9 Day Week?

More than a week (I think maybe 9 days?).  I don’t have a good explanation for this but I’m on my 3rd (yep, 3rd) pump since my Burlington Ride. 3 pumps in 9 days).  Apparently the second pump had an error code which is a language/microprocessor failure.  I really don’t know/understand what that means. but I asked a TON of questions and made a lot of jokes about how my pump is probably mispronouncing my name now too.*

*Note: I have had a good track record with Animas pumps.  3rd time’s the charm right?



I recently saw a photo of a Dexcom site in the forearm and on the back next to the shoulder blade.  I don’t know that there’s enough of me for room on my forearm and I don’t think I could do that Dexcom back thing on my own (even if I were a contortionist) but I am intrigued.  I’ve had two thigh Dexcoms that have been problematic.  I’m sure it’s because I have thighs of steel.  I know, funny.

I took part in a JDRF/NYFAC ride.  20 mile loop called, The Loop.  I did this same ride last year on a rental bike after training on Citibikes (our NYC Bike share program… those bikes are heavy!) and what a difference a year makes!  I rode with a few of my fellow JDRF Riders from Manhattan out to Howard Beach.  Last year didn’t involve riding on the boardwalk.  Nice!  Door-to-door it was 50 miles and I rode well.  Cycling cobwebs dusted off!  90 degrees and it was wonderful.  Last year, 20 miles felt daunting.  This year it seemed easy.   As disappointed (I down play this… I am much, much more than disappointed) I still feel about my Burlington performance, I need to remember the progress I really have made.

Below, I’m the person front right.  I love this photo because of the shadow.  Yes I was taking photos….


OR doing monkey impressions (I’ve laughed multiple times at this one).  Who’s a Barrel of Monkeys?:


This week concluded with a Friday evening snap decision to ride.  As I passed by familiar haunts overflowing with Happy Hour revelry, it occurred to me that my idea of “Happy Hour” is a bit different these days.  Yes, this is a cool pic and it did take 3 tries as I rode along (no one was around me and I was on the bike path, not the road, all safe).  Freedom Tower!  Bedazzled helmet.

We have an event called “Summer Streets” that was started a few years ago.  The first 3 Saturdays in August, Park Avenue is closed to cars from 72nd street down to the Brooklyn Bridge from 7am to 1pm.  There are activities along the route too.  This was the first year for Piñata Bike so I got going this Saturday, bright and early.  I had to snack a bit at the beginning as I usually start a ride an hour after reducing my basal rate for an hour.  Shot Bloks (made by Cliff) have been incredibly helpful.

There was a Water Slide (strange but true) and a Zip Line.

IMG_3220 I planned to ride further than I did.  The route got crowded and then it just got silly (by silly, I mean WAY too many people and little kids and parents not paying attention) to ride with speed BUT I made enough loops (23 miles) to checkout the scene and find some photo ops.


Wall at the Brooklyn Bridge


Hey Ladies!

I LOVE this.  Street Art and my bright bike.  A bunch of rainbow girls checking out Piñata!  Notice the graffiti above?  “Love is Baked Goods (and Gold Bond)”.  Ahhh NYC, you still  make me crooked smile. I put Piñata next to this Peace mural (note the Smurf) and started taking photos.  A bunch of people started taking photos too.  Silly.  An older lady started talking to me and I explained JDRF and the Ride program and how all the colored bracelets are the names of the donors from my ride.  She offered to take a photo for me so I could jump in.  I had low hopes as she didn’t seem like she knew what she was doing and never stopped talking.  Life lesson: Don’t judge.  She took this awesome photo.  Ab-So-Smurfly fantastic!  IMG_3239 Summer Streets before the crowds:



I have ideas right now.  Just ideas.  The importance of advocacy.  Make.  Create.  Love.  Do

That voice in my head that says over and over “Do good, feel good” is still right there, but there is a whisper, a little devilish, smirking voice that says, “fighters, fight”.  Change is in the air.

Wine, all the batteries and fire? No thanks. (I know, that’s not what it means)