I was going to write a post about glucose tabs today to represent the letter G. But I'm not going to deliver as promised. Because, another G has been on my mind of late and I wanted to write about it.

What, pray-tell, could deter me from the path of a post about chalky-lemony glucose tabs? Nothing terribly exciting - just the gym.

Over the past year, I have dedicated myself to getting back in shape. I have lost almost 40 pounds by adding aggressive workouts to my weekly schedule and making smarter food choices. More importantly, I have increased my energy levels, dropped a few clothing sizes, and in general, I am feeling much better. Each week, I dedicate 4 days to 1 hour of cardio (some combination of jogging on the treadmill, using the eliptical trainer or stair machine, and wheeling on the stationery bike). I also take a 1 hour yoga or pilates class one or two times per week. On top of that, I've found some free parking about a half mile from the office and I haven't taken the elevator to the third floor once since I started my new job in December. Recently, on a long weekend, I took the time to find a hotel with a workout center and I got up early to actually use those facilities. I think I'm becoming a truly "fit" person.

Most days at the gym, I feel great going in and amazing coming out. Those endorphins that athletes talk about that were so elusive to me before seem to have arrived. And for the most part, I get a high from my workouts. Amazing.

Oh, but there are days. Days when the very last thing I want to do is trudge to the gym. Days when I make every excuse in the book. For example, "I'm only 120 mg/dl and I'd have to eat something, thus eliminating any chance of burning extra calories... Why go?" or "Missing one day won't really matter in the grand scheme, will it?" or "I've already walked to work and used the stairs today, the gym? Who needs it?" On occasion, I'll let my excuses get the best of me and I'll head straight home. But, for the first time in my life, I feel guilty when I do that. I'm calling myself on my excuses, knowing full well they are just that.

As great as this all sounds - and it sounds pretty great as I'm typing it - the gym sometimes serves as a stark reminder that my body just doesn't work like the body of a person who doesn't have diabetes. I am reminded with each workout that I have to eat more to function well or time my disconnection from the pump absolutely perfectly in order to avoid a drastic crash in blood sugar. And I am ever-cognizant that if I test an hour in advance of the gym at 240 mg/dl, I have to live with that blood sugar, rather than correct, knowing that any correction so close to activity will find me plummeting and giving up on my work out before it really begins. It makes me a little angry, a little sad that my efforts at staying in shape are colored, are shadowed, by my diabetes life.

These sort of reminders make me walk the edge of a well of self-pity and depression. A well that diabetes has tunneled for me and that I find myself looking into now and again. A well that seems treacherously deep and dark. A well that I know I must avoid at all costs. I've fallen into it that well before and only been able to claw my way out with the help of professionals and the support of my family and friends - it is not a place I want to go again.

So I find myself once again walking a thin line. And that is, I believe, much of what living well with diabetes is about. Striking balances.

Finding the happy medium of diet, insulin, other meds, and exercise is only a very small piece of a well diabetes life. What matters even more is finding a way to do the right thing for our health while skating around the reminders that this life isn't your average life.

I hope I continue to find myself successful in doing just that. And I look forward to hearing about YOUR challenges - and how you manage them.

I hope you're not too disappointed with this "G." I, for one, think it came out rather well.