This morning I went to the gym before work. 40 minute+ workout. Cross training (ish). Weights, planks of torture, rowing, kettle sillies and some dancing around because that’s how I talk while exercising (apparently). Jump around! I stopped at Starbucks as I walked home. My local Starbucks remains under construction. I keep going there, forgetting the closed sign on the door. I started to walk down the steps and OUCH!  It felt like something stabbed me in the butt. Not my butt really, but the part under your butt where your thigh starts.  I took 2 more steps down. OUCH!  Was I being bitten ON the crease of my butt?  What?  Nope.  Kept walking feeling too embarrassed to grab my own butt. At a traffic light I pulled on the fabric of my spandex pant leg and jumped around, smiling, knowing the expression “Ants in Your Pants” was appropriate to my movements.  Somehow that fixed the problem.  Weird. I kept walking.  Took a step off the curb and OUCH.  The biting was back but slightly moved.  I jumped around wanting to stick my hand down the butt of my pants but keenly aware that I would absolutely run into someone I knew.  I kept pulling on my pants and swiped my hand over the spot expecting to feel a straight-pin sticking out.  Nope.  Nothing.  Stabbing feeling stopped.  Weird.

I thought this might have been on my butt since I had 2 of these in my feet a few days earlier. they are called Sandspurs. Logically.

I thought this might have been on my butt since I had 2 of these in my feet a few days earlier. They are called Sandspurs, logically.

As soon as I walked in my front door, I pulled off my pants (careful not to disturb the Dexcom sensor on my thigh and my insulin pump site on my hip).  Looked inside my pants.  Nada.  Looked at the outside of my pants.  Nada.  Looked at the floor.  Nope, nada.  I took a step towards the shower.  OUCH!  I felt my butt.  Look what I found.

bg test strip

They are everywhere, people.  Everywhere.  I walked around (and worked-out) at least an hour with a BG test strip in the crease of my butt/thigh.  Well played diabetes…better than being in my sock…. again.

Why am I sharing this story?  An opportunity to chat about my butt?  Not really (ish).  I believe sometimes we just have to laugh at the absurd things that happen because of diabetes.  At the end of the day, here are your cards, play the hand you were dealt (I couldn’t come up with anything like that involving butts.  I went down a path of Sir-Mix-A-Lot and then a thing about the Kardashians but that got too strange).  I stripped and found a strip?  Nah.


Writing On The Wall?

The timing of this discovery, yet again, magic.

Believe in magic.

A moment where the writing really was on the wall!


Also if you get down on the ground surrounded by bags of garbage to take a photo, be glad you did not encounter rats.

Stop thinking about it.  No Whammies.  xo


Duck, Duck, Goose?



If you would like more information on Big Duck, check out Wikipedia.  If you would like more information on why I went crazy when I pedaled around a bend and saw Big Duck, click HERE.*

*Note: I went to architecture school and Big Duck was in my favorite class, Modern Architectural Design History.  When I say “in my class”, I mean it was a topic covered, not that Big Duck sat next to me and was in my study cram group.  The later would be 1000x better, however this still all seems special to me.

If you would like even more information on Robert Venturi’s use of the term, “Duck” in architecture (hey, learn something new), check This out.

Day total: 66 miles cycled.  Riding across Manhattan at 11pm in stinky bike gear (P.U.) and a “South Hampton” sweatshirt big enough to be a dress or a tent for 3 of me, pretty terrific too.





The Name Game

This *may* have me giggling like a 5 year old this morning (I also posted it on the NYC JDRF Rider’s Facebook Page and seeing all the bike names has me laughing way harder than anyone my age should be laughing over such silliness).

I’ve decided to stick with “Pinata Bike” for my bike though, since “Colonel Slick Wagon” kinda gives me the creeps.

bike name


My friend, Brian (I have quite a few Brian named friends) wrote this post about his recent first time ride experience in La Crosse.  I like his story for a multitude of reasons and thought you might too:

Brian’s JDRF Ride