I felt fine. I just wanted to know my body’s reaction to the stress of flight and time zone changes. My husband quietly asked me what I hoped to gain from that particular piece of information. Continue reading