“Eat right and get exercise and your diabetes will go away.” Excuse me while I go beat up the person that just said that. I’ve had doctors, “friends”, and diabetic magazines tell me this lie.
If you have the less complicated Type 2 diabetes, this advice might work for you. As a Type 1 diabetic, I’ve found exercise is my nemesis. It makes me fat and has attempted murder.
I would like to become a runner. All my siblings made it to State Track, except for me. I feel running is in my blood. Here is the problem- when I run, I need to plan more than you did for your last 2 week family vacation, my bloodsugars fall, I have to eat more calories than I burned , and three hours later my bloodsugars are in the roof hovering in the 300’s or I crash into a sweaty hypoglycemia in the wee hours of the morning.
Example: I want to run after work. Set my temp basal to 70% an hour and a half before I get home, which is just as I run out the door from work, drive 30 minutes to pick up ReeRee, whip up a quick supper, and… ReeRee hurt her finger. Exercise is delayed another 30 minutes. Newt is home and he and ReeRee lay on the couch to watch me run (after all ReeRee has never seen the treadmill work before). I dust off the panel, take a blood test. WHAT! 108. I’m suppose to be higher than that. Eat 2 glucose tabs. Run/walk off and on for 30 minutes (burning 100 calories- whoopee). Post bloodtest- 85! Eat 3 more glucose tabs. Half an hour later- 55! Crap- 3 more glucose tabs. Bedtime- ahh 108. Two hours later- what! 45! Eat 3 more glucose tabs. Three hours later- eeerrr 55! More glucose. Two hours later- 90, so tired, going to sleep. Wake up at 55, eat 3 more glucose tabs.
Calories burned: 100.
Calories consumed from glucose tabs: 250.
And the joy of almost killing myself in the night- priceless.
So don’t judge diabetics. Exercise won’t cure them, it might even kill them.