On A Transformative Experience

As I sit here, I struggle to express my thoughts in prose. I worry that my ability to use the English language to express myself is a failure which infuriates me but also drives home the point about the relationships I made this past week. You see, there is stark contrast between my ability to use language to express myself and the level of comradery that is felt between those who live a shared experience with t1d. The barriers that language fails to overcome are conquered by a shared experience that has no bounds. What follows is my feeble attempt to express my feelings in writing when language cannot reasonably illustrate the human experience.

I feel like in your life, there are those collections of moments that will inevitably become transformative experiences. As far as I can tell, it is these experiences that define my life. They make life worth living and make it a truly unique experience. Their differences separate us in the same moment that they draw use in closer. Trying to explain how I feel to others after events like these often becomes an experience of exulansis in and of itself which frustrates me to no end. Sometimes you know during these experiences that they will have a lasting impact on you, but most often it doesn’t hit you until after the fact. I honestly think that I can count the number of truly transformative experiences that I have had on one hand. For me, these experiences tend to come with a myriad of emotions that I often can’t make sense of in my mind let alone put into words. Despite my best efforts, I end up leaving these experiences sad due to their eventual and inevitable ending, all the while fully believing in not crying because it is over but being happy because it happened (putting adages into practice is a life long struggle for me). These are things you think of when you lie down to sleep at night or are alone with yourself in your airplane seat on the way home while listening to one of those songs that lets you slide deep into thought. When the world bustles around you but you feel more alone because you are so wrapped up in your own thoughts, emotions and experiences. When you sit at home and are just so grateful for that experience and know that your life after will never be the same as your life before. There is nothing more special in life than knowing that you have been changed by others in the most magical of ways.

This past week I had the immense privilege of traveling down to Orlando (yes Orlando in July, no I did not melt) for the Children With Diabetes Friends For Life Conference. The week was a complete whirlwind of activities and adventures. From spending some time running around with a bunch of 7 year olds to running between rides at Animal Kingdom, I returned to Utah both physically and mentally exhausted in all of the best possible ways. I am still trying to debrief.

 Now, I am not saying that I am glad I have diabetes, but I will say that I am glad for all the people that type 1 has brought into my life. In truth, diabetes has given me more than I ever could have imagined. I have opportunity to share my experience with people all over the world and meet so many unique and beautiful individuals. I can’t ever know if I would be the same person without diabetes as I am with it, but I do know that I would not be the same person had I not met all of the wonderful people who make up the diabetes communities that I am a part of. It is a really strange thing to meet a group of people and immediately feel like you have known them forever. It is even stranger when you immediately feel comfortable showing them all of your flaws and somehow know that you won’t be judged for them. As a person who fears the feeling of monachopsis, being at ease among others you have barely just met is welcomed whole heartedly. I can attest with certainty that this past week was one of the truly transformative experiences of my lifetime and I would not give that up for the world (even if diabetes comes with it).

Nobody is perfect, especially not me.

I post a lot on social media about diabetes. I post pictures of my diabetic alert dog, my pump, the fundraisers I do, and countless other diabetes related things. Until now, however, I have never blogged about diabetes. I also realized that most, if not all of my social media posts about diabetes are overwhelmingly positive. As much as I like to advocate that people with diabetes can accomplish anything they set their mind to, I never meant to show my journey with diabetes with a rose-colored tint. Nobody is perfect, especially not me.

For the past 3 weeks I have been down in South America training and racing. For those that might not know, I am a professional skier and a type one diabetic. When I packed for this trip I did everything right. I brought enough diabetes supplies and low snacks to last me 3 months. I was ready; and until yesterday everything went according to plan. Sure, I had some lows and highs but my blood sugar was pretty much on point the whole trip. For 2 and a half weeks I was able to train productively without diabetes rearing it’s ugly head. On Monday, I ran time trials for a race that was going to happen on Tuesday, Chilean Nationals. I made finals and to say I was stoked would be an understatement. I waxed my skis and went to bed early. I had my CGM and pump on.

When I woke up in the morning I immediately knew my blood sugar was high. My pump site had fallen off. When I look at my CGM it has the dreaded “???”. When I tested my blood sugar it was over 400 mg/dl. After washing my hands and testing again with same result I headed down to breakfast. I was in 4 heats that day and was on the hill from 9:00 AM until 5:30 PM and had 3 pod failures. I guzzled water gave myself as much insulin as I though I could given that I didn’t have my diabetic alert dog, a reliable CGM sensor, and had plenty of exercise and adrenaline in the mix. There were moments when I skied well, but mostly, I did not ski anywhere near my potential. I was sluggish, not aggressive and made mistakes that were out of character. After weeks of training with great blood sugars, the one-day I needed them to be spot on, they were pretty darn poor. I would be remiss if I did not admit how upset I was, not only with my performance, but also with circumstances surrounding it. I wanted so badly for my teammates to understand how I was feeling, I wanted them to “get it”. As supportive as my teammates are (they are some of the most supportive kids you could imagine) they just can’t understand it all, the way someone who has lived it can.

After taking time to think about the long, emotionally, and physically draining day I had yesterday, I realized that the disparaging feeling I had about my type one diabetes and performance were not only totally normal, but that expressing these feelings does not make me weak.

To be honest, I was hesitant to write this post about the negative aspect of diabetes. I was reluctant to write about my struggles because I try so hard to be a positive force in the diabetes world, showing that diabetes does not have to hold you back from accomplishing your goals and that having type one is not an excuse for anything. Then I realized, that by not acknowledging the struggle, I am doing a disservice to anyone that might be feeling alone. We all struggle and that is more than OK.

I am a professional skier. I am a type one diabetic. I did everything I could to take diabetes out of the equation on race day and it didn’t matter. I will try again next time because it’s not about the blood sugar number; it is about what you do about it.

Nobody is perfect, especially not me, but I will continue to try.

The mountain called, I went.

I know I haven’t posted in a while. I promise you, it is not because I have “writer's block”. I have just been busy. Honestly there is a plethora of topics that I want to write about. I just don't know where to start. It really is an epic task. So my alpine racing season is officially over (today was the Loveland derby). Alpine wise, I didn’t preform my best, however this was definitely my best ski season yet, and I honestly feel like I am skiing better than I ever have before. I started doing Skicross and let me tell you, it was the best decision I have made thus far in my life (Yes, I am aware that is not saying all that much). I met so many incredible people this ski season and was able to shred with so many good friends. From Austria to Colorado and everywhere in between, this season has been one for the record books. I really wish I had taken more photos and videos (and blogged more) so that I could create my own edit but, alas, I was lazy and don’t have much video or photographic proof of this epic winter.

Since 7 is my favorite number here is a list of the 7 best parts of my ski season and a list of 7 thank you’s!

            Ski Season 2014 Highlights

      1.     Being privileged enough make the trek out to Colorado 3 times this year

      2.     Watching the World Cup openers in Solden in person

      3.     Spontanious dance parties at the start

      4.     Ski Cross NorAms at Sugarloaf

      5.     USCSA Nationals

      6.     USASA Nationals

      7.     Van ride trivia

            I could not have done it without you:

      1.     My Parents- I mean you made me… and pay for me…

      2.     My Roommates- Thanks for helping me pack, bringing me stuff I forget, pretending that you don't care when I am incredibly loud ridiculously early in the morning, and putting up with the mess that is me during ski season (and the entire year) and all the accouterments that of my mountain lifestyle.

      3.     My Teammates- Thanks for being the best teammates I ever could have imagined!

      4.     Each and every one of my ski friends- despite the fact that there are no friends on a powder day, skiing is not nearly enough fun alone!

      5.     My coaches- for putting up with all of my crap

      6.     The MacConnell division coaches for all of their incredible support this season!

      7.     My teachers- Thanks for bearing with me throughout all the missed classes.

      So the only video I have from ski season is below. Little girls, truth or dare, a crowded copper lodge and a swede. Need I say more? Sorry Anton! (you were a beautiful ballerina though!)

Bode.

So first of all lets pretend I didn't fail at writing more blog posts for my trip to Austria. Whoops. I decided earlier this morning that I would make a new years resolution to post more, then I realized that doing that was just another form of procrastination because I would start posting more in January. Well I am making a resolution to post more now. Take that procrastination. Ha. The topic of this post was going to be about racing this past weekend, but I was slow. Really slow. So luckily my bud Bode gave me something to write about. Now don't think that I didn't find Ted’s run incredibly impressive, but there is a soft spot in my heart for Mr. Miller.

Bode.

            Picture little 4’ 10” 75 lb me sitting on the floor of my parents bedroom in NY long before I had ever ski raced. I was a freshman in high school and pretty darn impressionable. I still remember sitting on the salmon pink wall to wall carpeting watching Bode’s face on 60 minutes flash across the archaic 32 inch boob tube nestled in the built-in shelving of my parent’s bed room. I was completely mystified by the man on the screen. The iconoclast in front of me was breaking all boundaries, kicking ass and taking names. Honestly that's when I knew I wanted to race. To me Mr. Miller was a true underdog defeating the odds. I spent the following days closing the sliding door to the homework room, off the kitchen, so that I could pretend I was a ski racer being interviewed on 60 minutes in peace. I kid you not. I had dreams about ski racing. I knew what I wanted. And I wanted it badly. I did countless hours of research on both Bode Miller and sport. By the time the Olympics started, that winter I knew more about the rules and athletes competing than many seasoned veteran fans. The obsession had begun.

            As time went on and I entered the sport many controversies about Bode and his lifestyle ensued. I never wavered. To this day I hold Bode in the highest regard. Not because of his lifestyle, but because of his grit and strength of mind. The only role model I have ever encountered who has had an even stronger affect on me is my father, and I can tell you, nobody will ever top his unwavering wonderful influence on me. So when I was driving back from Stratton yesterday, evening as my copilot and teammate refreshed the Beaver Creek results, I had a smile stretched from ear to ear. To say I was happy could not be a bigger understatement. So here’s to you Bode. A 30 second dance party in your honor. #bodeisback faster than ever.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gSwL-qhLZw